Most of Aegor's "own people" had long since resolved to follow and support him. There was no need to win them over again; a simple word or gesture from him and they would do as he said. However, there were exceptions. During his last frank conversation with the Mountain Clans, Aegor and Jaime had grown closer. But the Chief Logistics Officer still hadn't drawn the Kingslayer fully into his inner circle.
Now, with the plan to exploit a loophole in the election rules requiring every potential ally, Aegor couldn't afford to overlook anyone.
Unfortunately, the Kingslayer's response nearly made Aegor spit blood.
"The brothers who came to the Wall with me were once under my father's command," Jaime said, "but now they are sworn brothers of the Night's Watch. They have the right to choose how to vote and who to follow."
...
"Well said. 'The right to choose for themselves.' Jaime, when it comes to naivety, I admire no one more than you." Aegor snapped. "You say they have the freedom to choose, but have you ever considered whether they had the freedom to choose whether or not to come to the Wall in the first place?"
Jaime was momentarily stunned.
"Did Lord Tywin put out a public notice after you decided to take the black, calling for volunteers to join you at the Wall? I doubt it. Let me guess. He likely had his men hand-pick fifty elite guards, either through generous reward or subtle coercion. In short, they had no choice. Whether they wanted to or not, they had to come!" Aegor fixed Jaime with an unrelenting stare. "Have you ever thought about that? You, who grew up the golden heir of House Lannister, who've always seen your parents, your sister, and your brother as 'people'… and everyone else? Nothing but numbers. As for the fifty men who followed you here, in your heart, they're probably not even individuals. Just digits on a page."
"No... they... they are also my sworn brothers now..."
"How many of them—your countrymen, your sworn brothers—can you name? And are they truly honored to be your 'sworn brothers'?"
Aegor pressed the point. For someone like Jaime Lannister who cared little for others, only direct confrontation could make him reflect. "I respect your decision to be a true member of the Night's Watch. But have you thought about those young Westerlanders who followed you here? Whatever means your father used to 'convince' them to don the black, the truth remains: to ensure you wouldn't be isolated and bullied at the Wall, fifty young men—entirely unrelated to your crimes—gave up their former lives, their future families, their hopes, and came to this frozen wasteland. They'll never marry, never have children, and will live and die at the edge of the world. You chose to come here out of guilt and to make amends for the harm you brought your house. But what about them? There are barely over forty left now. Have you mourned the ones who died outside Castle Black? And what about those still breathing—have you given them a thought?"
"Enough! Just because you're the Chief Logistics Officer doesn't mean you can order me around!" Jaime slammed his hand on the table, clearly irritated. But although Aegor's words had been harsh, they hadn't hit his deepest wounds. Jaime was only flustered from being exposed, not furious. "Even if I order them to follow your lead, can you guarantee they'll be able to take off the black?"
"I can guarantee it! The Night's Watch will have a withdrawal mechanism in the future. Whether you use it or not is up to you." Aegor answered firmly. He couldn't let go of control over those forty votes, even if it meant giving away some truth. "Even if you don't believe it, you owe it to them to tell them my promise. Like you said, they have the right to choose whether or not to trust me."
"Alright, alright, you're unbearably annoying." Jaime waved his hand. "My men and I will vote however you want. Satisfied?"
"Thank you." Aegor exhaled with relief. A smile quickly returned to his face. "But I don't plan to run in the first round. When the time comes, I'll send word on who to vote for..."
"You're not running? What kind of game are you playing?" Jaime frowned, then shrugged. "Never mind. I don't even want to know."
---
"He was once the Lord of Bear Island, head of House Mormont, and joined the Night's Watch for honor and conviction. In the ten years since taking the black, he remained loyal to his duty, diligent in his command, guiding his brothers through crisis after crisis..."
Atop the platform, Maester Aemon began the eulogy in a low, steady voice. Having lived more than a century, the old Maester had thought Jeor Mormont would be the last Lord Commander he'd ever serve. Who would've thought that the ever-energetic, seemingly indestructible Mormont would suffer such a sudden and senseless death. Reading the eulogy, his frail body trembling, Aemon felt like a white-haired elder burying a black-haired youth.
And by age alone, that wasn't far from the truth.
In the central square of Castle Black, Aegor stood silently among the gathered crowd, gazing at the corpse of his former superior, laid upon the pyre. His thoughts were heavy.
Before crossing into this world, when he was just one of the common people, Aegor had shared the belief of many that leaders should be close to the people—no entourages, no cleared paths, no security detail. All of that seemed like unnecessary posturing.
But after Bear Old's untimely death, Aegor now understood a brutal truth: from the moment one becomes a high-ranking official or a leader of any kind, their life no longer belongs solely to them. It belongs to the entire institution they serve. If you're careless, and someone with or without malice exploits that, the result could be disaster. Jeor Mormont had died at the hands of a mob. The damage done to the Night's Watch—and to Aegor's own plans—was enormous.
Even for the sake of others, a leader must value his own safety.
With that lesson etched in his mind, Aegor now stood surrounded by his most trusted men at the Wall, with Jon and his friends on one side, and Jaime and his guards on the other. He silently vowed that if need be, he would live like a "coward" all his life—suspicious, careful, always vigilant. He would give no one the opportunity to harm him.
...
"He was Jeor Mormont, and his watch has ended." Maester Aemon, lost briefly in a daze, spoke the final line of the eulogy, coughed twice, and left the platform with the help of an assistant.
A Ranger approached the pyre with a torch and lit the kindling. Because of the circumstances of his death, it was deemed inappropriate to cremate Mormont at Nightfort, a location not permanently garrisoned by the Night's Watch. Out of fear that his body might "rise" again, the brothers who retrieved him had wrapped his corpse tight as a mummy.
Now, as the flames consumed him, everyone could at least be sure that their former Commander would not return as a wight.
The fire grew brighter and brighter. Soon the shape of the body could no longer be seen. Aegor stared silently into the flames, waiting for them to die down. He was just about to announce his next major news...
But someone spoke first.
"That's it?" Yohn Royce called out loudly. "Burn Commander Mormont and then move on to electing the next one like nothing happened? What about the man who suggested letting in the Wildlings? Shouldn't he be punished?"
No avoiding it.
Aegor frowned, bitterly missing Old Bear—when he had still been alive, Mormont had handled these matters with care. Understanding the potential for infighting, he had specifically sent the members of the Alliance of the Righteous to Eastwatch upon his return from the North, removing obstacles from Aegor's path.
But now that Mormont was dead, the Commander of Eastwatch had brought people to Castle Black under the pretense of attending the election.
This is a direct shot at me. I've been too high-profile lately.
Aegor sighed. Fortunately, he was still the Chief Logistics Officer, a rank equal to any in the Watch, and had considerable influence at Castle Black. He wasn't completely vulnerable.
"Commander Mormont's ashes are still warm, and Ser Royce is already eager to stir up infighting and seek personal revenge? It's true that the Commander accepted my proposal to integrate the people from Beyond the Wall as Grey Area Citizens of the Gift. But allow me to remind you, in any land... a suggestion is not a crime. If you wish to punish me for it, you must first be elected Commander."
Ser Royce snorted but didn't pursue the argument.
"I'm not running in the election," he said.
"Coincidentally, neither am I," Aegor replied with a smile. "One more thing. Commander Mormont issued an order banning the use of the word 'Wildling' within the Gift. Yet here you are, saying it publicly at Castle Black. That's a violation of Night's Watch regulations."
"Yes, we're supposed to say 'New Gift People,'" Cotter Pyke said with a raspy laugh. "Those New Gift People we let inside the Wall, only for them to stone Commander Mormont to death!"
"There was no 'they,' only one killer who threw the stone," Aegor said firmly, seizing the moment to shift the conversation toward what he had been waiting to announce. "Where I come from, there's a saying—'Every injustice has its culprit, every debt its debtor.' Now, that killer has been caught and brought to justice by Ser Buckwell. If you lords wish, we can hold the trial before the next Lord Commander is elected."
(To be continued.)
***
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