Chapter 5 – Whispers of the North
Benjen rode steadily through the whispering woods, the child wrapped safely against his chest, tucked beneath his thick fur cloak. The baby slept soundly, its tiny face hidden beneath folds of linen. Behind him, the grey mother padded silently, her cub bounding clumsily through the snow beside her. The pup was small, curious, tripping over his own paws, but determined to stay close.
Snowflakes drifted from the sky in lazy spirals. The North was quiet, except for the muffled steps of hooves in the snow and the soft rustle of pine branches overhead. They were a strange company—man, horse, wolves, and child—but there was a rhythm to their movement now, a quiet unity.
When they paused near a rocky outcrop to rest and water the horse, Benjen dismounted and gently laid the baby down atop a soft fur he kept in his pack. The child stirred, blinking up at the sky with bright green eyes. Benjen watched, curious. The baby's gaze followed a flake as it drifted past, and when he reached a finger toward it, he let out a soft laugh—light, warm, unburdened.
Benjen knelt beside him, gloved fingers brushing the child's tiny hand. The pup yipped and bounced over, tail wagging, and licked at the baby's cheek. The child squealed in delight, reaching for the wolf cub's ears. Benjen smiled despite himself.
He hadn't smiled much in years.
The grey mother watched from a short distance. Slowly, Benjen extended a hand toward her, palm open. She tensed but did not growl. Inches away, his hand hovered above her head—then gently touched her thick fur. She didn't move. She accepted him.
That night, they camped beneath a thick pine, snow drifted high around their shelter. Benjen lit a small fire and sat with the child in his arms, the wolves curled at his side. The mother pressed against his back, sharing her warmth. The cub curled near the baby, tail wrapped tight.
Benjen tore small pieces of dried meat, chewing and softening them before gently offering them to the baby, hoping it would be enough. He also warmed water and mixed it with bits of root he'd learned were safe, hoping it would fill the child's tiny belly. Somehow, it seemed to work. The boy fed, then slept again.
As the fire burned low, Benjen looked up at the stars. He thought of the Wall—cold, dark, merciless. A place for criminals, rapists, murderers. That was who the Night's Watch was now, mostly. The Wall was no place for a child.
What would they say when he returned with a baby in his arms?
He could already hear the questions. Feel the suspicion. The disapproval. A child—found beyond the Wall? A wolf following him like a guardian?
They would never understand. They might try to take the child. Worse—they might see it as a threat.
Benjen clenched his jaw. He would protect the boy. That much was certain.
He looked down at the sleeping child, then to the wolves resting beside him.
He thought of a name—he needed to give the boy a name.
A soft breeze passed through the trees. One word came to mind, one that felt right. A whisper in the wind, soft and ancient.
Kael.
The child stirred, as if hearing it in a dream.
Benjen rested back against the wolf's flank and closed his eyes.
Tomorrow, they would reach the Wall.
He didn't know what would happen then.
But whatever it was—
He would meet it.