Baelon's attempt to reach Last Hearth did not go unimpeded.
He had been riding Sheepstealer hard through the high cold air, the wind tearing at his cloak, when a faint, lilting voice sounded beside his ear, as soft as falling leaves.
"Dragon King who should never have been born… stay your flight for a moment, and hear our voices."
Baelon tightened his knees and drew the dragon down from his headlong rush. Sheepstealer's great wings beat once, twice, then folded as the beast descended toward a barren stretch of ground. The dragon landed with a rumble that sent pebbles skittering.
"…The Children of the Forest," Baelon said, his voice flat.
From between the rocks emerged several small, hunched figures. They were scarcely half the height of a man, with long limbs, oversized ears, and eyes that gleamed gold even in the gray northern light. Their clothes were woven of leaves and bark, cunningly stitched, and their bare feet made no sound upon the earth.
They were few. Too few.
One among them stepped forward, her garments more elaborate than the rest, her bearing calm despite the dragon towering above her.
"Great Dragon King, noble son of men," she said in clear Common Tongue. "The child Tako greets you."
Baelon looked down at them from Sheepstealer's back, his expression hard.
"You should be north of the Wall," he said. "Why do you come south now? The Free Folk did not breach the Wall alone. Your people had a hand in it."
At the first sight of them, he had already understood.
The wildlings alone could never have crossed the Wall without the Night's Watch knowing. Ravens would have flown from every castle along the Wall, warnings would have spread like fire along dry grass.
Yet none had come.
The Children of the Forest had no need of ravens. They whispered to birds, bent beasts to their will, and turned the natural world into a web of silent messengers. What carried news for the realms of men could be stilled just as easily.
"Forgive us, great Dragon King," Tako said, sorrow coloring her tone. "We came south out of necessity."
"Necessity?" Baelon gave a short, mirthless laugh. "You call a planned assault necessity. If you have excuses, speak them to my dragonfire."
He laid a gloved hand against Sheepstealer's rough-scaled neck. The dragon rumbled low in its chest, heat gathering, a dull orange glow kindling behind its teeth.
The other Children drew back, fear plain upon their faces. Their ancient arts were useless here. Against a dragon, there was no hiding, no command, no escape.
"It is a pity," Baelon went on coolly. "A few more of your dwindling kind will vanish from the world today."
"Please remain calm, Lord Baelon," Tako said. She did not retreat. She did not raise her voice. "Our dealings with the Free Folk were matters of cooperation, not enmity toward you."
"We made a pact. They would shelter the Children of the Forest and guide us beyond the Wall and into the south. In return, we would help them take the castles of the Night's Watch during the fighting."
She stood closest to Sheepstealer's jaws, where the heat had begun to shimmer the air, yet her face did not change. Calmly, carefully, she told the tale from its beginning.
Baelon listened, his eyes narrowed.
"Oh," he said at last, a thin smile touching his lips. "So you claim you are not my enemy."
When a man truly does not know what to say, he laughs.
You aid in the fall of Night's Watch castles, spill the blood of sworn brothers, and then protest innocence. Only a fool would swallow such words.
"We are not your enemies, great Dragon King," Tako replied. "We came south because our greenseers commanded it. Our whole people seeks refuge beneath your banner."
"We first tried to treat with the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch. We asked leave to pass the Wall in peace. He refused us. Worse, he sought to seize us, to sell us across the Seven Kingdoms for silver."
Her voice softened, but did not waver.
"With no other path left, we turned to the Free Folk. They offered protection, and a way south. Once beyond the Wall, our accord with them was to end."
From her words, the story became clear. The Children of the Forest, dwindled almost to nothing, had been driven by prophecy to seek the lands of men. They had trusted in old oaths, in ancient amity forged during the Dawn War.
But the Night's Watch of this age was not the Watch of legend.
The Lord Commander had seen profit where once there had been duty. To him, the last Children were curiosities, prizes to be sold to lords and mummers and worse.
Outnumbered and betrayed, they had chosen the lesser evil.
"We believed that since the Age of Heroes, our bond with the Night's Watch endured," Tako said quietly. "Each year, for centuries, we gifted them obsidian blades, a hundred at a time."
"The Lord Commander himself still wore one at his belt."
"How could we not feel rage?"
"When the Watchmen who attacked us were slain, our fury passed."
She bowed her head slightly.
"If you yet burn with anger, then let it fall upon us. The Children of the Forest are ready to bear the cost, and face the fire of your dragon."
Baelon was silent for a long moment.
Truth be told, the fate of the Night's Watch stirred little feeling in him. Once, taking the black had been a noble calling. Knights and second sons had sworn themselves freely to guard the realms of men.
Now the Wall was manned by thieves, rapers, and cutthroats hauled from dungeons by wandering crows. The Watch had become a place of exile, not honor.
Even so.
They were sworn to the Iron Throne.
To slaughter them without judgment was to slight the authority of House Targaryen.
"Punishment will come," Baelon said at last. His voice was cold as frost. "The dignity of House Targaryen cannot be mocked."
"But I have no time to spend it here."
"If you wish to submit, go to Harrenhal and wait for me. When this crisis is ended, I will decide your fate."
He had no intention of lingering.
If his instincts were true, the Free Folk host was already on the march. Last Hearth stood in their path, and the Umbers would not be ready.
The ancient seat would not hold long.
"I regret that we can offer you little aid," Tako said, bowing.
"But from what I know, the Bone-Armored King commands a giant host, over a thousand strong."
(When Mance Rayder ruled beyond the Wall, he had several hundred giants. At this point in time, there should be far more.)
"And with the help of a defector from the Night's Watch, a builder of engines, they have fashioned great throwing weapons, meant for giants to wield."
"Beyond the Wall, we heard the earth shake as massive stones were cast."
"Be wary."
Once the Wall fell, the Children of the Forest had gone their own way. Their knowledge was imperfect, but she gave him all of it.
Baelon inclined his head a fraction.
"One thing still troubles me," he said. "What did your greenseers see that drove you to such desperation? What future was so dire that your dying people risked everything to come south?"
Tako did not seem surprised by the question.
"In the visions of our kind, our fate has long been clear," she said. "The Children of the Forest are meant to fade, to pass from the world as leaves fall from a dying tree."
"But last year, one of our final greenseers spoke again, as she lay upon her deathbed."
For the first time, emotion touched Tako's face.
"She saw two paths."
"In one, we remain beyond the Wall, dwindling until we are no more than a story told by men."
"In the other…"
Her golden eyes lifted to meet Baelon's.
"We gather beneath your banner. We follow you in war and conquest."
"And in the end, we are given a forest of our own. A vast green refuge, where our children may live, and our children's children after them."
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A/N: If you think you know what comes next… you don't. The answers are already waiting ahead.
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