A young maester, John, grapples with his past, his present duties at a decaying castle, and the looming mysteries of the seasons and political upheaval, all while seeking to prove his worth and return to Oldtown.
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prologue
the wings unfolded wide before the gray sky
sky
sending a plume of snow into the frigid air
air dragons
dragons
john watched the beast intently noting
the movement of its legs counting its steps
steps
it turned right
lowered its head
closed its black eyes
from its pink gullet came forth a scream
piercing drowning out the sound of the
crashing ocean below daenerys
daenerys
the maester touched his ring of black
iron remembering archmaester walgrave's lessons
lessons
the old man could scarce remember his
own name yet the mysteries of ravencraft
still flopped around in his adult head
the language of the white ravens was not
something oft revealed to acolytes or
novices but on some days walgrave
mistook john for men named cressen
wallys or hoather and then he would
whisper away his beloved bird's secrets
with a smile and a conspiratorial wink
the conclave has met john thought
the young maester brought the bird in
from the window and let it stand on a
table within the turret
one year five turns and 12 days autumn
had lasted most maesters in the realm
believed the gathering of archmaesters
to be no more than a review of
measurements and figures to settle the
changing of the seasons
but maester john knew better
if the meeting were only about astronomy
the greybeards would leave it to
archmaester valen and his bronze
bedeckled followers
archmaester theobald has given orders to
his flock
jon had always been suspicious of the
citadel's white ravens even as a pink
neck novice
the pageantry of heralding a new season
with such remarkable mammoth birds was
uncharacteristic of an order that
professed humble service and why use
such clever creatures so sparingly he'd
been halfway to his iron link when he
discovered the sack of soot in walgree's rookery
rookery
it did not surprise jon that dragons had
caught the archmaester's attention they
had been the talk of old town just
before he'd left for the stony bluffs of
the crag at first he'd believed the
stories to be no more than ramblings of
drunken sailors like the tales of mermaids
mermaids
it was aleros as well informed as he was
well favored who assured him these tales
were true
the sphynx was right he's always right
the dragon queen is coming he had said
excitement shining through his customary
wicked grin
jon longed desperately to see that
glowing face again
if i can produce the proof they spoke of
he thought
the conclave will call me home
the grey rats who were banished from the
great nest added little to the library's
horde of knowledge left behind few
brilliant works
lived on in no acolytes memories a
castle maester's sad fate was to receive
his lord's pointless letters deliver his
witless whelps and be quickly forgotten
john did not belong at the crag let
alone cast amir he had to make the
archmaester see that
he had to finish his work
they will not leave me scurrying around
a ruined castle when i've solved the
mystery of the seasons when i can show
how and why they change as they do they
will not leave me here to freeze
warm weather waited for him in old town
warm weather and warm arms
the young maester was about to prompt
the raven to continue when voices began
to echo up the turret stare
john rose and tossed corn onto the table
for the bird before returning to the window
window
through the distant fog john could just
make out the docks of cragsport where
bravo was moored that thrice damned ship
the sole vessel of house westerling and
spicer had returned from the jade sea
two days prior and treasures seemed to
pour endlessly from its holds there were
silks of every color casks of wine and
rum and exotic liquors john had never
heard of
barrels upon barrels of rare and costly
spices chests brimming with ivory and
lacquered woods precious stones like so
many great glass eggs
the maester touched his ring of yellow
gold remembering archmaester rime's lessons
lessons
john had taken a partial inventory of
the goods and reckoned their value
it was no less than a fortune
by his figures the houses would have
more than enough coin to restore
castmere and drain most of its mines
silver and gold would flow from the
earth for generations
bravo's bounty was a blessing from the
gods to the impoverished lords
westerling and spicer and a curse to
maester john
john's new lord sir rolf spicer had been
gifted the flooded wreck of castmere for
his service to house lannister
though no one spoke of just what that
service had been
the up-jumped knight had insisted the
restoration of the castle begin within a
moon's turn with jon set to supervise
the builders
a maester must go where he has sent
john grumbled to himself he would spend
the winter overseeing the construction
of water wheels and horse capstans for
the draining of house rain's abandoned mines
mines
days trudging through mud and ice
knights shivering in a snow-covered tent
worst of all he would be a world away
from him
john turned sharply away from the window
in its view of the docks
the rippling waves had reminded him of
those ink black curls
maester amory entered the turret with
gawan westerling's children
they were a tedious bunch
amory may have been sharp enough when
he'd forged his chain 30 years ago but
this chilly rock had dulled the edge off
his mind the maester of the crag
troubled himself with no scholarly
pursuits he would leave behind no
writings no legacy
unless you count a bit of scheming
against the boy king
john feigned the respect due to him as
an elder though
perhaps the man would confirm his
findings when he had findings to confirm oh
oh
amory said abruptly i did not expect you
here just now
was that concern or irritation in his voice
voice
the two maesters had been sharing
amory's turret for the past half year as
john's rightful tower was at castmere
and had collapsed 40 years ago besides
john's notes and samples littered the
room no doubt irking the imposed upon
amory left to himself the westerling
maester would have surely kept his
turret as empty as his head the guards
on the battlements spied the white raven
we have come straight away to see for
ourselves of course said john with a
modest sweep of his arm he presented the
bird eating corn on emery's table
winter has arrived
one year five turns in 10 days autumn
has lasted declared maester amory to
jane elena and rollum who had followed
close at his heels to gawk at old town's
pale emissary
he said it with such satisfaction that
jon wondered if his fellow maester had
looked forward to this occasion if he'd
somehow spoiled the poor man's big
moment i hope this one talks said rollum
the last one must have been stupid it
didn't say anything
the last one must have been clever
silence beats talking to ralem any day
john suppressed a snigger lord
westerling's youngest son was a boy of
10 and the presumptive heir to the crag
ever since his elder brother had gone
missing during the red wedding the
native seashells was almost certainly
dead but none would say so within the
castle walls for feared lady sybil would
have them dangling out a tower window
ralem had little and less in common with
his lost brother from what john had
heard of the latter while reynold had
been rebellious and witty rollum was
serious and dutiful
too dutiful
he'd worshiped first reynold then robb
stark and now his sister jane jon had
once admired his own brother with eyes
as big and blind as their lord fathers
but by his seventh name day he'd gain
the wits enough to stop
the scars enough as well
the bird has not spoken apologized jon
not in the common tongue at least the
white raven corked before returning to
its corn
elena admired the bird
is it true that a long summer means an
even longer winter
i don't like the cold
the simple girl was the most tolerable
of the children as she was the least
seen her days were oft spent alone
watching the waves crash along the
bluffs from a castle window
that solitude would be short-lived she
had recently flowered so ravens had been
coming and going from the rookery this
past fortnight making a din of squawks
and marriage offers
a summer's length does influence the
bitterness of winter amory agreed
confidently wrong
the old maester only gaped at him when
jon tried to explain the movements of
the heavens
how he'd ever earned a bronze link was
itself a higher mystery but do not fear
child we have had a good harvest we
shall always have the bounty of the sea
and sir duncan has brought us ample
wealth with which to supply our wants he
smiled at the girl with affection this
winter shall be a kind one if chill air
is our most pressing concern
it's not
we should be using that wealth to hire
cell swords jane said grimly
lord gawan's eldest child made the most
exhausting company of the three the girl
had been a widow for well over half a
year but acted as if the young wolf had
died whilst breaking this morning's fast
more days than not she would rend her
gown no longer so much in mourning as to
provoke her mother
though the castle seamstress was the
only one truly riled the phrase must pay
for their treachery for what they did to
rob to reynold
she shot john an incredulous look
don't you agree at least you could have
lost kin at the red wedding yourself
it's a shame i didn't
before he took his vows maester john had
been john vance the fifth and final son
of lord norbert vance
the blind lord of atranta's children all
looked the same
tall comely boys with thick brown hair
they shared a vicious nature too all of
them but john
ellery and hugo by a kind of low cunning
had contrived to vent their cruelty on
the poor animals they caught on their
frequent hunts kurth was black tempered
and brutal with a vengeful heart but
left john unmolested when unprovoked
it was ronald who was the real monster
in house vance
in his eerie fits the young man would
roam the corridors of the castle
announcing himself its prince in quest
of evil warlocks to vanquish when jon
was a good evil warlock he would receive
mere beatings the scars on his arms and
back could attest that he hadn't always
been good he'd fought back too hard or
not hard enough and this had forced the
prince to smite him with his magic sword
ronald's rusty dirk
john might have died had he not
discovered his hiding place
the old storage room had been bricked up
long ago but he had accessed it by
removing a stone from the adjacent library
library
john would spend hours there reading by
candlelight hiding from prince ron
when the flame guttered out he would sit
in the dark
sometimes he slept sometimes a new day
waited when he emerged at 2 and 10 he
had asked his unseeing father to send
him to the citadel
perhaps one day kurth's rage would
surmount his fear and he'd take revenge
on ronald
john hoped so
i'm a master of the citadel bound in
service to castamere john said mildly in
response to the girl's ill-considered treason
treason
winter is not the season to start a war
my lady your grace snapped the girl
she styled herself a queen dowager
though she'd never so much as seen winterfell
winterfell
the queen in the north a title as absurd
as princess of zulambr the golden-haired
dream girl ronald said he was
prophesized to save
your grace
maester john corrected himself he bowed
his head humbly but still glimpsed
amory's expression
the craig's maester had made the same
error this morning with the same result
here the brothers of the order were in
silent agreement it was easier to humor her
her
let lady sybil wage that war
jane turned away from jon with a huff
and began eyeing amory's medicine
shelves the old maester had an
impressive display no doubt thanks to
lord gowan's lady wife according to
amory sipple spicer's grandmother had
been a karthian priestess named jarrada
zaccina mizurika she was a healer more
or less a wise one to her fellow
carthene and had sworn a noble vow to
aid the sick she brought with her from
the east a vast collection of potions
and ointments
though most of them were for carnal arousal
arousal
the small folk of the westerlands did
not understand what she was and made of
her an exotic curiosity a fortune teller
they called maggie offended by westerosi
ignorance girata wove baleful futures to
terrify those who sought prophecy within
her healing tent when the crone died the
tent was taken down and the medicines
made their way to amery's turret
rollum said the boy to the bird hoping
for a response
rollum the white raven looked up and
tilted its head
but said nothing
they are trained with food explained
john he would play amory's part a moment
an indulgent teacher
let us see what he can say
he offered a cloaked forearm to the bird
here he commanded its pale wings spread
and flapped as the raven leapt jon the
maester took a handful of kernels from
the sack and asked corn
corn
the great bird beat its wings with fury
slapping jon hard in the face elena and
rollum were squealing with laughter even
jane was struggling to keep her face
rebelliously sullen the white raven
pecked wildly at john's closed hand
drawing blood as the maester yelped in
pain the beastly thing jumped back to
the table screaming
then it finally spoke john
john
it caught the raven's voice was queerly panicked
panicked
john it repeated john john john
it walked about the table blood's still
on its beak
it seems to have learned your name
observed amory with only a hint of amusement
amusement
children i will need to see to maester
john's wound
still giggling at john's humiliation the
westerlings filed down the turret stare
as maester amory lit one candle then another
another
not too many john requested salvaging
his composure i'm keeping the turret
frigid for my observations do you see
those chunks of ice near the window
emery looked at the blocks frowned
just ice what knowledge do you hope to
muster from these
they shrink john said every day bit by
bit i'm recording how quickly they
dwindle they've been drying up like puddles
puddles
yes evaporation said amory the old man
found the bandages
every washer woman who has hung linen in
winter knows about that
just so said john did you ever wonder
why the wall does not do the same
emery paused thinking then said
rain and snow add to it making up for
what is lost
ah but then it would flatten and grow
wider at the bottom
john pointed to one of the ice chunks
with his bleeding hand see that one i've
been drizzling water on it maester
amory's mouth opened as if to say something
something
then shut
the white raven screamed john
the old man sat to look at the cut on
jon's hand when did you get these other
wounds he asked frowning at the scars
along john's fingertips the night before
i said my vows half a year ago or near
enough to make no matter
most of the scars on john's body were
painful memories but not the ones on his
fingers his face grew warm just thinking
of that night
the sphynx cleaned and bound my wounds
aleras we called him the sphinx an
acolyte brighter than most sharpest man
i know sharpest of whit i mean
he couldn't conceal his grin the pain in
his hand was forgotten
emery took his time examining every
finger one by one then abruptly looked
up at john with a laugh
ha when you said your vows i see it now
i cut my thumb on one when i was young
fool that i was
but by the gods these cuts go deep what
were you thinking did you try to
pleasure the thing
john answered only with a sheepish smile
before an acolyte becomes a maester he
must spend a night sealed in a dark
empty room with a pillar of valyrian
dragonglass twisted in black
the archmaesters called it a final test
though they meant it as a lesson in humility
humility
no one was expected to succeed it had
been aleros who had given him the notion
the business with the candle the
solution was simple yet elegant
a circular river the handsome acolyte
had explained an idea his mother had
heard from a shadow binder of all people
the copper stars calamine and wire had
been easy enough to smuggle in the
sleeves of his robe
the lemons were more of a challenge
he and the sphinx had used tree sap to
affix three dozen of them to his body up
and down his legs and around his torso
john had read of the maester's fruitless
attempts to light the glass candles over
the centuries where would pyres
dragonblood wildfire
one maester had even tried to sound a
horn borrowed from claw isle
in time the conclave gave up the pursuit
in earnest and consigned the task to
acolytes the glass candles became tokens
symbols of the higher mysteries
who would guess that lemons were the
answer all along
after fixing the final yellow fruit
gingerly to john's chest alaris had
produced a small piece of cloth from a
pocket in his sleeve within were several
dried mushrooms
from the summer isles he said to keep
you alert
without question john had placed the
fungus in his mouth chewed
chewed swallowed
swallowed
the mushrooms had the taste of dirt
they tasted two of apples in autumn of
saffron of trout fresh from the river
but what jon remembered best was the
taste of the sphinx's kiss
aleras had been fast taking john by
surprise though the kiss was tender his
lips were gentle warmer than spring
softest feathers
as intoxicating as cider
become the candle he whispered looking
up at john
his eyes were onyx shining in the light
the heavy laden john had been fortunate
enough to have the wattle-necked
half-blind archmaester heradon lock him
in the cell for the evening
in the dark john felt at home
he liked the darkness he was safe in the darkness
darkness
as blind as his father in atranta john
unstuck the lemons wincing with each one
and began connecting them with the wire
by feel as he worked he peered into the
center of the pitch black room
into the dragonglass
become the candle
the words of the sphinx haunted him
as did his kiss
at some point he must have fallen asleep
he awoke the next morning to the yelp of
archmaester garazan and the light of an
unflickering flame minutes later
archmaesters serathis and marwin were
questioning the almost maester stone
faced they listened as john giddily
explained to the copper stars the
calamine the lemons
he did not say a word valeros
afterward marwin took the glass candle
to his chambers to determine just what
had occurred
jon had been sure his feet would impress
the conclave earn him a valyrian steel
link make him the toast of the citadel
instead shortly after his vows were
spoken and his fingers treated he found
himself aboard the fat-bellied miraham
bound for the crag
he'd been forbidden from even speaking
of dragonglass
he felt bitterness at first betrayed and
abandoned by the old men who'd been
fathers to him as lord norbert had not
but one night aboard the vessel
sleepless from the squalling of the
captain's daughter's babe and
contemplating the vast blackness of the
sunset sea he'd puzzled out the reason
for his dismissal
though now a master of the citadel he
was still the son of lord norbert and
lord norbert had fought for the young
wolf his father had been pardoned but
forgiven is not forgotten with jon in
the hands of a westerling or a spicer
house vance would not dare break the
king's peace
in truth however the blind lord was near
death and his heir the prince of atranta
would relish jon's execution
his bitterness turned to utter
frustration at the pointlessness of his
own banishment
john the white raven cried again nipping
at a drop of john's blood upon the table
amory shook his head
you should not have taught it your name
i didn't john protested it arrived just
before you beware the raven warned
that got amory's attention he looked up
from the bandaging
do you suppose it's a message from the citadel
citadel
what perils could it be speaking of
john thought of the dragon queen but said
said
could it be the iron man
they harry far south of here feast fires
would have warned us if they ventured
into westerland waters or bainfort if
they came from the north bravo
bravo
what dangerous saffron muse the old maester
maester
i admit when i visited the ship there
were some unsavory sorts about brutish
sailors refugees from astapor three pale
carthene but they are all being kept in cragsport
cragsport
the mines
the mines
ah i see what you have done amory
chuckled a clever ruse castmere shall be
a hardship these first few years i know
but your fate could be much harder they
say the wall is in need of maesters you
could look into this matter of the ice
firsthand would that make you any
happier i promise you the bird is not
mimicking me
amory finished with the bandage a
competent rap
lord rolf wished to know whether you had
reviewed his plans for these frightening
minds of yours a note of accusation had
entered his voice
i did but he will not be happy i am
certain the northwest shaft will not drain
drain
john said rising to check his sample of
quicksilver in the corner of the turret
the liquid metal rested a tad lower in
the glass tube today
further proof that the mirror's thinkers
had the right of it
this again the maester of the crag
wrangled his brow
the air will hold the water down
nonsense nothing cannot hold down
something he will have you at that mine
day and night until it's dry you know
john sighed had amory supported his
claim that air had weight lord rolf
might have listened instead he made jon
look a fool
he knew he must speak with his lord
before this vain enterprise went any
further the young maester descended the
turret stair to seek out the lord of castmere
castmere
ralph spicer would be in either lord
gowan solar or seashell hall walking
through the castle corridors jon passed
a dozen arched windows each with an
arresting view of the sunset sea
the dusky waves were framed by dark
cliffs rising north into grey mist in
better times the arches held six marble
clamshells each now every third arch
held but one the window's ornate
keystones had all been replaced by
simple stones or bricks and many of
those looked ready to fall out the
maester touched his ring of copper
remembering archmaester paristan's
lessons the crag was ancient the seat of
house westerling dating back to the age
of heroes its lands were full of gold
and tin so the house had been wealthy
for thousands of years westerlings often
married the kings of the rock young
jane's namesake had been taken to wife
by maegor the cruel there were disputes
amongst historians as to when the mines
had been exhausted however with some
claiming that house westerling's decline
began hundreds of years ago regardless
the ruin of the crag was what remained
of the house's past glory along with
empty caves and barren tunnels
according to the songs the children of
the forest had lived in those lonely
caves before the westerlings drove them
out and uprooted their werewoods john
had never seen one of the white trees
not a living one at least
the andals had burned the ones in
atranta thousands of years ago but the
study of wherewood had always fascinated
jon for the old trees told old tales
at the citadel a slice of a great
weirwood trunk could be found in the
western garden brought south from beyond
the wall the piece measured 50 feet across
across
10 times wider than any tree john had
seen standing the archmaesters said it
had been more than
000 years old when it was cut down
perhaps it was the oldest thing that
ever lived the oldest thing that ever died
died
at some point every novice would try to
count the tree's rings each one
representing an ancient long forgotten
summer the wider the distance between
rings the longer the summer it was the
best record of the seasons in westeros
older than the writings of maesters more
ancient than the scribblings of septons
the weirwood's most important testimony
was the pattern of its rings
there was none
it was as if the gods cast the seasons
at random a riddle john thought thinking
of those deep dark eyes
i will find its answer
named for the mother of pearl tiles
lining both the walls and the vaulted
ceiling seashell hall had once been a
wonder as the years passed pieces fell
but were not replaced the seashells that
remained had become a starry indoor sky
still beautiful
but full of twinkling melancholy at the
head of the hall hung a faded tapestry
spotted with mold depicting jaehaerys
and vermi-thor's sojourn at the crag
for two centuries since no king had felt
the need to visit the castle until its
storming by the young wolf
six great tables in the shape of clams
filled the room
at the center most sat the lord and lady
westerling opposite lord spicer and the
captain of bravo sir duncan spicer
maester john lord rolf clapped his hands
together as jon entered his tone mocking
how fair your measurements i do hope
you're not so distracted that you have
forgotten about my minds
not a moon's turn past he was digging up
dirt and caves now he plays with ice and quicksilver
quicksilver
how can i convince a man who disdains
knowledge itself
john took a deep breath the quicksilver
relates to the minds my lord like the
water beneath the earth waters of
interest in the caves interrupted lord
gowan searching for dragonglass
arrowheads my grandfather gifted me with
one he found in his youth i always
wondered which dragon's breath forged
the thing
jon suppressed a wince at the ignorant
intrusion the lord of the crag had
meandered from the point at hand as oft
he did but jon was obliged to follow his lead
lead
i was seeing what medals the early
westerlings once mined my lord he said
most were copper and tin as might be
expected but in one of the early caves
the first westerlings dug iron ore iron
iron
gowen scratched his beard
so long ago are you certain
makes you wonder where the ironborn got
their name anyway
i am less concerned with yesterday's
iron man as i am with today's put in
lady sybil lord gowan's wife was an
imposing woman sly and shrewd she would
have had the makings of a maester had
she been born a man my cousin's return
was an impressive feat with their long
ships swarming the seas but we cannot
take such risks with them in the future
how did it come to be that bravo was so
fortunate inquired john of her captain
taking his ladies hint
let the man sing his success to another
set of ears
once we approached the arbor we avoided
the straits and kept well out of sight
of land
said sir duncan the cousin of lord ralph
and lady sybil looked more pirate than
night with his tanned weathered face he
had spent much of his life sailing
amongst the ports of the free cities and
even farther east we were alerted to the
danger when we took on fresh water in
tall trees town some ironborn had moored
there after weathering storms they
boasted that their new king would give
them old town the arbor and all of
westeros after his brother returned with
the queen and her dragons
dragons asked lord gowan surely that was
a shape i saw them with my own eyes in
qarth before we passed into the jade sea
said the captain grimly they were little
things as was their mother daenerys
targaryen the dragons must have grown
though by the time we returned to the
summer sea she had crowned herself queen
of marine i took on some astopory
passengers on new gis
they spoke of burnings and the slaying
of children as young as twelve
some sailors told other tales about the
queen and horses
but those are best left unsaid in my
lady's presence
it seemed little and less would be said
at this meeting on the properties of
aaron water either
john would not convince his lord of
anything here and now he knew
when i am summoned back to old town it
will make no matter what rolf spicer thinks
thinks
old town
john thought uneasily of the white raven
and its warnings
is the citadel in danger from the iron
men and this dragon queen both however
she may have taken marine i bit her joy
of it said lady sybil the city lies a
world away
the ironborn are close in vexing but
raven's wings bring us good tidings lord
terence kenning seeks the honor of our
elena's hand
we have accepted the kennings of harlaw
and the kennings of case remain close
despite their difference in liege lords
or liege kings as it may be
lord terence assures us that he can keep
the crag free from ironborn raids as he
has kept his own seat
john doubted that lord kenning truly
wished to marry the younger westerling
daughter the old lord of case had
shunned marriage for three decades and
treated his nephew as his heir even
bestowing upon him the family horn
no the betrothal wreaked of lions
though he wondered why elena was to be
wed and not the elder daughter jane
the crags not the only thing needs
protection said sir duncan uncertainly
the guild demanded that we provide safe
passage across the sunset sea to their
trading galleys i accepted the term in
exchange for their prices on saffron
cinnamon and cloves at the time it was a bargain
bargain now
now
lord gowan blinked at his good cousin
and how are we to provide such
protection from the crow's eye lord
malister told the stories of that one he
did gowan had spent a year as a prisoner
at seaguard though he'd been freed from
the dungeon when he became the father of
a queen
after that he'd seemingly endured
dinners with jason malister dwelling
endlessly on his house's ancient feud
with the iron kings their grievous
crimes his thirst for vengeance
lord rolf waved his hand dismissively we
are speaking of problems well beyond the
horizon from what i hear the red wines
will deal with the iron man in good time
and if they don't the soil of the iron
islands will still be thin their summers
cool their autumns wet lady sibyl hinted
they will need to trade their plunder
for grain who better than us and our new
kennen kin then we could set the safe
passage of these galleys from qarth as
one of our terms and we would have the
only reliable eastern trade along the coast
coast
why would the iron men trade for what
they can take by force john wondered but
kept his own council our grandfather was
a member of the ancient guild of spicers
added lord rolf turning back to the
captain whatever should arise i am sure
our karthian friends will remain amiable
sir duncan looked dubious
the guild remains amiable just as long
as it puts coin in their pockets
goldtown and old town demand steep
duties it's true and craigstown could
provide a friendlier port to trade for
gold and seek riches from beyond the
wall but only if karthian ships can sail
safe waters getting here
beyond the wall scoffed lord gowan what
do they mean to trade snow
skins john thought slaves
slaves
when daenerys freed the chattel of
slaver's bay she made the slave cities
look elsewhere for their labor and the
route to the frozen shore was free of
the bravosi who might seize slavers in
the narrow sea
what do you call a line of free folk
chained in a carthene coughlin our
course is set lady sybil decided
ignoring her husband's question we have
minds to drain docks to expand and a
wedding to plan in a moon's turn we ride
the case
save you maester john lord rolf added
with a derisive smile you will travel
south with us only as far as castamere
your real work begins then
my real work must be finished by then
john resolved thinking of his last
unwelcome journey the night before the
miraham set sail the novices and
acolytes had sent john off with drinks
at the quill and tankard milander was
well in his cups and mourning his father
still unable to appreciate his new freedom
freedom
haughty armin and husky robert fervently
debated something neither of them understood
understood
pate ever gullible chatted with the
mummer girl who claimed she still had
her maidenhead even lazy leah was there
staring at jon from across the room with
a sneer
his bandaged hands could barely hold the
third tankard of cider alaris bought him
here you are maesterjohn he said
sly teasing beneath the deference in his address
address
the gods are cruel john thought gazing
at the slow-eyed sphinx
would he ever see those eyes again perhaps
perhaps
john said his words as clumsy as his hands
hands
you will be sent to the westerlands two
two
when your chain is forged
the acolyte already had two links was on
the verge of his third within three
years surely the man would make a
maester but aleras only smiled softly i
am not here in old town to try my
learning against the archmaester's
knowledge or to try my longbow against
melander's apples the smile became a grin
grin
from here
i will set my own trial
john did not understand but something in
the way alera spoke told john his words
were true
he's always right
no one would pack a laras off on a ship
to the westerlands or anywhere else
he would remain at the citadel until he
had completed his purpose
whatever that purpose was
john's heart sank but he tried to return
the acolyte's kind look
your trial
alera sipped his sweet wine a riddle for you
you
suppose the animals of the world were to
choose themselves a leader a king of beasts
beasts
how to decide which is fit to rule the
sheep would set a test to see who could
produce the most wool
the snakes attest to make the strongest venom
venom
he took another sip
the lions would test sharp claws and
teeth and hawks the ability to fly
each would choose a test according to
their own powers
so tell me mr john how can they all
settle on a king
john pondered the question as he emptied
his tankard but he came to no good answer
answer
was he speaking of a sphynx take a bit
of this and a bit of that he guessed
alaros only smirked
when they rose jon had to rest his
bandaged hand on the acolyte's shoulder
so as not to fall
the men crossed the old plank bridge
into the mists of night
they walked a long time their final
night together through that maze of a city
city
through its wines and alleys and crook
back streets they passed through the
blue gates and over the muddy stone of
the flower bazaar
when they finally stopped they were in a
narrow back street cloaked in shadow
alairas kissed him now for the second
time though now passion took the place
of tenderness
jon kissed back and the alley spun
around them the sphinx sucked the lobe
of his ear bit at his neck his hand
slipped under john's new robe oh
oh
was all he could say his bandaged hand
fumbled at aleros's cloak the
cobblestones were melting away beneath
his feet then
he melted with them
john searched for aleros in the morning
but he was nowhere to be found
feeling numb he boarded his ship for the
crag then watched the domes and towers
of the citadel grow smaller as he sailed
off into the distance
since then he'd dreamed of nothing but
the sphinx
when lord rolf dismissed him from
seashell hall john wandered back across
the castle and up to the turret amory
had brought a large cage down from the
rookery for the white raven which slept
quietly inside
the old maester had also tidied up
john's papers leaving the room feeling empty
empty lonely
lonely
john opened the window letting the cold in
in
the clouds breaking over the western sea
let the sunset cast the room in a ruddy glow
glow
the young maester sat until the sun fell
behind the horizon
the room darkened
solve the seasons john
solve them or watch them play across
this sky
this land
till your last winter
in the gloom the young maester found
amery's lens tube its tripod standing in
the corner the stars would be visible
tonight the moon full
he gathered his star charts and figures
an inkpot and quill
his arms full
he walked up the stairs
passing through the dim rookery as he
climbed the tower
john could just make out the black wings
within the air along the battlements was
more than bracing but it was the best
place to view the night sky
jon set the tube on the tripod and
directed it towards the glowing shroud
in the distance
then he waited
watching for a gap in the clouds
the maester touched his ring of bronze
remembering archmaester valen's lessons
when the moon was full you could see on
its face both lyman's crater and the
left-hand crater a line between the two
blemishes was a horizon of sorts
almost but not quite parallel to the
earth the extent of that error varied
through the mirish lens john could see
the difference
lymon was a quarter degree raised from
when he'd first arrived at the crag
vinegar valen called the curiosity the wobble
wobble
the archmaesters couldn't agree on what
exactly was wobbling most took it to be
the moon that shook though there were
some who held that it was the earth that
tottered instead
the septons were want to blame the gaze
of man made crooked by a sin
sean had spent countless hours measuring
the wobble against the movement of the
seven wanderers and the rings of the
great tree
he'd even considered the coming of the
comet and the doom of valyria
there was no pattern
if that's true
then i'm doomed
a life of messages and medicines
of water that never drains
a whole life here
alone he stepped back from the tube and
looked up at the stars with naked eyes
thinking of all he did not know
he thought of lemons and a great river
flowing into itself
of iron older than writing
dragonglass forged beneath the earth and
pushed somehow to its surface
he thought of a weirwood sapling growing
to a hulking tree over thousands of
years a wall unchanged beside it seasons
turning and turning above
he felt the weight of the air upon his
head the wobble of the earth beneath his
feet the touch of a kiss upon his lips
the cold crept into his bones
shivering beneath the moon and stars
an idea came to him
john's eyes widened leaving the lens
tube on its tripod he gathered up his
papers and raced down the stairs a
hundred black wings flapped in fury as
the maester pounded through the rookery
khan they screamed corn corn corn in the
turret john lit a candle took a quill in
ink and rolled out fresh parchment
the words flowed from his fingers like
blood upon dragonglass
when he had finished he looked back over
his words marveling at them
but which archmaester would deign to
consider his notion theobald
theobald noren
noren
willifer he rolled up the letter and
sealed it with a glob of the crag's
sand-colored wax mixed into the wax was
real sand which sparkled in the candlelight
candlelight
without he wrote a name
archmaester marwin
they might well send me to the wall john
thought grinning foolishly
the shadow tower was better than
castamere though there was hope at the
wall a chance to uncover the truth of
the world perhaps he would see a weirwood
weirwood
first the wall
then home
maester john climbed back to the rookery
attached his letter to an old town raven
stroked its feathers for a moment and
unleashed it into the sky he envied the
bird as it flew out of sight
afterward he carefully returned maester
amery's lens tube and tripod put away
the ink and wax and organized his papers
until the turret was as orderly as he
had found it
as he closed the window he looked out to
where the moon now lay in the sky
it was the hour of ghosts not too late
to find lord rolf and tell him of what
he discovered whether his lord would
believe him or not he could not sleep
with such a secret
beware the white raven called awake again
again
on the morrow he would see what other
messages the bird had for him
john descended the stair and crossed the
castle once again
this time heading for lordgowan's solar
it was the most pleasant room in the
crag having been maintained as the rest
of the castle decayed around it
during gowan's imprisonment at seaguard
lord rolf had served as castellan and
spent his evenings here reading by the
light of fire when the lord of the crag
returned he felt it rude to deprive his
good brother of the room's luxury
knowing the cold ruin of castamere
awaited him soon enough the lords and
lady would be there john knew
oddly there was no guard outside
something was wrong beware
suddenly cautious the maester approached
the door eased it open
he peered into the solar heart pounding no
no
no no no
the archmaester touched his ring of
silver remembering archmaester ibros's
lessons maester john dropped to the
ground and pressed his ear to lord
rolf's breast
no heartbeat
three fallen bodies and not a drop of blood
blood
they have no wounds
it was poison he was certain but witch
poison he needed to act with all haste
if he was to serve them an antidote his
eyes raced around the room he saw no cup
for drink no plate for food not
nightshade not greycap not tears of lice
ralph spicer's skin was a mottled blue
green his mouth clear of foam not the
strangler not wolfsbane not demon's dance
dance
that left only
manticore venom
the toxin killed the instant it reached
the heart john sat up defeated
lord ralph was dead
lord and lady westerling as well
john made the call for the guards then
hesitated two dead lords in advance
they will suspect me neither he nor
amory kept any manticore venom but could
the guards be sure of that
what if the old man didn't recognize the poison
poison
even if he kept his freedom jon's lord
had died he remembered the sniggers in
old town when the grand maester failed
to save king joffrey it had been an
impossible task but pycelle was labeled
senile regardless
john thought of his work of the letter
he had loosed to old town the conclave
will dismiss it all of it the desperate
ravings of a panicked boy he had to
explain to them he had to
then it dawned on him
the lord of castmere's dead and the lord
of the crag too
the lands and incomes of both would fall to
to ralem
ralem
a boy a boy who already had a maester
there was no more need of john in the
westerlands disgraced though he may be
john would return to old town
he was going home
john was thinking of aleros when he felt
the sting at his ankle he looked behind
him and saw something green and
glittering scurry across the floor
there behind the door stood a cloaked man
man
pale of skin
i am so sorry
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