The torch cast long, flickering shadows of Jon and the dragon eggs scattered across the floor.
As the flame danced, the shadows twisted, performing a strange, rhythmic dance.
Jon picked up a shard of broken eggshell from the ground; it was sharp and hard, like shattered glass.
Looking down, he found the remains of two hatchlings, roughly the size of his foot.
They likely starved to death, unable to find food, or died prematurely for other reasons.
Even dragons hatched by Targaryens had records of dying within hours.
Two tiny dragon skeletons, like ink blots at the end of a draconic epic.
Desolate and tragic.
Jon counted the remaining eggs. Aside from the two hatched ones, there were twenty-three intact dragon eggs here!
Daenerys only got three as wedding gifts; he had stumbled upon twenty-three in one go!
But Jon quickly realized he couldn't take them all.
Leaving aside whether the dead pine tree could support the weight of hauling them up, could he even protect so many eggs?
Jon made a quick decision: he would take three and leave the rest here.
Then, he would pull down the dead pine tree!
That way, no one else could get up here.
If he ever successfully hatched a dragon in the future, he could fly back to retrieve the rest.
Looking at the floor full of eggs, Jon faced a dilemma: which three to choose?
---
The Painted Dog settlement was as quiet as it had been for centuries.
If not for the "tin men" soldiers stationed there, it would look no different from any other day.
"Elder Victor."
"Oh, Cheek."
Cheek arrived at the slope overlooking Fire-Cache Peak, and sure enough, Victor was there.
Jon's group had been gone for five days, and Victor's daughter, Sora, had also been missing for five days.
It didn't take a genius to figure out where that bold girl had gone.
Victor was worried.
"Worried about your girl?" Cheek asked with a teasing tone.
Victor glanced at him without answering, but Cheek continued:
"Don't worry. That outsider boy is the most outstanding young man I've ever seen. Even if he can't climb up, bringing your daughter back safely won't be a problem."
"And if he actually climbs up, what will you do?"
"Keep my promise, of course. Besides, if he marries my daughter, I might consider giving him the rest of the tribe's warriors too."
Cheek looked at Victor as if seeing him for the first time.
"You really care about this daughter, huh? Doesn't the woman you snatched hate you?"
"I care about my daughter; what does that have to do with that woman? She's just spoils of war," Victor retorted, then added softly, "I know Sora wants to leave the tribe. If she ends up with someone like him, I can rest easy..."
Cheek looked at his old rival and friend without saying anything. Then he mentioned Hughwolf and shared his suspicions.
He believed Hughwolf was up to no good.
"Just a Hughwolf. I don't take him seriously," Victor said proudly.
Cheek was about to say something else when he suddenly saw three plumes of thick smoke rising from the summit of Fire-Cache Peak.
"Victor, look! That outsider boy... he did it!"
---
At the start of this trip, counting Hughwolf's men, there were about twenty people.
Now, including Sora and Hakon, only six remained.
Six people gathered around three dragon eggs in a temporary camp, their eyes filled with wonder and fascination.
The three dragon eggs looked like massive gemstones.
Jon had chosen one wine-red egg, one dark red egg, and one that was mostly white with a red patch on top.
"This is a dragon egg? How can such a small egg hatch such a huge dragon?" Hakon couldn't help but ask, pointing at one of the eggs.
Sora stroked an egg; it was heavy and felt cool and comfortable to the touch.
Old York clutched the wine-red egg, refusing to let go, practically drooling.
He was speechless with excitement.
He never dreamed he would see a dragon egg with his own eyes, let alone touch one.
Seeing everyone's reaction, Jon first addressed the two veterans:
"Listen well. If I hear a word about dragon eggs in the camp, even if you kill a thousand men for me, I won't give you any reward. But if the secret is kept, I will give your families five hundred pounds of grain!"
Hearing Jon's offer, the two veterans nodded repeatedly.
Five hundred pounds of grain—if eaten sparingly, that was enough to feed a person for two years!
Jon then turned to Hakon and Sora. Just as he was about to instruct them to keep the secret, Sora covered her mouth and pointed behind Jon at the two veterans.
Jon turned around and saw their mouths were bloody, and each held half a tongue in their hand.
With blood in his mouth, one veteran smiled at Jon, showed him the severed piece of tongue, and then tossed it off the cliff like trash.
They were illiterate, unable even to write their own names. Now that they couldn't speak, they couldn't possibly leak the secret.
Their decisiveness silenced Jon.
He knew perfectly well that a simple warning left room for the secret to leak.
Logically, killing them was the safest decision.
But Jon also knew why these veterans came to fight. First, to lighten the burden on their children; second, in hopes of earning some merit so their children could survive the coming winter.
From the moment they stepped out their doors, they had been calculating the value of their lives.
To Jon, they weren't cannon fodder to be discarded, but living people.
In the end, Jon said nothing, but secretly resolved to be extra cautious on the battlefield and plan meticulously.
He absolutely would not let any soldier who followed him die in vain.
"Jon, do we... have to cut our tongues too?" Hakon asked suddenly, making Jon want to laugh despite himself.
"No, Hakon. There are still dragon eggs on the mountain. My point is, you keep my secret about obtaining these eggs, and I'll keep the secret of the remaining eggs for you. In the future, if you become an elder, maybe you can bring people up to retrieve them. Even if they can't hatch dragons anymore, they're worth a lot of money—enough to equip everyone in your tribe with armor."
"Really?!"
"Of course."
"Good. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone."
Hakon looked at the rope still hanging from the dead tree, wishing he could climb up right now.
But Jon saw through his thoughts. He gave the rope a yank, and the dead tree was uprooted, tumbling down the cliff.
"Take your time. You can send people to drive pitons into the rock face later. That tree couldn't hold anymore."
Seeing Jon's reminder, Hakon looked grateful.
Jon wasn't worried about Hakon retrieving the eggs anytime soon.
With the metallurgical technology of this world, unless he used Valyrian steel, drilling holes in that rock face would take a lifetime.
Moreover, a clan like the Painted Dogs barely smelted bronze; iron was difficult for them.
With the pine tree gone, it was practically impossible for anyone to climb up there in the near future.
Now, it was time to go back and receive his wildling army.