Lancelot and his group spent the night in the Wolfswood. During the night, Lancelot heard the howling of wolves coming from the distance.
Hearing the howls, Hrakkar immediately let out a furious roar.
The low rumble of the lion's roar carried for eight miles, alarming many hunters in the Wolfswood—wolves, shadowcats, and eagles alike.
However, what Lancelot found slightly embarrassing was sleeping in the same tent as Melisandre that night.
He used a spear and a round shield to draw a "38th Parallel" between them, ensuring they wouldn't disturb each other.
Perhaps due to Melisandre's presence, Lancelot didn't feel cold at all; instead, a warm heat filled the tent.
Half-asleep, Lancelot heard Melisandre talking in her sleep.
"Lord of Light! R'hllor!"
"I am your servant!"
"I serve you with all my heart and soul!"
"My entire being belongs to you!"
In the end, Melisandre began to moan softly.
She writhed like an earthworm.
Suddenly, Lancelot felt her leg draped over him.
In response, he silently recited the Mantra of the Frozen Heart.
"The heart is clear as ice; even if the sky falls, I remain unmoved!"
Before sunrise, Melisandre fell asleep again. Lancelot quietly moved her leg back without waking her.
After sunrise, Hrakkar roared outside, alerting everyone that the sun was up.
People began emerging from their tents one after another.
Podrick set up the large iron pot he carried on his back over three stones. He had already gathered firewood, and then he looked at Lancelot.
"What? You want me to light the fire again? Podrick, without me, would you lose the will to live?" Lancelot asked.
"Isn't it just more convenient with your abilities, Ser?" Podrick looked at Lancelot with admiration.
"Fine. Bring the sausage and pork! And go collect some clean snow!" Lancelot ordered.
Podrick left, and Lancelot approached the iron pot. He rubbed his hands together to conjure a small firebird and tossed it into the wood. Smoke rose immediately—the wood Podrick gathered was a bit damp and hard to burn!
But Lancelot made do.
Tyrion, bundled up in three layers of clothes inside and three layers outside, waddled over to Lancelot.
"Lancelot, is the food ready?"
"My dear uncle! Even if you eat on time, you won't grow any taller. Not unless you find some Bone-Strengthening Pills," Lancelot joked.
"Bone-Strengthening Pills? What are those?" Tyrion asked curiously.
"Something that can change a person's bones and tendons. In other words, something that can make you taller, handsome, beautiful, and so on."
"How much for one?" Tyrion asked, practically drooling.
"I've only heard of them in legends! Never seen one myself!" Lancelot shook his head.
Tyrion immediately looked disappointed.
Benjen and the others also gathered around Lancelot.
"Well now, the young lord of House Lannister is eating, eh?" Yoren said, flashing a mouthful of yellow teeth.
"None for you, don't even think about it!" Lancelot waved him off.
"Why so distant? You are the King's envoy, after all!" Yoren sat down next to Lancelot and draped an arm over his shoulder.
"I thought you men of the Night's Watch stood apart, aligning with no faction and no family," Lancelot laughed.
Yoren looked a bit embarrassed.
"Young lord! We're traveling to the Wall together, aren't we? You can't just let us starve!" Yoren said shamelessly.
It wasn't that they had no food, but their rations were far inferior to Lancelot's. Especially since Lancelot could heat up their wine before drinking it.
In the end, Lancelot let everyone, including the two prisoners, eat their fill before setting off again.
However, when they reached the depths of the Wolfswood, they were ambushed.
A rain of arrows from all sides forced them to take cover.
Melisandre hid underneath Hrakkar. The massive lion was a huge target, but with four inches of fat and four inches of thick fur, he provided sufficient protection for her.
Lancelot held up the Valyrian steel shield he had won from the lottery, shielding Tyrion and shoving him into a hollow tree trunk.
"Mountain clans? Or a wildling ambush?" Tyrion asked.
"Maybe worse, Uncle." Lancelot looked thoughtfully in the direction the arrows were coming from.
"What is happening? Benjen, why are we being ambushed?" Yoren shouted from behind a three-man-wide oak tree to Benjen Stark, who was behind another tree.
The Night's Watch was being ambushed—and in the North, no less! Was there no law? Was there no justice?
"I don't know. The northern houses have varying strengths, but only two or three besides House Stark have this many archers. I'm afraid..."
Benjen Stark picked up an arrow from the ground to examine it.
"This arrow has a steel head. The mountain clans and wildlings don't have this kind of craftsmanship. It must be one of the major houses. They knew our movements and specifically ambushed us here. I fear they mean to kill us! But why?" Benjen Stark couldn't understand.
Lancelot, however, had a vague guess.
Although the enemy might not know why Lancelot and his group were going to the Wall, their roster wasn't a secret.
King Robert had stayed in Winterfell for a long time, so the other northern lords surely knew. However, without a summons from the King or Lord Eddard, they wouldn't come to Winterfell easily.
The news that Eddard Stark had left Winterfell to become Hand of the King in King's Landing was also known across the North.
Choosing this moment to attack Lancelot's group meant the target definitely wasn't Yoren. It might be Benjen Stark, or perhaps Lancelot and Tyrion.
But guesses were just guesses. They needed a captive to get answers.
"You guys protect yourselves. I'm going to take out the hidden enemies." Lancelot said.
With the Valyrian steel shield in one hand and the Valyrian steel spear in the other, Lancelot charged out, fearless of the arrow rain.
His movements were agile, and his equipment was superior, so he successfully closed in on the enemy.
Seeing him approach through the arrow storm, the ambushers looked terrified. They hadn't expected anyone to charge them like that.
Lancelot swept through them like a whirlwind, leaving only two alive. However, during the slaughter, he noticed something strange: none of them screamed.
Finally, Lancelot dragged two men in black wool tunics before the group.
"Interrogate them!" Lancelot ordered.
Benjen Stark held a dagger to one man's throat.
"Speak! Who sent you to assassinate us?"
"Ugh! Ugh! Ahhh!"
The man gesticulated wildly and finally opened his mouth. His tongue had been cut out.
"Are they all mutes?"
After checking them one by one, Lancelot realized why they hadn't screamed even when dying—they were all mute.
"Cutting out tongues... that's something only Aerys or Euron would do," Lancelot noted.
"You think you're funny?" Yoren glared at Lancelot.
"I don't mean you, Yoren. I mean the Ironborn, Euron Greyjoy, also called Crow's Eye," Lancelot clarified.
"Euron Crow's Eye is the captain of the Silence. His crew are all mutes; he cuts out their tongues. Even the slaves on his ship are mute, including the women."
"I know he devised the plan to burn the Lannister fleet, severely weakening our house," Tyrion said, crawling out of the tree hollow.
"Correct. Although Victarion commanded the battle, the strategy was Euron's."
Lancelot began pulling arrows out of Hrakkar.
But he didn't really need to pull them; Hrakkar shook his fur, and most of them fell out on their own.
Lancelot checked the wounds. Nothing serious; it wouldn't affect his running.
"I doubt they can give us any useful information. Let me kill them!" Benjen Stark said.
"No!" Lancelot stopped him.
"The Night's Watch just lost two recruits!"
Yoren's two prisoners had died, turned into pincushions by the arrows.
Because their hands and feet were chained, they tripped over tree roots while trying to run and went straight to the Seven Hells.
"These two can replace them! Yoren, this way your trip wasn't for nothing."
Yoren thought about it and agreed.
So, two mutes who couldn't speak or write became the newest recruits for the Night's Watch.
Lancelot and the others still didn't know who wanted them dead.
Although the culprit was hidden in layers of fog, the truth would eventually come to light.
Lancelot's group continued forward. After the ambush in the Wolfswood, they encountered no more enemies, only a few wild beasts.
Hrakkar attacked and killed three wolves and a bear.
So, that night, Tyrion happily feasted on bear paws.
Melisandre kept the bear gall, claiming it was important medicine.
Lancelot gave the wolf and bear pelts to Aguda and Podrick.
As a wildling, Aguda naturally knew how to make clothes from animal skins. In no time, he sewed a bear-skin coat and put it on.
"Even among wildlings, few can kill a bear, especially an adult male! The most I ever killed alone was a female bear," Aguda said.
"You are still young. In ten years, when you are twenty-five, perhaps you can become a proper Westerosi knight," Lancelot said.
"Knight? Without a warhorse, without armor, without a longsword or a lance, what good is a knight?" Aguda said with disdain.
Lancelot shook his head.
"A knight's honor does not come from his horse, armor, or weapon, but from his loyalty and the justice in his heart. Have you heard the story of Duncan the Tall?"
Aguda shook his head.
"Then let me tell you! Duncan the Tall was born in the Flea Bottom of King's Landing. His name was originally Dunk..."
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