Deepwood Motte.
Located to the northwest of the Wolfswood, it was one of the most important strongholds in the North.
To the north, it faced House Mormont of Bear Island across the sea.
To the east or south, one had to cross the entire Wolfswood to reach the nearest city.
Since House Glover swore fealty to House Stark, Deepwood Motte had borne the responsibility of guarding the northwestern defenses of the North and shielding Winterfell itself.
In the tv adaptation of the War of the Five Kings, before the Battle of the Bastards, Jon and Sansa traveled across the North to rally the banners.
The very first place they thought of was Deepwood Motte.
That alone spoke volumes about its unique status.
In fact, were it not for the threat of the Iron Islands, Deepwood Motte would have had a strong chance to develop into a port city for the northwestern North, linking the Riverlands and the Westerlands by sea.
This was another reason Galon focused so intently on the Iron Islands, beyond history and future events.
Only by pacifying the Iron Islands could merchant ships from the Riverlands sail north.
Only then could Galon attract trade by sea and, by monopolizing the resources of the Wolfswood, rapidly build wealth.
Otherwise, relying solely on overland routes, Deepwood Motte would struggle to grow, even by the time the Others invaded.
Of course, all of this existed only in Galon's plans for now.
How it would truly unfold would depend on him fully conquering the Iron Islands first.
At this moment, near dusk.
After leaving Winterfell, Galon and his party had been traveling through the Wolfswood without pause.
Unlike their hurried journey to Winterfell, however, the return trip to Deepwood Motte was taken at a steadier pace.
The three-day journey there became four days on the way back before they finally reached the borders under Deepwood Motte's control.
"Whoa."
Galon reined in his horse and scanned the trees ahead, noticing the markings carved into a sentry tree.
"Jon, we're almost there."
He pointed to the markings and explained, "Those are hunting signs left by the forest clans. This is their hunting ground."
"Go a bit farther and you'll see Deepwood Motte."
Jon looked exhausted. Hearing this, he let out a long breath. "So we can finally get a proper rest tonight."
It was no surprise he felt that way.
For three straight nights, they had slept in the Wolfswood, where wolf howls echoed endlessly after dark.
Worse still, Ghost (direwolf) seemed to take the howls as a challenge and joined in. Once he started, he would howl for hours without stopping.
More than once, they had even drawn the attention of wolf packs.
If not for Galon and Roger's deep familiarity with life in the Wolfswood, Jon knew that traveling alone would have left him little more than bones.
"Yes, just hold on a bit longer. We're almost there," Roger said with a smile.
Jon nodded tiredly.
Seeing this, Galon did not linger. He waved his hand and said, "Then let's keep moving."
The group mounted up again and rode on.
When the sky finally took on a bluish dusk, Deepwood Motte at last came into view.
At first glance, Jon felt it looked even larger than Winterfell. As they drew closer, that impression only grew stronger.
A massive wooden palisade blocked his view, preventing him from seeing the whole structure at once.
As their horses thundered forward, soldiers stationed in the bell tower of the outer keep spotted them.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
The bells rang out, and the eastern gate of the outer keep swung open.
Galon showed no surprise. Without slowing, he led his men straight through the gate and into the outer keep.
The moment Jon entered, he was stunned.
Calling it an outer keep hardly did it justice. It felt more like a town.
Within the wooden fences stood dense rows of wooden houses. At a glance, Jon noticed that many of them were workshops for butchering game.
Members of various clans moved about everywhere, busy and loud.
Through the jumble of buildings, a packed dirt road stretched upward toward the inner keep atop a hill.
Galon urged his horse forward, picking up speed as he headed straight for the inner keep. Jon knew that was the place Galon had grown up.
Soon, a fortress of mixed wood and stone came into view.
Galon rode ahead and was the first to reach the sole gate of the inner keep.
Someone was already waiting there.
"Uncle Robett!"
Galon laughed, pulled his horse to a halt, and leapt down, embracing the broad-armed man who stepped forward.
"Galon, you're finally back!" Robett said heartily, patting him on the back. "If you'd stayed away any longer, I was ready to go to Winterfell myself to look for you."
Galon released him and explained, "Some minor matters came up in Winterfell, so I was delayed a few days."
At that moment, a small figure popped out from behind Robett. It was his eldest son, Gavin Glover.
"Brother!"
Six-year-old Gavin had not seen Galon for over half a month. He clung to Galon's leg excitedly and shouted, "Was Winterfell fun?"
Galon smiled and ruffled his hair. "Yes, very fun. I'll take you there someday."
Gavin immediately cheered with delight.
Then another youth stepped forward. It was Galbart's adopted son, Lawrence Snow.
"Galon," Lawrence said with a grin, "I thought you'd been so enchanted by Lady Sansa that you didn't want to come back."
Galon laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. "How could that be? This is my home."
Thirteen-year-old Lawrence looked up at him happily. "Then welcome home, brother."
Galon nodded with a smile.
Robett stood aside, watching the exchange with quiet satisfaction.
Seeing them still chatting, he was about to suggest they continue inside when he suddenly noticed someone unfamiliar among the returning group.
Frowning slightly, he asked, "Galon, who is this?"
Galon came back to himself and introduced Jon. "Uncle Robett, this is Jon Snow. Ned arranged for him to serve as my attendant."
"Jon, this is my uncle, Robett Glover."
Jon stepped forward and bowed stiffly. "Lord Robett."
Robett froze for a moment, instantly recalling Ned Stark's bastard.
He looked at Galon, hesitated as if to speak, then decided to talk privately with Galon later about what had happened in Winterfell.
"This is my uncle's son, Gavin Glover," Galon continued, "and this is my father's adopted son, Lawrence Snow."
Jon greeted them both politely.
Gavin simply blinked, while Lawrence studied Jon with curiosity, quietly observing someone who shared the same status as himself.
"Uncle Robett, where's the steward?" Galon asked.
Robett pulled his gaze back and replied, "The steward is helping Sybelle prepare dinner, and Maester Beckman is still in the workshop."
When he mentioned the workshop, Robett glanced briefly at Jon and said no more.
Jon, sharp-eyed, immediately grew curious about this "workshop."
Galon understood and turned to the others. "Come, let's go inside and talk."
"Lawrence, go tell the steward to prepare a room for Jon near mine. He'll be living in Deepwood Motte from now on."
Lawrence nodded and headed inside at once to find the steward.
The rest of the group followed Robett toward the Thousand Beasts Hall.
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