Two days after returning to the village Nikolas personally led nearly sixty men from Wisteria Village marching toward North Mountain along the exact route he had agreed upon with the wildling chieftain Jabi.
To ensure the warriors would still have strength left for the real fighting the pace was deliberately slow.
It was not until dusk on the second day after setting out that they reached the cheerful stream at the foot of North Mountain.
After ordering the men to make camp on the spot Nikolas dismounted went to the stream bank removed his helmet and thoroughly splashed his face with the cold clear water.
He drank several deep gulps then exclaimed with satisfaction:
"That feels good!
Jon—don't you want to wash up too?"
Beside him a young man wearing the ancestral armor of House Solag and riding a horse disguised as a captain of the Winterfell household guard was Ethan's second student—Jon Snow.
Jon declined politely:
"No thank you.
My teacher said that during a march stream and river water must never be drunk raw—it has to be boiled first."
Nikolas nodded and did not press the matter further.
Wiping the water from his face with his sleeve he watched the warriors pitching tents and lighting campfires then said worriedly:
"Will your teacher's plan really work?"
Jon answered honestly:
"I don't know.
I asked my teacher and he said that if the plan fails he will personally lead the assault on the keep."
This had also been Ethan's original fallback position when he arranged for Nikolas to lead this column into the mountains.
That day he had discussed the matter at length with Nikolas and Roland.
They decided Nikolas would attempt to lure the enemy out while Ethan and Roland remained in the village waiting for the wildlings to walk into their trap.
The soldiers Nikolas brought were his staunchest supporters in the village plus a number of clear-headed men who understood the principle that "when the nest is overturned no egg remains intact."
Of course Roland had played a major role in rallying these men.
If Nikolas's attempt to draw the wildlings out failed these sixty-odd fighters would immediately become the main assault force against the keep.
Once the Silver Hand arrived from the village to reinforce them they would launch the attack without delay.
If the wildlings neither stayed in their camp nor launched a raid on Wisteria Village that would actually be the best possible outcome.
As long as Ethan and his brothers completely destroyed the abandoned keep the wildlings would have no secure base nearby and Wisteria Village would naturally cease to be their primary target for harassment.
As night fell to guard against a possible wildling attack Nikolas—who had prepared for every contingency—ordered his warriors to rest fully armed and armored throughout the night.
After a quiet night as they prepared to break camp the next morning a long mournful howl echoed from the distant forest.
"That's Ghost" Jon immediately told Nikolas.
"I instructed him to signal if he saw a large group of wildlings moving through the woods."
Nikolas hesitated.
"Is your direwolf reliable?"
"I've heard of lying men—but never a lying wolf."
Clearly Jon had complete faith in his direwolf's ability to understand and carry out commands.
Nikolas then ordered the militia who were already preparing to continue the advance toward North Mountain:
"Attention everyone—about face!
We return to the village—now!"
Meanwhile deep in the forest where the foothills of North Mountain met the Wolfswood the wildling chieftain Jabi and his ally Gould marched side by side.
Hearing the distant wolf howl Gould asked in surprise:
"Are there direwolves south of the Wall too?"
Jabi—the black-haired leader Nikolas had met in the keep hall—shrugged dismissively.
"Who knows?
If we can cross from the north direwolves can too.
Let's hope it's a good omen."
With that he shouted back to the long column behind him:
"Move faster!
We must reach the outskirts of Wisteria Village before dark!"
In the shadowed woods more than fifty wildlings followed—men carrying great axes and wooden shields women wielding short spears—all lean experienced raiders.
Farther away in Wisteria Village Ethan lay motionless on the roof of the Solag keep covered by a brown-and-white cowhide intently watching the northern mountains.
By now the village's elderly women and children had already been moved into cellars for safety.
In the houses lining the main road villagers had gathered all fragile and valuable items.
Every able-bodied man willing to fight had taken up weapons and now waited silently for battle to begin.
As dusk deepened Kevin fully armored in his "Light's Servant" gear climbed onto the roof and handed his teacher a wineskin.
"Teacher—this is freshly warmed wine.
Drink it while it's hot to warm yourself."
Ethan accepted the skin took several deep swallows feeling the warmth spread through his chest then asked:
"Is everything ready below?"
Kevin replied:
"Yes everything is prepared.
Besides our own men more than twenty villagers volunteered to fight.
Uncle Roland has placed them in reserve behind us."
Ethan nodded.
"Good.
When you go back tell Roland to organize the volunteers to block every possible escape route the wildlings might take.
That should be sufficient.
During the battle make sure those brave villagers do not stand in front of our brothers—we don't want to accidentally wound them.
Also the Silver Hand and the villagers have never drilled together so remind Conrad to hold formation firmly.
We cannot let the villagers' chaotic attacks disrupt our rhythm."
"Understood Teacher."
Kevin turned and left the roof only to climb back up moments later.
"How about I take over watch for a while?"
Ethan waved him off impatiently.
"Instead of wasting time here with me why don't you go below and help check the brothers' equipment one more time?"
During the past few days in Wisteria Village besides daily training Ethan had also instructed Lennar and Jon to collect leather throughout the village and hire women to make protective gear for the unarmored men.
The garrison commander of Wisteria Village held a special hunting license for North Mountain so animal hides were plentiful and inexpensive.
Ethan spent less than two gold dragons to obtain enough material to equip every warrior in the Silver Hand.
Because of the wildling threat village women no longer dared work in the fields—all farm labor fell to the men.
The men's usual side occupations had been neglected causing considerable hardship.
Therefore when Ethan placed an order for twenty sets of armor through Roland the village women responded enthusiastically and completed the work quickly and well.
In less than ten days every Silver Hand warrior had traded ragged fur cloaks for new—albeit rough but reliable—leather armor.
After Kevin left Ethan lay alone on the roof sipping the sweet-sour new barley wine gazing at the snow-capped peaks and meadows bathed in the red glow of sunset his heart filled with tension.
Would the plan really unfold as smoothly as he had calculated?
Would the wildlings dare attack the village?
Could Nikolas return in time to cut off any fleeing raiders?
After nearly a month of training could the Silver Hand warriors truly withstand this first real test of blood and iron?
These questions circled endlessly in Ethan's mind yet found no answer.
War had flipped him into the air like a tossed coin.
Only when he landed would he know whether he had fallen face-down or come up triumphant.
Thinking this Ethan unconsciously reached for the potion bottle of heart tree sap at his belt and thought gratefully:
"Thank goodness… thank goodness I still have my cheat."
As the sun sank behind the western mountains its afterglow giving way to the early-rising moon a familiar low growl drifted from the forest at the northern foothills—Bell the bear cub's agreed signal with Eddie who was observing from a high vantage point in the woods.
Hearing it Ethan immediately tugged the rope beside him.
Moments later a Silver Hand warrior named Kili appeared at the foot of the keep and called in a deliberately hushed voice:
"Captain—what is it?"
"Notify everyone—prepare for battle!"
At that same moment three hundred meters northwest of the village in the dense forest the wildling raiding party—having marched all day—was resting and regaining strength under the direction of their two leaders.
"Father—I heard a bear roaring.
Should we send men to kill it?"
"Handle important business first.
Don't stir up trouble now.
Go tell everyone to rest a little longer—no fires and no loud talking."
Gould watching Raman walk away sighed:
"You have a fine son."
Jabi gave a restrained smile.
"After tonight you can have many sons.
One of them is bound to please you."
Gould bared his teeth in a cruel grin scratched his crotch gripped his longsword tighter and rasped:
"My great-axe is itching for blood!"
After a while noticing the village lights begin to appear Jabi turned to the raiders still resting behind him and ordered:
"Now—drink the water in your skins follow me and make no sound."
Inside Solag Keep aided by moonlight Ethan watched several figures emerge from the forest.
Behind them more shadows followed.
Ethan counted—the numbers were roughly double Eddie's earlier scout report.
A flicker of unease passed through him.
Could they handle so many?
But now was the moment for action.
He slid down from the roof and ordered the two soldiers waiting in the courtyard:
"Return to your units—prepare for battle!
Inform your captains there are more enemies than expected.
Tell them not to worry—proceed exactly according to plan."
"Yes Captain!"
The two men jogged to their positions.
Ethan donned his helmet slipped into the shadows of the keep hall and prepared to give the charging wildlings a very unpleasant surprise.
The raiders moved silently across the fields crouching low and hugging the walls of the outermost houses.
Jabi crept to the village gate gently knocked.
After a moment there was a soft click.
The gate swung open.
A weasel-faced youth grinned when he saw Jabi.
"You're the guests Nik mentioned?
Follow me!"
The youth turned and ran inside—only to be struck down from behind by Jabi's axe and collapse in the dirt.
"Traitorous cur!"
Jabi spat on the body then raised his arm and roared:
"Brothers—this village is ours!
Charge!"
The eager raiders surged past him into the village.
Jabi himself together with his trusted lieutenants and Gould made straight for the garrison commander's keep.
An experienced raider he knew roadside loot was cheap—the real treasure lay inside the commander's fortified residence.
But the moment they reached the gate it slowly opened revealing a disciplined wall of soldiers.
At the front stood two full-armored shield-bearers behind them three ranks of spearmen and a small but sturdy tree-like device with outstretched branches.
Looking into the cold steady eyes of the shield-bearers Jabi's heart sank.
This was a trap.
But so what?
If the prey was fat enough even the strongest trap could be broken.
"Brothers—kill these kneeling cowards!"
Emboldened by his shout the warriors behind him rushed forward.
The lead wildling raised his axe aiming to smash through by sheer force—but a swaying branch from the strange tree raked across his eye.
Before he could even raise a hand to clear it a sharp pain exploded in his chest.
When his eyes opened again all he saw was a blood-slick spearhead being withdrawn from his body.
The men behind him fared no better—cut down by sweeping thrusts in quick succession.
Occasionally a brave wildling tried to close through the chaos but could not penetrate the defense of the two heavily armored shieldmen.
Jabi did not rush to the front line himself.
As chieftain he preferred to direct from the rear.
As for Gould—who loved to lead charges—he now lay motionless on the ground already dead.
After several men had fallen Jabi studied the enemy formation and bellowed:
"Fools—flank them!
Break in from the sides!"
He seized a nearby warrior and shoved him toward the formation's edge.
Jabi reasoned that if the enemy wanted to kill this man their spear points would have to turn—creating an opening for him to rush into close combat.
Once he cut down the two armored men in front the spearmen behind would be easy prey.
Unfortunately reality did not cooperate.
When his man attacked from the flank the spearmen did not shift.
Instead another warrior wielding a pitchfork leaped out from behind the line blocked the attacker's weapon and an archer standing behind loosed an arrow into the wildling's face.
The pitchfork-man then calmly finished the fallen raider.
The keep gate was not wide.
Flanking from the rear was no simple task.
Looking at the growing pile of bodies Jabi realized he probably could not break the trap head-on.
He turned intending to rally the looters and overwhelm with sheer numbers.
But he found an identical formation now blocking the village gate they had entered through.
"Free folk—we would rather die than kneel to southern curs!"
Jabi's shout instantly rekindled the fading morale of his raiders.
At that moment an arrow pierced his throat.
Ethan slowly lowered his longbow and shouted in a voice that carried across the entire village:
"Silver Hand—repeat after me!
Drop your weapons and kneel!
Those who surrender will not be killed!"
"Drop your weapons and kneel!
Those who surrender will not be killed!"
"Drop your weapons and kneel!
Those who surrender will not be killed!"
From scattered echoes to perfect unison the Silver Hand warriors' voices soon rang out across the small village.
By now both wildling leaders lay dead.
Only about twenty survivors remained standing among the corpses—neither brave enough nor greedy enough to keep fighting.
Seeing the Silver Hand halt its advance and offer quarter the wildlings—long accustomed to the law of the strong—readily threw down their weapons and knelt.
The Silver Hand formation did not break.
Under Roland's direction the surviving wildlings were led one by one to the village square and securely bound with rope.
Seeing the situation secured Ethan finally gave the order to stand down:
"Collect all weapons and spoils!"
Throughout the entire engagement Ethan had fired only a single arrow.
He was quite satisfied with the warriors' calm disciplined performance.
He even felt a touch of regret that the Holy Light he had prepared for so long had gone unused.
Kevin removed his helmet.
"Teacher—what should we do with these prisoners?
Kill them all?"
Ethan raised an eyebrow.
"Why would you think that?"
"Well… I thought you were just lying to them to make them surrender."
Ethan sighed inwardly.
It seemed his image in his students' eyes had taken a serious hit.
He shook his head.
"Not yet.
I'll interrogate them later.
Find those with fresh blood on their hands and execute them.
As for the rest—Kevin remember: people are a resource too.
We don't waste resources."
At that moment the men Nikolas had led into the mountains returned—but the battle was already over.
All they could do now was help clean up the dead.
Looking at the blood-streaked spears of the Silver Hand warriors Nikolas sighed:
"Captain Ethan—your men's fighting ability is truly formidable."
Ethan shook his head.
"These wildlings were only armed civilians.
You'll never know whether soldiers are truly qualified until they step onto a real battlefield."
Just then a commotion broke out behind him.
A squad rushed toward Ethan shouting:
"Captain!
Thorn has been stabbed in the chest!
Captain Conrad sent me to find you!"
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