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〃A man can own a woman or a man can own a knife；〃 Ygritte told him； 〃but no man can own both。 Every little girl learns that from her mother。〃 She raised her chin defiantly and gave her thick red hair a shake。 〃And men can't own the land no more'n they can own the sea or the sky。 You kneelers think you do； but Mance is going t' show you different。〃
It was a fine brave boast； but it rang hollow。 Jon glanced back to make certain the Magnar was not in earshot。 Errok； Big Boil； and Hempen Dan were walking a few yards behind them； but paying no attention。 Big Boil was plaining of his arse。 〃Ygritte；〃 he said in a low voice； 〃Mance cannot win this war。〃
〃He can！〃 she insisted。 〃You know nothing； Jon Snow。 You have never seen the free folk fight！〃
Wildlings fought like heroes or demons； depending on who you talked to； but it came down to the same thing in the end。 They fight with reckless courage； every man out for glory。 〃I don't doubt that you're all very brave； but when it es to battle； discipline beats valor every time。 in the end Mance will fail as all the Kings…beyond…the…Wall have failed before him。 And when he does； you'll die。 All of you。〃
Ygritte had looked so angry he thought she was about to strike him。 〃All of us；〃 she said。 〃You too。 You're no crow now； Jon Snow。 I swore you weren't； so you better not be。〃 She pushed him back against the trunk of a tree and kissed him； full on the lips right there in the midst of the ragged column。 Jon heard Grigg the Goat urging her on。 Someone else laughed。 He kissed her back despite all that。 When they finally broke apart； Ygritte was flushed。 〃You're mine；〃 she whispered。 〃Mine； as I'm yours。 And if we die； we die。 All men must die； Jon Snow。 But first we'll live。〃
〃Yes。〃 His voice was thick。 〃First we'll live。〃
She grinned at that； showing Jon the crooked teeth that he had somehow e to love。 Wildling to the bone； he thought again； with a sick sad feeling in the pit of his stomach。 He flexed the fingers of his sword hand； and wondered what Ygritte would do if she knew his heart。 Would she betray him if he sat her down and told her that he was still Ned Stark's son and a man of the Night's Watch？ He hoped not； but he dare not take that risk。 Too many lives depended on his somehow reaching Castle Black before the Magnar 。 。 。 assuming he found a chance to escape the wildlings。
They had descended the south face of the Wall at Greyguard； abandoned for two hundred years。 A section of the huge stone steps had collapsed a century before； but even so the descent was a good deal easier than the climb。 From there Styr marched them deep into the Gift； to avoid the Watch's customary patrols。 Grigg the Goat led them past the few inhabited villages that remained in these lands。 Aside from a few scattered roundtowers poking the sky like stone fingers； they saw no sign of man。 Through cold wet hills and windy plains they marched； unwatched； unseen。
You must not balk； whatever is asked of you； the Halfhand had said。 Ride with them； eat with them； fight with them； for as long as it takes。 He'd ridden many leagues and walked for more； had shared their bread and salt； and Ygritte's blankets as well； but still they did not trust him。 Day and night the Therms watched him； alert for any signs of betrayal。 He could not get away； and soon it would be too late。
Fight with them； Qhorin had said； before he surrendered his own life to Longclaw 。 。 。 but it had not e to that； till now。 Once I shed a brother's blood I am lost。 I cross the Wall for good then； and there is no crossing back。
After each day's march the Magnar summoned him to ask shrewd sharp questions about Castle Black； its garrison and defenses。 Jon lied where he dared and feigned ignorance a few times； but Grigg the Goat and Errok listened as well； and they knew enough to make Jon careful。 Too blatant a lie would betray him。
But the truth was terrible。 Castle Black had no defenses； but for the Wall itself。 It lacked even wooden palisades or earthen dikes。 The 〃castle〃 was nothing more than a cluster of towers and keeps； two…thirds of them falling into ruin。 As for the garrison； the Old Bear had taken two hundred on his ranging。 Had any returned？ Jon could not know。 Perhaps four hundred remained at the castle； but most of those were builders or stewards； not rangers。
The Therms were hardened warriors； and more disciplined than the mon run of wildling； no doubt that was why Mance had chosen them。 The defenders of Castle Black would include blind Maester Aemon and his half…blind steward Clydas； one…armed Donal Noye； drunken Septon Cellador； Deaf Dick Follard； Three…Finger Hobb the cook； old Ser Wynton Stout； as well as Halder and Toad and Pyp and Albett and the rest of the boys who'd trained with Jon。 And manding them would be red…faced Bowen Marsh； the plump Lord Steward who had been made castellan in Lord Mormont's absence。 Dolorous Edd sometimes called Marsh 〃the Old Pomegranate；〃 which fit him just as well as 〃the Old Bear〃 fit Mon mont。 〃He's the man you want in front when the foes are in the field；〃 Edd would say in his usual dour voice。 〃He'll count them right up for you。 A regular demon for counting； that one。〃
If the Magnar takes Castle Black unawares； it will be red slaughter； boys butchered in their beds before they know they are under attack。 Jon had to warn them； but how？ He was never sent out to forage or hunt； nor allowed to stand a watch alone。 And he feared for Ygritte as well。 He could not take her； but if he left her； would the Magnar make her answer for his treachery？ Two hearts that beat as one 。 。 。
They shared the same sleeping skins every night； and he went to sleep with her head against his chest and her red hair tickling his chin。 The smell of her had bee a part of him。 Her crooked teeth； the feel of her breast when he cupped it in his hand； the taste of her mouth 。 。 。 they were his joy and his despair。 Many a night he lay with Ygritte warm beside him； wondering if his lord father had felt this confused about his mother； whoever she had been。 Ygritte set the trap and Mance Rayder pushed me into it。
Every day he spent among the wildlings made what he had to do that much harder。 He was going to have to find some way to betray these men； and when he did they would die。 He did not want their friendship； any more than he wanted Ygritte's love。 And yet 。 。 。 the Therms spoke the Old Tongue and seldom talked to Jon at all； but it was different with Jarl's raiders； the men who'd climbed the Wall。 Jon was ing to know them despite himself： gaunt； quiet Errok and gregarious Grigg the Goat； the boys Quort and Bodger； Hempen Dan the ropernaker。 The worst of the lot was Del； a horsefaced youth near Jon's own age； who would talk dreamily of this wildling girl he meant to steal。 〃She's lucky； like your Ygritte。 She's kissed by fire。〃
Jon had to bite his tongue。 He didn't want to know about Del's girl or Bodger's mother； the place by the sea that Henk the Helm came from； how Grigg yearned to visit the green men on the isle of Faces； or the time a moose had chased Toefinger up a tree。 He didn't want to hear about the boil on Big Boil's arse； how much ale Stone Thumbs could drink； or how Quort's li