The roar of the crowd was deafening, drowning out the clank of Smalljon's sword as it hit the beaten earth. Willian lowered his own blade, the smile widening on his face. Smalljon Umber, panting, was the first to stand up. "You're a damn good fighter, you son of a bitch." The praise, coming from a man of Smalljon's reputation, was worth more than any shout from the audience.
Willian smiled widely and then opened his arms. "Anyone else?"
The men laughed enthusiastically and tried their luck.
After the sparring, Willian's reputation took a positive turn. He was no longer just the 'Merchant Wolf', a nickname with negative connotations in the North, but he also earned the title of 'Great Wolf' for being the largest of the young Starks and also for being so good in combat.
After Smalljon, others tried to fight Willian, but things were extremely simple.
'To think it would be so easy to win...' Willian was riding with his men toward White Harbor. It was time to gain practical experience in combat. The bandits and wildlings in the North would be a good start.
'I suppose I shouldn't get conceited.' Even having won duels, this skill is of little value in a war. Jaime Lannister, a good fighter, confined himself to commanding troops on the battlefield.
"My lord, we are close" One of his men came to warn him that they were arriving at the site of the attacks on the merchants.
"All right, go prepare the men" Willian replied, letting his mind quickly slip elsewhere.
-
"Good boy..." The young wildling was brushing his fur and looking at him affectionately. The sound of footsteps and conversations was heard from outside the tent where she lived.
The young woman looked worried. Voices were heard: "She's not a warg...", "But then how can she...", "Maybe someone has an interest in her...". The voices made her tremble as she looked at the direwolf. She faked a smile, but the discomfort was visible. Woff... he let out a small sound to wake her from her state of mind.
"Ygritte, we need to stop this madness!" A slightly older woman entered the tent, her face red and her eyes impatient.
The girl put her body in front of the direwolf. "...He doesn't want to hurt me!"
The other woman looked impatiently at Ygritte and the wolf. "He's here by someone's order!" The woman pulled a knife from inside her clothes.
Willian made the direwolf stand up and growl. The woman stepped back, startled.
"No, Val! Don't hurt him!" Ygritte positioned herself even further between the two, with her arms open. "I would have been humiliated, used as a toy!" She pointed to the wolf. "He saved me!" She stared at Val, baring her teeth. "Fucking controlled or not! I'd suck the cock of whoever sent him here to thank them!"
Val sighed and put the knife back in her clothes. "Girl, even if he helped you..."
"HE SAVED ME FROM BECOMING A FUCKING SLAVE!" Ygritte screamed, her face turning red.
Val swallowed hard. "I told you those sons of bitches weren't trustworthy, you wouldn't listen!" Ygritte turned and hugged the direwolf. "He saved me, did more for me..." She turned with a venomous look at Val.
Val flinched, regretful. "He is dangerous" Val pointed to the wolf. "...if he stays, you must ensure that he won't hurt anyone..."
"He won't!" Ygritte interrupted.
Val sighed and looked around, trying to find a way out. "Ygritte, try to convince whoever controls the wolf... try to make him come to us..."
Ygritte turned to the direwolf and stared at him thoughtfully.
The girl smiled, her face flushed. "Okay... I can do that."
Willian, who was witnessing everything through the direwolf's eyes, was curious about the scene. Since he wasn't in full control of the wolf, he couldn't understand the words spoken, only capturing the emotion of the fight. He understood the gist of the situation. A low sound, Woff! escaped the wolf.
-
"My lord, everyone is ready" the man interrupted Willian.
"Ok, let's go." Next to the road, there was still an overturned and destroyed carriage. Willian approached and looked carefully.
"...They were merchants from the Riverlands, milord" the man pointed to an almost invisible mark on the carriage. "Everyone was killed..." The man's voice was vague.
"Everyone?" Willian questioned, realizing something was off-key.
"...Well, all the men, milord." Then, he realized what the man meant: bandits and wildlings typically only steal and kill the men... the fate of the women was another, a worse one.
"You told me it's been two days..." Willian looked at the few clues they had: just lifeless bodies partially eaten by wildlife and some chipped weapons.
"Yes, milord, they were last seen in White Harbor, and should have arrived in Winterfell within that time, but they never showed up. Our trade route patrol found them yesterday." Willian nodded and went to look at the weapons: rustic and poorly made axes. He also noticed that there were other dead men besides those who seemed to be from the caravan.
"Wildlings?" The clothes of the dead men were all made of animal hides, and their faces were thin and crude.
"Deserters, milord. One of our men recognized one of them; he seems to be one of the criminals sent to the Wall." Willian sighed. The Wall was a ticking time bomb for the North nowadays. With the growing decrease in volunteers, the number of criminals was starting to become oppressive, and it probably wouldn't be long before they became a headache for the nobles.
"Just deserters?" Willian continued examining the remnants of the caravan: embedded arrows, dry blood, torn clothes... In the corner, he saw a piece of female clothing. There was, in fact, a woman in that caravan.
"Hard to say, milord. If there are deserters, there must be some local bandits too, but there's still a chance there are wildlings." The man maintained a serious look. The North was a cauldron of problems.
Willian looked around. "Do we know where they are?"
The man nodded in agreement. "Yes, milord. Earlier today, our scouts found their hideout within the tundra." The man cleared his throat and continued. "There were about forty raiders." Willian looked at his men. They were twenty. However, his men were well-equipped and trained.
Willian's heart pounded, the idea of a confrontation seemed to make his blood boil. He felt the direwolf get excited too. Influenced by his feelings, the wolf started running out of the tent after some prey, and the girl beyond the wall anxiously ran after him. Willian had to slow the wolf down so she could keep up.
"Any captives?"
"Yes, milord. They seemed to have some captive women." The man gave a look of pure disgust.
Willian went to his horse and grabbed his sword; they would have to proceed on foot from now on. "Then, we can't waste time."
All the men organizedly began to follow the path. Willian looked back and saw the pages attending to the horses.
'Maybe I should leave some guards here…'
"Listen up!"
Everyone looked at him. "Five stay, in case they show up around here, you must take the horses and retreat."
"Milord!" the men tried to intercede; it was bold.
"15 of you plus me is enough to take care of these worms." Willian's firm posture made the men relax.