Operation Stumpy Re-Read
ADWD: Jon IV (Chapter 17)
I apologize, it's a battle strategy chapter. Tedious, and difficult to summarize.
"Careful of the rats, my lord." Dolorous Edd led Jon down the steps, a lantern in one hand. "They make an awful squeal if you step on them. My mother used to make a similar sound when I was a boy. She must have had some rat in her, now that I think of it. Brown hair, beady little eyes, liked cheese. Might be she had a tail too, I never looked to see."
<- Daenerys III
We all have a little rat in us. Especially Arya.
For anyone keeping score, that's the second time in a row a Daenerys chapter has ended, and the opening line on the next page is rats.
Dany could hear sounds within the walls, a faint scurrying and scrabbling that made her think of rats. Drogon heard them too. His head moved as he followed the sounds, and when they stopped he gave an angry scream. - Daenerys IV, ACOK
hehehe.
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All of Castle Black was connected underground by a maze of tunnels that the brothers called the wormways.
<- Daenerys III
Speaking of Arya. . .
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As they did their count, Jon peeled the glove off his left hand and touched the nearest haunch of venison. He could feel his fingers sticking, and when he pulled them back he lost a bit of skin. His fingertips were numb.
<- Daenerys III
"What is this?" Skahaz demanded. "A bloody glove âŠ"
"⊠means war," said the queen.
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"It was a long summer. The harvests were bountiful, the lords generous. We had enough laid by to see us through three years of winter. Four, with a bit of scrimping. Now, though, if we must go on feeding all these king's men and queen's men and wildlings ⊠Mole's Town alone has a thousand useless mouths, and still they come. Three more turned up yesterday at the gates, a dozen the day before. It cannot go on. Settling them on the Gift, that's well and good, but it is too late to plant crops. We'll be down to turnips and pease porridge before the year is out. After that we'll be drinking the blood of our own horses."
[...]
In winters past, food could be brought up the kingsroad from the south, but with the war ⊠it is still autumn, I know, but I would advise we go on winter rations nonetheless, if it please my lord."
The men will love that. "If we must. We'll cut each man's portion by a quarter." If my brothers are complaining of me now, what will they say when they're eating snow and acorn paste?
Update: pomegranate still unhappy.
Why is Stannis not travelling with his own food? I'm irritated by his entire existence.
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We could, thought Jon, if we had the gold, and someone willing to sell us food. Both of those were lacking. Our best hope may be the Eyrie. The Vale of Arryn was famously fertile and had gone untouched during the fighting. Jon wondered how Lady Catelyn's sister would feel about feeding Ned Stark's bastard. As a boy, he often felt as if the lady grudged him every bite.
Anyway,
Two storylines appear to be aligning in more ways than one.
"Post guardsmen on the docks. If need be, seize the ships. How does not matter, so long as no food leaves the Vale." - Alayne I, TWOW
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Devan was a skinny lad of some twelve years, brown of hair and eye. They found him frozen by the forge, hardly daring to move as Ghost sniffed him up and down. "He won't hurt you," Jon said, but the boy flinched at the sound of his voice, and that sudden motion made the direwolf bare his teeth. "No!" Jon said. "Ghost, leave him be. Away." The wolf slunk back to his ox bone, silence on four feet.
x
He followed the young squire back across the yard. Ghost padded after them until Jon said, "No. Stay!" Instead the direwolf ran off.
Lady would never.
Ghost appears to be a little agitated, and out of sync with Jon.
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Devan looked as pale as Ghost, his face damp with perspiration. "M-my lord. His Grace c-commands your presence." The boy was clad in Baratheon gold and black, with the flaming heart of a queen's man sewn above his own.
"You mean requests," said Dolorous Edd. "His Grace requests the presence of the lord commander. That's how I'd say it."
"Leave it be, Edd." Jon was in no mood for such squabbles.
I agree with Edd.
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In the King's Tower, Jon was stripped of his weapons and admitted to the royal presence.
I love when the author repeats inconsequential things.
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"Not me. I'm done with those bloody fools." Rattleshirt tapped the ruby on his wrist. "Ask your red witch, bastard."
Rattleshirt is not Rattleshirt, he's glamorized Mance Rayder.
We'll cover it in more detail later, but I should point out now that Mance frequently referring to Jon as 'bastard' is cited as evidence that he wrote the Pink Letter.
Your false king is dead, bastard. He and all his host were smashed in seven days of battle. I have his magic sword. Tell his red whore. - Jon XIII, ADWD
Small problem, that's exactly how Ramsay would provoke Jon.
His lordship was not a bastard anymore. Bolton, not Snow. The boy king on the Iron Throne had made Lord Ramsay legitimate, giving him the right to use his lord father's name. Calling him Snow reminded him of his bastardy and sent him into a black rage. - Reek I, ADWD
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Melisandre spoke softly in a strange tongue. The ruby at her throat throbbed slowly, and Jon saw that the smaller stone on Rattleshirt's wrist was brightening and darkening as well. "So long as he wears the gem he is bound to me, blood and soul," the red priestess said. "This man will serve you faithfully. The flames do not lie, Lord Snow."
Perhaps not, Jon thought, but you do.
Both their rubies glow red. Is that confirming Melisandre is a glamorized 92-year-old? Probably.
He thinks Melisandre lies?
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"I'll range for you, bastard," Rattleshirt declared. "I'll give you sage counsel or sing you pretty songs, as you prefer. I'll even fight for you. Just don't ask me to wear your cloak."
Clues!
He'll range or he'll sing, but don't ask him to wear a Night's Watch cloak. Mance.
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King Stannis said, "Lord Snow, tell me of Mors Umber."
The Night's Watch takes no part, Jon thought, but another voice within him said, Words are not swords.Â
Jon's committed to breaking every single vow until he leaves. Lol
I give him a hard time over assisting Stannis, but truthfully I'd be so much worse.
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The elder of the Greatjon's uncles. Crowfood, they call him. A crow once took him for dead and pecked out his eye. He caught the bird in his fist and bit its head off.Â
I'm choosing to believe this is about Bran and Bloodraven.
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Godry the Giantslayer guffawed. "I had forgotten that you northmen worship trees."
"What sort of god lets himself be pissed upon by dogs?" asked Farring's crony Clayton Suggs.
What sort of god trembles in the presence of sand?
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Jon chose to ignore them. "Your Grace, might I know if the Umbers have declared for you?"
"Half of them, and only if I meet this Crowfood's price," said Stannis, in an irritated tone. "He wants Mance Rayder's skull for a drinking cup, and he wants a pardon for his brother, who has ridden south to join Bolton. Whoresbane, he's called."
They've already killed someone disguised as Mance, so that's a pretty low price. Naturally Stannis is still annoyed.
We can only assume Mors (Crowfood) Umber wants a pardon for Hother (Whoresbane) Umber, because he knows Whoresbane is not actually loyal to House Bolton. Greatjon Umber remains a prisoner at the Twins, so House Umber has to play nice.
In case you forgot, Jaime has ordered all prisoners being held at the Twins to be delivered to King's Landing. Let's see if that happens.
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"Have other lords declared for Bolton too?"
The red priestess slid closer to the king. "I saw a town with wooden walls and wooden streets, filled with men. Banners flew above its walls: a moose, a battle-axe, three pine trees, longaxes crossed beneath a crown, a horse's head with fiery eyes."
"Hornwood, Cerwyn, Tallhart, Ryswell, and Dustin," supplied Ser Clayton Suggs. "Traitors, all. Lapdogs of the Lannisters."
"The Ryswells and Dustins are tied to House Bolton by marriage," Jon informed him. "These others have lost their lords in the fighting. I do not know who leads them now. Crowfood is no lapdog, though. Your Grace would do well to accept his terms."
She's seeing a vision of the northern houses gathered at Barrowton for Jeyne and Ramsay's wedding.
House Dustin grouped with House Ryswell. Not ideal if you're wanting Queen in the North Barbrey Dustin to flip.
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Stannis ground his teeth. "He informs me that Umber will not fight Umber, for any cause."
Jon was not surprised. "If it comes to swords, see where Hother's banner flies and put Mors on the other end of the line."
That's odd. I can't see House Umber being split in any battle, so this must be about House Karstark.
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The Giantslayer disagreed. "You would make His Grace look weak. I say, show our strength. Burn Last Hearth to the ground and ride to war with Crowfood's head mounted on a spear, as a lesson to the next lord who presumes to offer half his homage."
"A fine plan if what you want is every hand in the north raised against you. Half is more than none. The Umbers have no love for the Boltons. If Whoresbane has joined the Bastard, it can only be because the Lannisters hold the Greatjon captive."
Let me tell you, Stannis Baratheon is surrounded by the best people.
Jon figures out the Umber plot rather quickly.
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"That is his pretext, not his reason," declared Ser Godry. "If the nephew dies in chains, these uncles can claim his lands and lordship for themselves."
"The Greatjon has sons and daughters both. In the north the children of a man's body still come before his uncles, ser."
"Unless they die. Dead children come last everywhere."
They're discussing House Umber, but once again it's pointing to House Karstark.
Of course there's many other examples of uncles and aunts stealing birthrights. :)
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"I know all about your vows. Spare me your rectitude, Lord Snow, I have strength enough without you. I have a mind to march against the Dreadfort." When he saw the shock on Jon's face, he smiled. "Does that surprise you? Good. What surprises one Snow may yet surprise another. The Bastard of Bolton has gone south, taking Hother Umber with him. On that Mors Umber and Arnolf Karstark are agreed. That can only mean a strike at Moat Cailin, to open the way for his lord father to return to the north. The bastard must think I am too busy with the wildlings to trouble him. Well and good. The boy has shown me his throat. I mean to rip it out. Roose Bolton may regain the north, but when he does he will find that his castle, herds, and harvest all belong to me. If I take the Dreadfort unawaresâ"
"You won't," Jon blurted.
Lol, shut down.
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Where to begin? Jon moved to the map. Candles had been placed at its corners to keep the hide from rolling up. A finger of warm wax was puddling out across the Bay of Seals, slow as a glacier. "To reach the Dreadfort, Your Grace must travel down the kingsroad past the Last River, turn south by east and cross the Lonely Hills." He pointed. "Those are Umber lands, where they know every tree and every rock. The kingsroad runs along their western marches for a hundred leagues. Mors will cut your host to pieces unless you meet his terms and win him to your cause."
I don't know about you guys, but if I was trying to win back Winterfell, I'd want this guy calling the shots.
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"Siege towers can be raised if need be," Stannis said. "Trees can be felled for rams if rams are required. Arnolf Karstark writes that fewer than fifty men remain at the Dreadfort, half of them servants. A strong castle weakly held is weak."
In case you're unaware, Arnolf Karstark is feigning loyalty to Stannis.
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He means to plunder our armory, Jon realized. Food and clothing, land and castles, now weapons. He draws me in deeper every day. Words might not be swords, but swords were swords. "I could find three hundred spears," he said, reluctantly. "Helms as well, if you'll take them old and dinted and red with rust."
Enough, Jon.
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"Drinking from Mance Rayder's skull may give Mors Umber pleasure, but seeing wildlings cross his lands will not. The free folk have been raiding the Umbers since the Dawn of Days, crossing the Bay of Seals for gold and sheep and women. One of those carried off was Crowfood's daughter. Your Grace, leave the wildlings here. Taking them will only serve to turn my lord father's bannermen against you."
Who's the daughter?
He brings up a good point. Hard to envision the wildlings and House Umber / House Mormont fighting on the same team.
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"Horpe and Massey aspire to your father's seat. Massey wants the wildling princess too. He once served my brother Robert as squire and acquired his appetite for female flesh. Horpe will take Val to wife if I command it, but it is battle he lusts for. As a squire he dreamed of a white cloak, but Cersei Lannister spoke against him and Robert passed him over. Perhaps rightly. Ser Richard is too fond of killing. Which would you have as Lord of Winterfell, Snow? The smiler or the slayer?"
Theon or Ramsay?
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Jon said, "Winterfell belongs to my sister Sansa."
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"I have heard all I need to hear of Lady Lannister and her claim."Â
There's so many deaths to look forward to, and this guy is right up there.
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"You could bring the north to me. Your father's bannermen would rally to the son of Eddard Stark. Even Lord Too-Fat-to-Sit-a-Horse. White Harbor would give me a ready source of supply and a secure base to which I could retreat at need. It is not too late to amend your folly, Snow. Take a knee and swear that bastard sword to me, and rise as Jon Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North."
I desperately want to live in a world where Lord Too-Fat-to-Sit-a-Horse has Eddard Stark's son to rally behind.
Osha pls.
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Stannis looked disgusted. "Your father was a stubborn man as well. Honor, he called it. Well, honor has its costs, as Lord Eddard learned to his sorrow. If it gives you any solace, Horpe and Massey are doomed to disappointment. I am more inclined to bestow Winterfell upon Arnolf Karstark. A good northman."
"A northman." Better a Karstark than a Bolton or a Greyjoy, Jon told himself, but the thought gave him little solace. "The Karstarks abandoned my brother amongst his enemies."
Doesn't this guy pride himself on being the most honourable person in the world? (He's not.)
Again, full credit to Jon, if these were my options I would have abandoned the Night's Watch in a second.
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"Then you mean to go ahead with this attack?"
"Despite the counsel of the great Lord Snow? Aye. Horpe and Massey may be ambitious, but they are not wrong. I dare not sit idle whilst Roose Bolton's star waxes and mine wanes. I must strike and show the north that I am still a man to fear."
Isn't this guy supposed to be a great battle commander?
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"The merman of Manderly was not amongst those banners Lady Melisandre saw in her fires," Jon said. "If you had White Harbor and Lord Wyman's knights âŠ"
He won't, but you will.
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"Some of your own Sworn Brothers would have me believe that you are half a wildling yourself. Is it true?"
"To you they are only arrow fodder. I can make better use of them upon the Wall. Give them to me to do with as I will, and I'll show you where to find your victory ⊠and men as well."
[...]
"This had best not be some bastard's trick. Will I trade three hundred fighters for three thousand? Aye, I will. I am not an utter fool. If I leave the girl with you as well, do I have your word that you will keep our princess closely?"
She is not a princess. "As you wish, Your Grace."
Lying liar.
Update: the treadmill is no longer a princess. What a wild ride this will be.
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The clans have not seen a king since Torrhen Stark bent his knee. Your coming does them honor. Command them to fight for you, and they will look at one another and say, 'Who is this man? He is no king of mine.' "
"How many clans are you speaking of?"
"Two score, small and large. Flint, Wull, Norrey, Liddle ⊠win Old Flint and Big Bucket, the rest will follow."
Let's pray the clans are savvy enough to abandon Stannis before they all die.
If they do survive, safe to say they'll be Team Stark in the battle for Winterfell.
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"When the Young Dragon conquered Dorne, he used a goat track to bypass the Dornish watchtowers on the Boneway."
"I know that tale as well, but Daeron made too much of it in that vainglorious book of his. Ships won that war, not goat tracks. Oakenfist broke the Planky Town and swept halfway up the Greenblood whilst the main Dornish strength was engaged in the Prince's Pass." Stannis drummed his fingers on the map. "These mountain lords will not hinder my passage?"
Why does this feel like relevant information?
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That was the last thing Jon Snow would have wanted, but before he could object, the king said, "Where would you have me lead these stalwarts if not against the Dreadfort?"
Jon glanced down at the map. "Deepwood Motte." He tapped it with a finger. "If Bolton means to fight the ironmen, so must you. Deepwood is a motte-and-bailey castle in the midst of thick forest, easy to creep up on unawares. A wooden castle, defended by an earthen dike and a palisade of logs. The going will be slower through the mountains, admittedly, but up there your host can move unseen, to emerge almost at the gates of Deepwood."
Stannis rubbed his jaw. "When Balon Greyjoy rose the first time, I beat the ironmen at sea, where they are fiercest. On land, taken unawares ⊠aye. I have won a victory over the wildlings and their King-Beyond-the-Wall. If I can smash the ironmen as well, the north will know it has a king again."
And I will have a thousand wildlings, thought Jon, and no way to feed even half that number.
Someone wake up Asha Greyjoy.
To summarize this chapter, Stannis was prepared to march to his death until Jon stepped in and crafted his entire battle plan.
Why would anyone expect Stannis to be successful when he doesn't have Jon guiding him?
Final thoughts:
It will never be clear to me how Shireen burns when half the north separates Stannis and Shireen.
Obviously it happens, I just don't know how. Why does he retreat to the Wall instead of Deepwood Motte?
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