The return journey had not been easy. Time and again, they were spotted by free folk wandering through the Haunted Forest. Fortunately, most of them were merely strugglers, the remnants of clans that had long since been destroyed by Jorund and Sylas. Ivar deliberately steered clear of the larger clans that still inhabited the forest, taking wide detours to avoid their hunters. Fortunately, he had already mapped much of the area during their journey to the Wall. Now that they were retracing their route, he was familiar enough with the terrain to avoid most of the larger settlements. Even so, they repeatedly crossed paths with the scattered strugglers.
Some of those strugglers foolishly attacked Ivar and his companions, hoping to seize their supplies and livestock. None of them survived. Others were wiser, quickly realizing they had no chance against Ivar's group and wisely kept their distance. There were also those who saw a different opportunity altogether. Instead of fighting, they begged to join Ivar's band. Some even offered themselves to him and his companions, pleading for a chance to live alongside their children. Faced with their desperation, Ivar allowed them to follow if they wished and shared a small portion of their rations with them. If they managed to endure the journey and reach his settlement, then they would be accepted. If they perished along the way, however, there was nothing he could do for them. In this place, there was no place for the weak, only for those whose resolve was strong enough to keep themselves alive.
By the time they crossed the Antler River and neared Alfyn's settlement, forty strugglers were trailing behind them. Ivar could not help but feel surprised by their tenacity and determination to survive. He had expected that most of them would give up somewhere along the journey, yet not a single one had turned back. The thought made him chuckle inwardly. He felt like a shepherd, except he was not herding sheep but leading people toward his settlement. Shaking the thought from his mind, he turned his attention back to the path ahead and found himself thinking about Alfyn instead. He could only hope the man had not done anything foolish after trailing and spying on the large warband. Alfyn was still a valuable ally, and Ivar had no desire to see him dead. If Alfyn were to die, whatever remained of his clan would either scatter or choose a new leader, and Ivar had no way of knowing whether that leader would be willing to honor the alliance they had forged. If that happened, their agreement to one day strike against Jorund would become meaningless. Letting out a quiet sigh, Ivar stepped across a flat stone to avoid the narrow stream trickling beneath it before continuing over the frozen ground. All he could do now was hope that Alfyn had already returned to the Frostborne settlement by the time they arrived.
When the sun passed overhead, marking the beginning of the afternoon, Ivar finally caught sight of the Frostborne settlement in the distance and let out a quiet sigh of relief. Finding a large stone nearby, he sat down to wait for the rest of his companions. Throughout the journey, he had walked well ahead of the group, acting as their scout alongside his shadowcats. It also gave him an excuse to be alone with his thoughts. Ever since leaving the Wall, he had been carefully considering the Lord Commander's invitation to become an informant and how he should go about it. No matter how much he thought about it, however, he still could not come up with a way to keep it hidden from everyone. In the end, he decided he would first confide in those closest to him, hear their opinions, and try to persuade them if necessary. He knew it would not be easy. The bad blood between the Night's Watch and the free folk stretched back thousands of years, and convincing them to cooperate with the crows, even indirectly, would be no simple task.
For now, though, that problem could wait. His priority was returning everyone safely to the settlement. If all went well, he would have plenty of time afterward on how to go about it.
Hilde and the rest emerge from the rest not long after. And when Ivar saw them, he waved at them and gestured for them to walk faster. He couldn't wait to check if Alfyn had come back already or not.
When Hilde reached him, she could not help but complain. "What's the rush? We're almost there." She pointed toward the Frostborne settlement in the distance.
Ivar followed her finger before looking back at her. "I can't wait t' find out if Alfyn made it back. Can ye take the rest o' our people and the strugglers there? Set up camp on the northern side o' the Frostborne settlement. We'll rest there fer the night and continue our journey home on the morrow."
Hilde was just as curious to know whether Alfyn had returned safely instead of rushing to his death. She waved a dismissive hand at him.
"Aye. Ye don't have t' worry. I can handle things from here. Just tell me later whether Alfyn made it back or not."
Ivar smiled faintly and nodded. "Aye."
After giving a few more instructions, he set off ahead of the group while they paused briefly before continuing toward the settlement at a slower pace. It did not take him long to reach the entrance. As he passed through the gate, he nodded to the guards, who returned the gesture without stopping him. By now, they all knew who he was. Ivar could not help but chuckle inwardly. Alfyn had adopted more of his ideas than the man would ever care to admit. After all, it had been Ivar who first showed him the importance of surrounding a settlement with a defensive wall and assigning guards to watch the entrance. Or perhaps Alfyn simply couldn't be bothered to take the walls down of the settlement they had taken over. Whatever the reason, the fact that guards now stood watch at the entrance and kept track of everyone coming and going proved that he had managed to influence the blockhead of their ways, at least to some extent. The thought pleased him.
He returned the greetings of the people he passed before making his way toward the center of the settlement. There, he finally let out a quiet sigh of relief. Alfyn was alive, standing outside of the hut in the middle of the settlement and talking animatedly with one of his wives.
Seeing that they had finished talking, Ivar walked toward him and called out, "Oi!"
The moment Alfyn saw him, he laughed heartily. "Ye came back. I reckon ye accomplished that insane idea ye told me about?"
Ivar did not answer immediately. Instead, he stepped forward and gave the man a hug, which Alfyn returned without hesitation. When they finally pulled apart, Ivar laughed as well. "Aye. Got even more than I hoped fer. Haha."
Alfyn looked behind Ivar, but seeing no one else with him, he frowned. "Where are the others?"
"Hilde should be settin' up our camp by now. We'll be restin' nearby fer the night, if that's alright."
"What are ye talkin' about?" Alfyn looked at him as though he had been personally offended. "O' course ye can set up camp nearby, but ye don't have t'. Stay here inside the walls with us instead."
Ivar shook his head. "I don't want t' trouble yer people. We can take care o' ourselves. Don't worry."
He paused for a moment before asking the question that had been on his mind the moment he saw Alfyn had return alive and hearty. "So? Did ye find where they came from and their hideout?"
A broad grin spread across Alfyn's face.
"What d' ye think?" he replied proudly. "O' course I did."
He turned toward his hut. "Come. We'll talk inside me tent."
With that, Alfyn walked inside, gesturing for Ivar to follow.
Without another word, Ivar stepped in after him.
Alfyn promptly shooed his many wives out of the hut, telling them to take a walk for a while. They obeyed, though not before throwing a few curses his way for chasing them out.
Ivar could only offer the women an apologetic smile as they filed past him. Once the last of them had left, he took a seat on one of the stools inside the hut.
Alfyn sat down as well and immediately began recounting everything that had happened. He had followed the large warband for two straight days. At first, he thought they were simply wandering through the Haunted Forest rather than returning to their settlement. Eventually, however, he finally caught sight of their destination. Even then, it had taken him another two days of hiding in the fringes and careful observation to determine whose settlement it actually was. To his disappointment, it did not belong to Jorund. It was Sylas's settlement instead. He left then after together with his men and had been for three days now.
Alfyn then picked up a stick lying nearby and began drawing a rough map in the snow-covered ground inside the hut. He explained that the settlement lay at the foot of the Frostfangs, southwest from the Fist of the First Men, and that it was heavily populated with different clans merged as one.
Ivar studied the crude map on the ground in silence as he pondered the information Alfyn had gathered.
The information was valuable. At the very least, he now knew where one of the two so-called Magnars had settled and could avoid that area for the time being. He could also pass this information to the crows to strengthen his position as an informant. The thought crossed his mind, but he quickly set it aside. He still needed to think carefully before sharing anything with the Night's Watch. If all he received in return was a few livestock and some grain, the exchange might not be worthwhile. He had already acquired nearly everything he needed from them except weapons. Even so, there was no such thing as too much food at this side of the Wall. After pondering the matter for a long moment, he finally looked up at Alfyn.
"I honestly thought ye wouldn't make it back after followin' that warband. Knowin' how rash ye are, if it'd turned out t' be Jorund's settlement, I'd wager ye would've charged straight at hundreds o' his warriors with nothin' but yer pitiful little companions."
"What are ye talkin' about?" Alfyn scoffed. "I was only tryin' t' find out whose warband it was and where they were headed. Ye know we've been searchin' fer Jorund's settlement fer moons without any luck. We didn't find his, but we did find Sylas's instead."
With that, Alfyn raised his mug and took a long gulp of his mead before setting it back down.
"I'm plannin' on expandin' me search farther south o' here after a moon. What about ye? Did ye find any traces o' him down there?"
Ivar shook his head. "Nay. All I found were some strugglers and a few intact clans that haven't been attacked yet. I haven't really roamed the Haunted Forest lookin' fer him either. I mostly traveled in a straight line south, so I haven't seen much o' that part o' the forest."
Alfyn sighed and took another drink from his mug. "I'll try searchin' the southeast next time. If Sylas is in the southwest, then it makes sense fer Jorund t' be somewhere in the southeast."
Ivar chuckled softly at Alfyn's reasoning. As simple as it sounded, there was some logic behind it. "That's good thinkin'. Maybe ye're right."
He paused for a moment before continuing. "I'll start lookin' fer Jorund's settlement again after a moon as well. By then, the walls around my settlement should be finished and I can finally be at peace leavin' my people behind while I'm out lookin' fer Jorund."
Alfyn's expression immediately brightened. "Should we search together then? At least it'd make the searchin' a bit more excitin'."
Ivar considered the suggestion for a moment before shaking his head. "We should search separately at first. That'll give us a better chance o' findin' him. The Haunted Forest's too vast, and beyond it we've still got the Frostfangs, the Ice Rivers, and the Frozen Shore t' cover. It could take us moons t' search all that land."
Alfyn's enthusiasm faded slightly, but after thinking it over, he realized Ivar was right.
"Aye," he admitted with a nod. "Ye're right."
Their conversation gradually shifted to another topic. Alfyn became curious about how Ivar was managing to feed his steadily growing population. Ivar answered honestly, explaining that they had recently turned to fishing. It was enough to keep everyone fed, and, in fact, fish now made up more than half of their diet. He also shared that he intended to fish in the sea someday. The only things holding him back were figuring out how to build boats sturdy enough not to capsize and making fishing nets suitable for use in the open sea.
As Alfyn listened, his expression gradually turned envious.
"The Antler River's near us too, about a day and a half's walk from here," he said. "Think ye could teach me people how t' fish?"
Ivar nodded without hesitation. The more Alfyn owed him, the harder it would be for the man to refuse his little requests and commands when the time finally came to move against Jorund.
"Aye. Just send some o' yer folk t' my settlement. Me people'll teach 'em."
Alfyn's face immediately brightened. "Well, that's worth celebratin'!"
Laughing, he pushed his precious mead toward Ivar instead of keeping it for himself. Ivar accepted the offer readily, and the two spent the rest of the afternoon talking over mugs of mead until darkness slowly settled outside the hut.
When evening finally arrived, Ivar excused himself. Alfyn let him leave without protest and simply reminded him that he would visit their camp early the following morning to see everything they had brought back from the Wall.
Ivar agreed before stepping outside.
Only after he had left did Alfyn's wives finally return to the warmth and comfort of the hut, grumbling under their breath about having been chased out for so long.
The next morning, before the sun had fully risen above the horizon, Ivar, his companions, and their followers prepared to continue their journey. Before leaving, however, Ivar left two hens with Alfyn. The clan leader had insisted on trading for them, and Ivar had only agreed on the condition that Alfyn exchange one weapon in return. Though visibly reluctant to part with it, Alfyn eventually handed over one of his reserve axes in exchange for the precious hens. To him, the trade was worth it. If fortune smiled upon him, the hens would lay eggs every day. If not, they would still provide eggs every few days, making them far more valuable than their meat.
Ivar felt considerably more at ease now that they had crossed the Antler River and passed Alfyn's settlement. There were no clans living between their two settlements, as the entire area had already been thoroughly explored and confirmed to be uninhabited. Even so, he remained at the head of the procession as their vanguard, keeping watch for any unexpected danger. The rest of the journey passed without incident, and after two more nights of travel since leaving Alfyn's settlement, they finally arrived back at their own settlement.
The first thing Ivar noticed was the wooden wall beginning to take shape around part of the settlement. A satisfied smile spread across his face at the sight. It seemed Freya and Ylva had followed his instructions to the letter while he was away. Seeing the progress they had made filled him with confidence. When the time came for him to spend months scouting the south in search of Jorund and mapping the Haunted Forest, he knew he could leave the settlement in their hands without worry.
Once the people inside the settlement noticed their return, the entire place erupted into excitement. Voices rose from every direction as men, women, and children abandoned their work to gather near the entrance. Their attention immediately fell upon the goats and hens being led through the gate. Conversations broke out all at once as everyone wondered where Ivar and his companions had managed to acquire such valuable livestock. Some of the children, old enough to understand what the animals meant, began cheering excitedly. To them, the goats and hens meant more food.
The commotion quickly drew Freya, Ylva and their children from the center of the settlement. The moment they caught sight of the livestock, both women stopped in their tracks before breaking into wide smiles. Their eyes swept over the procession, silently counting faces one after another. Only after confirming that every member of Ivar's party had returned safely did the worry they had been carrying finally disappear. The relief on their faces was unmistakable.
"You actually did it, I didn't know that a single crow was worth this much?" Freya said, unable to hide the amazement in her voice as she eyed the goats and hens.
"And no one's missin'," Ylva added as she continued counting one last time before letting out a relieved breath. "Not a single one."
The hunters Ivar had taken with him all came from their clan. Their mothers had long been close to both Freya and Ylva and had willingly become their subordinates, helping with cooking, gathering, and the many daily tasks around the settlement. Because of that, Freya and Ylva had watched those children grow up almost as if they were their own. Boroq and Maera were among them. It was only natural that they were worrying whether every one of them would return safely.
Ivar smiled faintly. "Aye. We got lucky and managed t' bargain fer all this."
He then glanced at the people gathered around them before addressing Freya and Ylva.
"We also brought some strugglers with us. Have some o' our people help 'em build a camp in the distance. We don't have enough huts inside the settlement fer them yet and they're still not familiar with our rules. I don't want them to defecate anywhere inside the settlement."
Freya let out a sigh the moment she heard that. The excitement she had felt over the livestock faded almost instantly.
"Torren brought back strugglers just yesterday," she muttered, shaking her head. "And now ye've brought even more."
Ylva crossed her arms and looked around at the bustling settlement.
"We've already got more people than we ever did when yer father was still alive," she said. "Truth be told, we've stopped bein' just a band a long time ago. We're livin' like a proper clan now." She turned her gaze back to Ivar. "I think it's about time ye started thinkin' of a name fer us before other people start callin' us somethin' we don't like."
Ivar found himself agreeing with her.
Ever since their people had split between those who chose to follow him and those who had remained at the Hollow, he had continued thinking of his followers as nothing more than a band. Back then, he had refused their suggestion to become the chieftain because he had intended to travel south, and he knew he could not take everyone with him. Especially the responsibilities that came with it.
Now, however, his plans had changed. He had decided to remain here for several years, waiting for the civil war in the south to begin before moving again.
Looking at the expanding settlement, the growing wooden walls, the livestock they had acquired, and the ever-increasing number of people gathering under his banner, he could no longer deny the responsibilities upon his shoulders. It seemed he had unintentionally built a clan of his own despite not liking the idea previously.
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A/N: Please don't forget to rate and review the story after reading. And if you want to read ahead. You know where to look.