Winter's (GOT) Nothing on Me #91

Finishing his meticulous inspection of the saddle, Gale adjusted his hood and began securing his belongings to the horse's back. He readied himself to mount the steed and set off on his journey, but the deliberate sound of footsteps interrupted his preparations.

"Maester Aemon... how may I assist you?" Gale greeted the elderly maester as he turned to face him, noting the sagacity etched into the aged features.

"It wasn't long ago that I pondered whether it's fair to burden you with so much," the old maester remarked, coming to a halt in front of Gale. "Now, I see I was right to wonder... I regret that it's come to this," he added with a tone of regret laced in his words.

Gale offered a small smile and shook his head in response. "The consideration means more than you know," he acknowledged. "This endeavor might be more than I bargained for, but I'll do what needs to be done," he added firmly.

Maester Aemon sighed, voicing his reservations. "I don't condone your plan... but your determination is commendable," he admitted. "If you believe this is your path, I won't impede you, nor shall I permit anyone else to hinder you," he assured, hinting at potential opposition.

Benjen had shown intentions of obstructing Gale's departure, prompting the Lord Commander to intervene after counsel from Maester Aemon. It was a testament to the maester's influence that Benjen relented in his attempt to thwart Gale's departure.

"Just don't lose sight of yourself or what's truly important, dear boy," the old Maester advised with a tone of concern etched in his words.

"Well, I'd prefer to still recognize myself in the mirror when all is said and done," Gale replied with a light chuckle, though his tone carried a hint of somberness. "It's been a challenge of late... but I'll find my way through," he added, his determination shining through the uncertainty.

With a simple nod of acknowledgment, Gale bid his farewell to Maester Aemon, expressing his gratitude for the counsel and support offered. He patted his horse affectionately before mounting it, adjusting his cloak as he prepared to depart from Castle Black.

As he rode out of the gates, Gale glanced back at the fortress that had been his home and refuge. A swirl of emotions flooded his thoughts—determination mingled with uncertainty, a sense of purpose entangled with the weight of responsibility.

The winds whispered tales of the North as Gale set forth, the landscape stretching before him with an air of solemnity. His journey ahead was riddled with unknowns, but his resolve remained unshaken. 

With a last lingering look at Castle Black fading into the horizon, Gale pushed forward, his quest for what he deemed necessary driving him onward into the vast expanse of the unknown.

Finishing my meal, I heaved a contented sigh, relishing a proper repast after two days of relentless travel. Since my departure from Castle Black, I had remained steadfast on the King's Road, the path leading me southward. However, the allure of the Queen's Crown proved too tempting to resist, prompting a brief detour from my journey. 

Recollections from books had painted a picturesque scene of the place, and I was not disappointed by reality. The lone tower overlooking the serene lake, encircled by the shimmering waters and sparse greenery, held a magical allure that captivated my senses.

Despite my fascination, I refrained from lingering too long, wary of wasting precious time. Resuming my course along the King's Road, I ventured onward until I reached the edges of the Wolfswood. 

At this point, I veered eastward, diverting through the forest's depths to navigate my way toward Last Hearth, the formidable seat of House Umber.

Presently, I found myself within an inn situated just beyond the forest's edge, a resting place along the well-trodden path leading to Last Hearth. The atmosphere inside the inn carried the typical warmth and chatter of travelers seeking respite from their journeys. 

It offered a brief sanctuary amidst the ongoing pursuit of my destination. More importantly, it was a place where I could gather information to fulfill my mission. I couldn't simply barge into Last Hearth and kill anyone in my path, hoping Jon Umber was one of them. 

Reaching into my pocket, I approached the innkeeper with a courteous nod. "Thank you for the meal... it was excellent," I expressed my gratitude while retrieving several gold coins and placing them on the worn wooden counter. 

The innkeeper's confusion was palpable as my payment far exceeded the worth of the simple meal and drink he had served me.

I maintained my silence, watching him eye the coins until his hand reached out to collect them. Swiftly, I seized his arm gently, drawing his attention back to me. 

"I'm in search of Jon Umber. Would you happen to know where I might find him?" I inquired, locking eyes with the innkeeper, seeking any shred of information.

Recognition dawned on the innkeeper's face, and he let out a chuckle at my inquiry. "Which Jon Umber do you seek? The Smalljon? Or the Greatjon?" he queried, amusement lacing his words.

Realization struck me, recalling that there were indeed two figures named Umber Jon. "Ah, yes... the two of them," I acknowledged, remembering the distinction between father and son. "I'm looking for the younger one," I clarified. 

"The young lord is in Last Hearth right now, though he often hunts deer in the Wolfswood," the innkeeper said. "He frequents this inn as well. If you linger here long enough, you might just cross paths with him," he offered, pointing to the possibility of encountering the sought-after Umber during my stay.

I acknowledged the innkeeper with a nod, releasing his arm, prompting him to swiftly gather the gold coins and tuck them into his bulging coin purse. My immediate business here had reached its conclusion, and I prepared to depart. 

Waiting idly for my target was not an option, especially with Rayder's and King Robert's imminent arrival at Winterfell. Though I found the prospect distasteful, I knew I had to seek Jon at Last Hearth, despite the inherent risks involved.

As I took several steps toward the exit, a voice pierced the air, causing me to halt in my tracks. "What business have you got with Jon?" The voice seemed slurred, emanating from a man clearly inebriated, leaning heavily on a nearby table with an empty ale cup gripped tightly in his hand. T

turning to glance at the speaker, I noticed his disheveled appearance, suggesting the effects of excessive drinking.

Disregarding the drunken man, I resumed my stride. However, before I could proceed, a firm hand clutched my shoulder, halting my movement. 

The man's voice sliced through the air once more, demanding an answer. "I asked you a question, boy!" His tone was confrontational, hinting at escalating tension.

Letting out an inward sigh, I prepared myself to handle the situation. I pivoted, ready to address the drunkard and potentially resolve the interruption swiftly.

As the man's form became distinct in my vision, I involuntarily halted my movements, realizing he loomed over me like none I had ever encountered. He stood there, a towering figure with white, unkempt short hair and a scruffy beard, easily surpassing seven feet in height (213 cm). 

His broad shoulders and robust physique betrayed a strength that age hadn't diminished. Wrapped in furs, he bore four chains crossing his torso, converging in an X-shape on a metallic ring at his midsection.

"Greatjon Bloody Umber..." I muttered under my breath, a recognition that triggered an involuntary twitch in my eyes and an urge to vent frustration through some solid object.

"Well, aren't you observant, lad?" Greatjon quipped with a smirk, acknowledging my recognition. His tone carried an underlying warning as he leaned in. 

"Now, spill what you're after... a father tends to get jumpy when a cloaked stranger starts asking about his son..." His narrowed gaze fixed on the cloth-wrapped iceblade slung over my back. "Especially one carrying such a sizable sword..." he added, the implication of the massive weapon not lost on him.