Inside the hall, all the members of the Night's Watch were drinking and eating, as were the five witchers, but there was a strange silence in the place. The reason for the silence was the two figures talking not far away.
Daenerys and Leaf.
The princess, who had an extraordinary appearance, naturally caught the attention of all the men present. And although some looked at her with hostility, most were still shocked by the beauty of the Targaryen princess.
However, it was Leaf who made silence prevail in the place. Which, honestly, was perfectly normal. She was a Child of the Forest, a race of mythological beings who fought against humanity thousands of years ago. Now, seeing legends come out of paper and appear before them in flesh and blood was an impactful fact.
If there was anyone who didn't care about Leaf, it was Cadmus and the Five Witchers; the wizard was quietly explaining what had happened in the previous weeks.
Geralt, who listened to everything in silence, couldn't help but think that the world really changes fast. In less than a month, the political, economic, and military scenario of the continent of Westeros would change drastically.
House Greyjoy would declare themselves kings, separating from the Seven Kingdoms, the Burning of Duskendale, the Peasant Revolt against the Faith of the Seven, the coming of dragons after almost two hundred years, and finally, the arrival of the Red Faith in Westeros.
Even with all the coldness and indifference accumulated over almost a century of life, Geralt had to admit that the Wizard's arrival really changed the entire continent. It was as if he were a chess player and the entire continent was his board.
Looking at Cadmus, who drank and laughed as if he were an ordinary person, Geralt would have thought that this boy was a young lord of some noble house. However, those who knew his identity knew that he was anything but a mere lord of some noble house.
"You've really been busy." Geralt said, looking at Cadmus and then at Daenerys.
"What can I say?" Cadmus asked with a smile on his lips; he knew what Geralt was talking about. "Having a generous boss is a very good thing."
Cadmus continued speaking in a cheerful, but somewhat presumptuous tone: "Not only do I have the largest castle on the continent, but my house will also become the new Lord Paramount of the Trident; I will even marry a princess."
Geralt couldn't help but be speechless. Just as Cadmus had said, having a generous boss was indeed a good thing. Taking a sip of beer, the witcher spoke with a slightly emotional tone. "You've achieved everything that many commoners and nobles dream of day and night, all in less than a month."
Clinking his beer glass with Geralt's, Cadmus said with a laugh. "Don't worry, my old friend, when I become Lord Paramount, I'll give you a farm so you can enjoy a peaceful life with some beautiful women."
Looking at Cadmus's expression, which practically said, praise me! Geralt couldn't help but think that the wizard was really childish, but the idea of spending his days on a farm wasn't entirely bad. After all, even being a modified human, the life of hunting, almost dying, and going back to hunting was really exhausting.
"Hey brat, don't try to steal my best witcher; I still want him to become the new Elder Witcher." Vesemir, who was listening to the conversation, couldn't help but speak at that moment. He, under no circumstances, could let Geralt retire! Who would take his place?
"Can a witcher's life be considered life?" Cadmus asked with a smile. Although it was cruel, a witcher's life was truly tragic. Not only were they despised, ridiculed, or attacked, but they were also infertile.
Living alone without being able to have descendants might not seem like much, but humans are social creatures; if you are not someone without emotions, you will still want to feel the warmth of another human being. You can go five, ten years without human contact, but loneliness is a terrible thing, especially for humans who have highly active brains.
Vesemir fell silent at Cadmus's words; just as the brat had said, he knew exactly how bad a witcher's life was. Looking at Geralt and the other witchers he raised as sons, the Elder Witcher sighed, but didn't continue speaking. The era of witchers was already passing; the lack of new witchers had already brought this entire branch of magic to the brink of extinction.
The Elder Witcher discovered that there were no more than forty witchers in the two continents of Westeros and Essos; this number was so low that it was desperate. Especially with the mortality rate in the Trial of the Grasses. Even with a heart as hard as steel, Vesemir could no longer bear to see so many children dying before him.
And they were not peaceful deaths, but torturous, painful, and agonizing deaths. Killing dozens of children to create just one witcher, the price was too high.
"We'll talk about this after we survive the Long Night." Geralt said in a calm tone. Although Cadmus's proposal was tempting, retiring at this moment was simply impossible, not when humanity's greatest threat was getting closer and closer.
Hearing his words, Cadmus didn't insist; he wanted to give old Geralt a good retirement; the witcher deserved it after living for so long saving the asses of ungrateful commoners and arrogant nobles who despised witchers.
"If you change your mind, tell me; one less soldier won't change the overall situation of the battle." Cadmus said in a calm tone. Although Geralt was an elite warrior, this was a war; if it wasn't someone like him, Daenerys, or Kinvara, a single person wouldn't change the course of the war.
Geralt nodded and drank his beer in silence, but the witcher's unfocused eyes indicated that he was thinking about something, or rather, about a beautiful and dangerous woman with purple eyes and black hair.
"Are you coming with me to Harrenhal?" Cadmus asked with a smile; he was inviting the five witchers to attend his wedding.
Besides Geralt, the other witchers shook their heads; they weren't friends with the wizard, and although such a big party was tempting, being under the eyes of hundreds of arrogant nobles was quite exhausting.
Cadmus nodded and didn't continue the subject; a person must learn to respect people's decisions. Since the witchers didn't want to, he wouldn't insist.
"By the way, a King Beyond the Wall has emerged." As soon as Vesemir said that, Jeor, the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, stopped the cup that was about to touch his lips and looked solemnly at the old witcher.
"Did he get the support of all the tribes?" Jeor asked in a serious tone.
"Yes, his name is Mance Rayder, a deserter from the Night's Watch." Vesemir said in a calm tone. In his eyes, betrayal was more than common, especially in an Order of Warriors like the Night's Watch. Although vows seemed sacred, people only had one life and usually valued that single life.
Even the craziest man Vesemir knew feared death when it came to reap that person's life, much less mere boys and men forced to join a celibate and rigid order. So, the Night's Watch having traitors was not really surprising.
Jeor's eyes grew cold; perhaps Vesemir found betrayal normal, but he, as the former lord of Bear Island and House Mormont, found betrayal anything but funny, especially coming from a former habit of his like Mance.
However, he was shocked that Mance had actually managed to gain the support of all the Wildling Tribes; this was no small feat, and with the conversation the night before with Cadmus, he understood that there were hundreds of thousands of people!
This was not a small army, especially when there were hundreds of thousands of wildlings! They were not thin commoners without fighting ability, but people who lived in the deadliest environment on the planet. Even children who survived the terrible cold were already hunters at ten years old.
Hundreds of thousands of trained soldiers was a terrible thing; if it wasn't for the Wall, even with all the power of the North, Jeor didn't have much confidence in fighting head-on.
Suddenly, Jeor realized that this was a chance for him to open the gates to allow the Wildlings in. If Lord Stark allowed it, the North would receive hundreds of thousands of people, which, in the vast territory of the North, could be accepted without any difficulty.
Although food, clothes, and houses were a problem, they were not as important as life itself.
Mance could very well be the bridge connecting the North to the Wildlings, resolving the blood feud of thousands of years. Although Jeor felt it would take a few decades or hundreds of years, he thought it was a good idea.
Seeing Jeor's thoughtful expression, Cadmus couldn't help but think that old people had some wisdom. Of course, this was relative; if all old people were wise, the world would have been at peace a long time ago.
However, with the help of Jeor and Eddard Stark, things could be facilitated, and the war between the Night's Watch and the Wildlings would not need to happen.
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Read my other books:
Game Of Thrones: The God-Emperor of Planetos (500,000 words written).
Percy Jackson: Godwyn the Golden.
Game Of Thrones: The King's Court Wizard