The King of Winters

Chapter 34

Sam and Edd had the logs crackling merrily by the time Chett led in Maester Aemon. The old man was clad in his bed robe, but around his throat was the chain collar of his order. A maester did not remove it even to sleep. "The chair beside the fire would be pleasant," he said when he felt the warmth on his face. When he was settled comfortably, Chett covered his legs with a fur and went to stand by the door. 

"I am sorry to have woken you, Maester," Edd said. 

"You did not wake me," Maester Aemon replied. "I find I need less sleep as I grow older, and I am grown very old. I often spend half the night with ghosts, remembering times fifty years past as if they were yesterday. The mystery of a midnight visitor is a welcome persion. So tell me, Tollet, why have you come calling at this strange hour?" 

"To ask that Samwell Tarly be taken from training and accepted as a brother of the Night's Watch." 

Sam looked at Edd eyes wide with surprise. He never knew why Edd had brought him to the Maester but he sure as hell never thought that he had brought him to get the approval of the maester. 

"This is no concern of Maester Aemon," Chett complained. 

"Our Lord Commander has given the training of recruits into the hands of Ser Alliser Thorne," the maester said gently. "Only he may say when a boy is ready to swear his vow, as you surely know. Why then come to me?" 

Sam had known that would be his answer. He had known that much and why wouldn't Maester Aemon know that. He thought that it was just a waste of time and was ready to get away from there but Edd was not ready to give up just yet. 

"The Lord Commander listens to you," Edd told him. "And the wounded and the sick of the Night's Watch are in your charge." 

"And is your friend Samwell wounded or sick?" the old Maester turned his head slowly to face Sam. How he did it without the sight, Sam never knew but the old man seemed to know his presence. "Are you wounded, Samwell?" 

"He will be," Edd spoke up for him, "unless you help."

Edd told them all about him, right from Ser Alliser's training to Rast's promises. Maester Aemon listened silently, blind eyes fixed on the fire, but Chett's face darkened with each word. "Without us to keep him safe, Sam will have no chance," Edd finished. "If Ser Alliser makes him fight, it's only a matter of time before he's hurt or killed." 

"The Wall is no place for the weak," Chett said looking at him, his face red with anger. "Let him train until he is ready, no matter how many years that takes. Ser Alliser shall make a man of him or kill him, as the gods will."

Sam grew afraid once again. It was not going in any way he had thought it to go. As time passed by he was losing hope more and more. But it seemed as if Edd has not given his hope. 

"That's stupid," he said. 

Sam took a deep breath to steady his breath. His heart was beating wildly in his chest now. He was so nervous that it made his palms sweaty.

"The Night's Watch needs all sorts of people. Why else have rangers and stewards and builders? Lord Randyll couldn't make Sam a warrior, and Ser Alliser won't either. You can't hammer tin into iron, no matter how hard you beat it, but that doesn't mean tin is useless. Why shouldn't Sam be a steward?" 

Chett gave an angry scowl. "I'm a steward. You think it's easy work, fit for cowards? The order of stewards keeps the Watch alive. We hunt and farm, tend the horses, milk the cows, gather firewood, cook the meals. Who do you think makes your clothing? Who brings up supplies from the south? The stewards." 

Maester Aemon was gentler. "Are you a hunter, Samwell?" 

Sam's lips quivered at the mention of hunting. He had never liked hunting, never wanted to hunt. "A disgrace to House Tarly. Not fit to wear even my arms." his lord father had always said. The striding huntsman was the arms of house Tarly and Sam hated hunting. "I hate hunting," he had to admit. 

"Can you plow a field?" the maester asked. "Can you drive a wagon or sail a ship? Could you butcher a cow?" 

Sam could do none of the things Maester Aemon said. He couldn't even lift a tool to plow a field, he couldn't even ride properly, he was even afraid to see a chicken die. "No." He said at last. 

Chett gave a nasty laugh. "I've seen what happens to soft lordlings when they're put to work. Set them to churning butter and their hands blister and bleed. Give them an axe to split logs, and they cut off their own foot." 

His hopes had gone shattered with it and he could feel tears clouding his eyes but Sam would not bring himself to weep infront of them. 

"I know one thing Sam could do better than anyone," Edd said at last. Sam looked at him eagerly waiting to hear what he did better than anyone. 

"Yes?" Maester Aemon prompted. 

Edd glanced warily at Chett, standing beside the door, his boils red and angry. "He could help you," he said quickly. "He can do sums, and he knows how to read and write. I know Chett can't read, and Clydas has weak eyes. Sam has read every book in his father's library. He'd be good with the ravens too. There's a lot he could do, besides fighting. The Night's Watch needs every man. Why kill one, to no end? Make use of him instead." 

Maester Aemon closed his eyes, and for a brief moment Sam was afraid that he had gone to sleep. He was his last hope. He knew he wouldn't survive without the help of his friends. Finally Maester Aemon said, "I shall think on what you have said. And now, I believe I am ready to sleep. Chett, show our young brothers to the door."

When they came out of the Maester's chambers, Sam turned to look at Edd. "I don't know why you did it," he told him, "but thank you. I've never had a friend before." 

Edd smiled at him. "We're not friends," he said. He put a hand on Sam's shoulder. "We're brothers."