Chapter 9 - Craster's Keep
The next day everyone was ready for the journey. The cold wind blew down from the Wall, sharp and steady, reminding them where they stood. Their horses stamped the ground and sent small clouds of frost into the air.
The last known location of Mance Rayder and his host was somewhere near the Frostfangs. The journey would take many days, maybe more if the snow grew heavier.
Lord Commander Jeor Mormont and First Ranger Benjen Stark rode at the front. Manny followed behind them with ten sworn brothers of the Night's Watch. Their black cloaks made them blend into the shadows of the trees as they left Castle Black behind.
"We should reach Craster's Keep by the time the light dims," the Lord Commander said. "We will rest there for the night."
Benjen frowned at once. His voice dropped, but Manny could still hear him. "I have told you before, my lord. I do not like Craster. He is not a man to trust."
Mormont did not turn his head. "We need him all the same," he said. "He knows the movements of the wildlings better than anyone south of the Frostfangs. Set your dislike aside."
Benjen sighed but said nothing more.
Manny, riding behind them, already knew plenty about Craster. He had known about him from his previous life. Craster was a wildling who married his own daughters and then married the daughters born from those marriages. He gave his newborn sons to the White Walkers, who turned them into Walkers, not wights. Men of the Watch suspected something wrong about all his sons going missing but they did not know what it was.
They reached Craster's Keep near evening. The sky had turned a pale grey, and the air smelled of woodsmoke. Along the way they had passed empty villages of small wooden huts, cold fire pits, broken fences. Everyone in the company understood that the wildlings who once lived there had left to join Mance Rayder.
Craster stepped out of his hall when he saw them. His eyes were sharp and suspicious.
"Well, look at that," he said in a mocking voice. "The crows come flap-flapping back to my door. What do you want now?"
Jeor Mormont nodded in greeting, though his face showed little warmth. "Craster," he said. "We need news of Mance Rayder and his movements."
Craster snorted. "News? That costs more than your pretty words, Lord Crow. Bring wine. Bring steel. I give nothing for free."
One of the men muttered under his breath, but Manny could not hear what he said.
Craster stood aside and let them enter his smoky hall. The fire pit burned low in the middle. His daughter-wives sat along the walls with lowered heads.
Craster glared at the men and said, "Don't look at them. Don't speak to them. They're mine. You touch them, and I'll gut you where you stand."
Benjen stiffened. He looked as if he wished to turn and leave at once. Mormont's jaw tightened, but he kept his voice steady. "We have no interest in your women. Tell us what you know."
Craster leaned back on his chair. "Mance is gathering the clans," he said slowly. "He moves west of the Frostfangs now. Has half the Free Folk with him. Maybe more. They all fear what's coming out of the far North. Even the giants are marching."
Manny stepped forward. "Have you seen White Walkers near here?"
Craster's face twitched. "I seen things," he said. "Many things." Then he smirked. "But that's not your concern. My price stands."
Manny gave him two of his own weapons. Then he collected a few more from the other men, knives, a well-made spearhead, a short sword. Craster snatched them up with greedy hands.
Time passed slowly. The men of the Watch shifted uneasily as Craster spoke again and again in that same mocking tone.
"Crow-food, that's what you all are," he said once. "Useless old men in black feathers."
Benjen muttered, "I should never have come in here," and rubbed a hand over his face.
Even the Lord Commander was uncomfortable, though he hid it behind a stone expression. The rest of the men frowned. Craster's Keep went against everything they believed in, whether they followed the Old Gods or the New. But they all had to listen to the Lord Commander as they were bound by their oaths to him.
All except Manny.
He kept asking questions. He tried to gather as much information as possible. He asked about wildling movements, strange weather, ghost villages, and anything Craster might have seen. Craster answered each question slowly, mockingly, waiting for more payment.
After nearly two hours, Craster grew impatient again. He slammed his cup on the table. "I've given you all I will give," he said. "Where's my wine? Where's the rest of the steel? Crows always take and take."
Manny meanwhile thought for a few moments as he organised all the new information.
Then suddenly he asked. "Lord Commander," he said in a calm voice. "Your ancestral sword Longclaw looks mighty. May I hold it for a moment?"
Mormont blinked in surprise. He did not understand how his sword became the topic of discussion. "Longclaw? Why?"
"I have never held a Valyrian blade," Manny said. "If you would allow it."
Before the Lord Commander could reply, Craster's eyes had already fixed on the sword. "Now that's a prize."
Manny looked at him, "Do you want to hold it once?"
Craster agreed as he ordered. "Give it here, boy. Let me feel that blade."
Mormont frowned. "This sword is not a toy."
But Craster leaned forward, greedy and bold. "Bring it to me," he said. "If you know what's good for you."
Manny only smiled mildly. "Of course," he said. "I will bring it."
Benjen's eyes narrowed. Something felt wrong to him.
Manny stepped toward Craster with Longclaw in both hands. The pale steel reflected the firelight. The bear-head pommel glinted dark and cold.
Benjen stiffened. He looked from Manny to the Lord Commander. He said softly. "Something is wrong."
But before Mormont could speak, Manny was already standing before Craster.
Craster reached out for the sword, fingers stretched, hunger in his eyes.
In the same moment, Manny lifted Longclaw.
He swung once.
The blade moved clean and silent.
The hall fell quiet, except for the crackle of the fire.
The men stared in shock.
One of the girls screamed and covered her face as something rolled infront of her.
Manny lowered the sword.
Craster's body was frozen in place, still reaching. His head had fell away from his neck, rolling across the floor until it had struck the foot of one of his daughter-wives.
End of Chapter 9 - Craster's Keep