𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐁𝐎𝐘

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴇʟᴇᴠᴇɴ

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Samwell Tarly huddled beneath the trees, half hidden behind the horses. His round fat face was the color of curdled milk. So far he had not staggered off to the woods to retch, but he had also refused to glance towards the dead bodies.
The flesh had all gone from them, their skin stretched tight over bones like sticks. Under the rags, their legs bent in ways that made Torsten sick. Their eyes were sunken deep into black pits, open, but they saw nothing.
Jaremy Rykker turned the dead body over with his foot, and the dead white face stared up at the overcast sky with blue, blue eyes. The boy lifted a hand to his chin. "They're Benjen's men." Torsten observed.

"Aye, Othor and Jafer Flowers, beyond a doubt." Jaremy Rykker said. Jafer's right wrist ended in the ruin of torn flesh and splintered bone left by Ghost's jaw. His right hand was floating in a jar of vinegar back in Maester Aemon's tower. His left hand, still at the end of his arm, was as black as his cloak.

"Gods have mercy." The Lord Commander muttered. He swung down from his garron, handing his reins to Jon. The horse was nervous, rolling her eyes, backing away from the dead men as far as her lead would allow. The dogs liked the place least of all. Ghost had left the party, the pack of hounds had been useless. When Bass, the kennelmaster, had tried to get them to take the scent from the severed hand, they had gone wild. Yowling and barking. "Ser Jaremy." The Old Bear called. "Ben Stark had six men with him when he rode from the Wall. Where's the others?" He asked.

"Not a clue, my Lord." Ser Jaremy shook his head. Plainly, Mormont was not pleased with that answer, nor was Torsten.

"Two of our brothers butchered almost within sight of the Wall. Yet no rangers heard anything, saw anything. Is this what the Night's Watch has fallen to? Do we even still sweep these woods?" Torsten's tone was harsh.

"Better watch that mouth of yours, Bastard!" Ser Alliser snapped.

"The boy has a point." The Lord Commander announced. "This man wears a hunting horn. Would he die without sounding it? Or have your rangers all gone deaf as well as blind?" Ser Alliser's face was taut with anger, while Ser Jaremy bristled.

"No horn was blown, my Lord. My rangers would have heard it. I do not have sufficient men to mount as many patrols as I would like... since Benjen was lost, we have stayed closer to the Wall than we want to, by your own command." Said Ser Jaremy. The Old Bear grunted.

"Yes. Well. Be that as it may." He made an impatient gesture. "Tell me how they died." Squatting beside the dead man Ser Jaremy had named Jafer Flowers, Torsten grasped his head by the scalp. The hair came out between his fingers, brittle as straw. The knight cursed above him and shoved at the face with the heel of his foot. Torsten frowned. A great gash in the side of the corpse's neck opened like a mouth, crusted with dried blood. Only a few ropes of ale tendon still attached the head to the neck.

"An axe did this." Torsten observed, pointing his index finger towards the pale tendon that still attached the head to the neck, with his other hand. "Could be one Othor carried, my Lord." Torsten said, squinting to look towards the Lord Commander.
Jon could feel his breakfast churning in the pits of his stomach, he pressed his lips together and made himself look at the second body. He was surprised how well Torsten was able to stomach the scene.

"The Wildlings have axes too." Ser Jaremy said.

"So you believe this is Mance Rayder's work? This close to the Wall?" Mormont rounded on him.

"Who else, my Lord?" Ser Jaremy asked. Torsten could have told him, he'd read multiple books on the matter. He knew, they all knew. Yet no man would say anything, though after all it was just a tale made to make children shiver.

"If Ben Stark had come under Wildling attack a half day's ride from Castle Black, he would have returned for more men, chasing the killer's through all seven hells and brought me back their heads." The Commander announced.

"Unless he was slain as well." Ser Jaremy thought aloud. The words hurt, even now. Torsten had been too stubborn to give to the fact, Benjen Stark was dead.

"Highly unlikely." Torsten laughed. "Benjen isn't stupid, unlike you." Jon smiled at the boy's words, thankful for him. While Ser Jaremy only frowned. "Look at the blood." Torsten pointed out, quickly changing the subject.

"Sam soils his smallclothes at the sight of it." Chett shouted out making the rangers laugh.

"You can see where Ghost tore off the man's hand, yet the stump hasn't bled." Torsten shook his head. "A fresh kill... the blood would still flow, my Lord. Later it would be clotted like a jelly, thick. The man's wrist is all crusty, dry like." His blood was black dust.

"If they'd been dead much longer than a day, they'd be ripe by now, boy. They don't even smell." Rykker said. The elder man wasn't convinced. Jon sidled closer to the corpses and took a whiff.

"Well, they're no pansy flowers, but there's no corpse stink." Jon said, eyes brushing over Torsten's own before landing on the Lord Commander's.

"They aren't rotting." Torsten pointed out. "Look, there's no maggots or worms, or anything. They've been lying here in the woods, but they haven't been chewed or eaten by animals. Only Ghost, they're untouched." Jon saw at once what Torsten meant.

"Ghost is different. The dogs and the horses won't go near them." Jon said softly. The rangers exchanged glances. They could see it was true, every man of them. Mormont frowned, glancing from the corpses to the dogs.

"Chett, bring the hounds closer." He instructed. Chett tried, cursing, tanking on the leashes, giving one animal a lick of his boot. Most of the dogs just whimpered and planted their feet.

"I don't know about Flowers, but I know Othor never had no blue eyes before." Ser Jaremy suddenly announced, bending down suspiciously at the bodies.

"No, neither did Flowers." Torsten recalled. The only thing he remembered about the man was his clouded grey eyes. A bastard had to learn to notice things, to read the truth that people hid behind their eyes.
A silence fell over the men.

"Get back to the Wall, the lot of you! There's still much work to be done before sunset." The Lord Commander announced. They wrapped the dead men in cloaks, but when Hake and Dywen tried to tie one onto a horse, the animal went mad, screaming and rearing, lashing out with its hooves.
In the end they were forced to hack off branches and fashion crude slings to carry the corpses back on foot. It was well past midday by the time they started back.

"Come on, Samwell." Torsten called out towards the boy who still sat shaking under the dead forested tree.

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