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Chapter 163: The Stone Giant
🕑 Added 2025-02-21 12:42:36 +0000 UTCAfter saving the Thenns and the giants from the White Walkers, Lynd chose to stay. He joined Mance Rayder and the others, traveling with the Thenns to their refuge—a hidden valley deep in the Frostfangs, where dozens of tribes had gathered after fleeing from elsewhere.
Along the way, they encountered other wildling tribes. Some joined their ranks and traveled with them to the Hidden Valley Refuge, while others chose to head east to Hardhome, where it was rumored that ships could take them around the Wall to the south. However, Mance Rayder warned the leaders of those tribes that the ships at Hardhome would not take them south of the Wall but rather to the slave markets across the Narrow Sea.
The leaders of those tribes did not believe Mance Rayder’s words. Even though Grenn, the Thenns' leader, repeatedly assured them that Mance Rayder and the others were good Crows, they still refused to trust anything the Crows said.
During this time, Lynd devoted himself to learning the ancient language from Grenn, as it would help him communicate with the giants more easily. Compared to other complex languages, the ancient language was much simpler—mostly consisting of single-syllable words representing concrete meanings, with little to no complicated grammar.
In just two days, Lynd had learned everything Grenn knew of the Old Tongue and could communicate fluently with the giants.
The giants, who regarded Lynd as a god and had pledged to serve him, belonged to an ancient tribe known as the Stone Men. They had once lived in the White Waste, where they had built a giant city.
However, in the distant past, their city had been destroyed by the Ice Dragons. The survivors were then besieged by the White Walkers, forcing them to migrate south. Thousands of years had passed since then, and now only 26 of their kind remained. To distinguish them from the Furry Giants Beyond the Wall, the wildling tribes referred to them as the Stone Giants.
The leader of the Stone Giants was called Mag, though this was a simplified name. The true names of the Stone Giants were long, consisting of more than ten words. However, after they swore allegiance to Lynd, whom they saw as a deity, they added the title “Gowa” before their names. For example, Mag became "Gowa Mag," which meant “God Mag.”
Lynd was particularly interested in the history of the Stone Giants, especially the stories about the White Waste and the Ice Dragons, so he spoke with Mag often during their journey.
Unfortunately, Mag had been born after her people had moved beyond the Wall and had never seen the White Desert herself. She only knew bits and pieces of its history from her ancestors, and due to the language barrier, her explanations were often fragmented and difficult to piece together into anything useful.
It was during these conversations that Lynd realized Mag was a female giant. He had read that giants beyond the Wall had little distinction between the sexes in terms of appearance, but he had never imagined that the bearded giant standing before him—who lacked any obvious feminine features—was actually a woman.
Moreover, of the 26 Stone Giants, 17 were female, while only 9 were male, and the male giants were noticeably smaller than their female counterparts.
After the giants saw Glory, which was clearly different from an ordinary Shadowcat, they all called it "Taka."
Mag explained that Taka was a mysterious beast that inhabited the White Waste. According to legend, it could grow as large as a dragon and even prey upon them. Its most distinguishing characteristic was its size—larger than a typical Shadowcat.
Lynd speculated that the Taka might be a variant of the Shadowcat, like Glory. As for the claim that it fed on dragons, he believed it might be related to its ability to consume the energy of resentful spirits that contained dragon souls.
As for whether it could truly grow to a massive size like a dragon, Lynd found it unlikely based on Glory’s growth so far. If Glory were to grow further, it would require a significant amount of resentful spirit energy specifically containing dragon souls. Not every type of resentful spirit energy could promote its growth; for example, the energy found in Summerhall had only granted Glory special abilities rather than physical development. In the end, Lynd decided to let nature take its course—whatever growth Glory achieved would ultimately depend on fate.
The group, a combination of several wildling tribes, sworn brothers of the Night's Watch, and giants, moved at a slow pace. It took them three days to reach a fork in the Milkwater River. Since they had fled without carrying supplies, they had to hunt for food along the way. The presence of many wounded also contributed to their sluggish progress.
Fortunately, during those three days, they did not encounter any White Walkers or wights, and the blizzard had completely stopped. More notably, Lynd witnessed a surge of magic from a Weirwood tree with a carved human face. It seemed that the Three-Eyed Crow was beginning to recover and was using the Weirwood to create an environment akin to a barrier beyond the Wall.
While this barrier would not harm the White Walkers directly, it appeared to impose certain restrictions on them, potentially weakening them to the point where even ordinary folk might be capable of killing them—perhaps foreshadowing the rise of a White Walker slayer like Samwell Tarly.
“Damn it, the ice has melted!” Standing by the Milkwater River, Grenn scowled at the broken chunks of floating ice.
“Cut down trees and make a raft,” Mance Rayder suggested.
Another voice proposed, “Have the giants drive stakes into the water and build a makeshift bridge.”
As everyone hurried to propose solutions, Lynd rode up to the river on his horse, leading Glory beside him. He turned to Grenn and Mance Rayder and simply said, “Follow me.”
Amid the puzzled stares of the crowd, Lynd nudged his horse forward, guiding Ebon toward the river.
The moment Ebon’s hooves touched the water, they did not sink. Instead, they stood firm atop the surface as ice rapidly formed beneath him. A thick layer of ice spread outward as he advanced, connecting the floating ice and shaping an ice bridge.
Those who witnessed this miracle—whether they had seen Lynd slay White Walkers before or had only recently joined the wildling tribes—were filled with awe. Cries of worship erupted, calling upon the gods.
While the crowd was still immersed in their reverent shouts, the giants were the first to step onto the newly formed ice bridge. Despite their immense weight, the bridge held firm, showing no sign of breaking.
Seeing this, the others quickly followed, scrambling onto the ice and making their way across the river.
Once everyone had safely crossed, Lynd drew his greatsword and swung it in a single, decisive motion. The entire ice bridge shattered into countless shards, which were swiftly carried away by the current, vanishing as if they had never existed.
For Grenn and the others, crossing the Milkwater meant safety. The White Walkers and wights could not pursue them across the river, making the remainder of their journey significantly easier.
With their fear of pursuit gone, the group quickened their pace. Before long, they had entered the mountainous terrain of the Frostfangs. After traversing a few hills, they reached the entrance of a canyon.
At the top of the canyon, wildling sentries stood watch. They had spotted the group from afar and immediately sounded their horns to alert those inside.
By the time the travelers arrived at the entrance, a large gathering had already formed to meet them. Grenn hastened his steps, breaking away from the group and rushing forward. The wildling leaders waiting at the entrance stepped out to greet him.
These wildling chieftains, both men and women, seemed to share a close bond with Grenn. Upon seeing him, they reached out and embraced him, speaking in their native tongue as they inquired about the migration.
However, when their gazes shifted to the rest of the group—particularly to Mance Rayder and the others in their black Night’s Watch cloaks—their expressions darkened. Their voices rose in protest, shouting angrily at Grenn.
"Mance is a good Crow. He has broken his Crow's oath and is now Free Folk," Grenn shouted in the Common Tongue, addressing both the wildling leaders and Mance Rayder.
Mance Rayder stepped forward, offering the wildling leaders his respects before skillfully explaining his situation in their language. Their expressions softened slightly, and one of the eldest among them instructed Mance Rayder and the others to discard their black cloaks. Mance complied without hesitation, and with that, the wildlings were convinced that he and his followers were no longer bound to the Night's Watch.
With that matter settled, they led the group deeper into the canyon. It was only then that they took notice of Lynd, flanked by giants, with Glory by his side.
Someone whispered to Grenn, inquiring about Lynd. To them, he did not resemble a formidable knight but rather a fool—dressed in metal armor despite the bitter cold. Even with a massive beast following him, he seemed to be nothing more than a man who had managed to tame a large creature.
However, when Grenn recounted what he had witnessed—how Lynd had descended from the mountains like living thunder, slaughtering wights and White Walkers—the wildlings regarded him as if he were raving drunk. Such tales sounded more like the ramblings of a fool than reality.
Yet, the tribal leaders familiar with the Stone Giants noticed the way the giants treated Lynd—with deference, almost reverence, as if he were a deity. That alone made them reconsider Grenn’s words. Perhaps, just perhaps, what he said was not so far from the truth.
The canyon was not particularly long; it took five or six minutes to walk through. On the other side, the landscape opened into a valley surrounded by towering mountains, thick with trees. Melted snow from the peaks converged into a small lake at the valley's center, around which countless tents and cabins were haphazardly erected. Thousands of wildlings moved through the camp, going about their daily tasks. Among them were a dozen or so Woolly Giants, assisting the wildlings in building their shelters.
When the Stone Giants spotted their shaggy kin, their hardened faces twisted into expressions of disgust. Those giants, in turn, let out low, provocative growls upon seeing the Stone Giants.
Despite the evident tension, neither side made a move to attack. Their hostility remained limited to expressions and body language.
The wildling leaders, relieved that the giants were not fighting, quickly arranged for the Stone Giants to stay in the caves at the edge of the valley—an environment they preferred.
Lynd settled outside the caves with the Stone Giants. Unlike the Furry Giants, who lacked construction skills, the Pound Giants were adept at building. Before nightfall, they had already erected a simple pointed house for Lynd before moving on to fix up their own dwellings.
As night fell, the sound of a sentry’s horn echoed through the valley. At once, the wildlings grew tense, turning their gazes toward the canyon’s entrance. When they heard the distinct pattern of long and short blasts, they let out sighs of relief and resumed their work.
Before long, the leader of the wildlings in the canyon welcomed another group into the valley. This tribe was smaller, numbering between a few hundred and three thousand people, yet they drew considerable attention due to their leader.
At the front of the procession rode a white-haired man on the back of a bear. Walking beside him was a normal-sized Shadowcat and three wolves.
At the sight of this distinctive figure, Lynd instantly recognized him—Varamyr, the infamous Six-Skin of the wildlings beyond the Wall.
Varamyr was said to be the most powerful Skinchanger in existence, able to control six beasts at once and even possess the minds of animals and humans alike. In a way, he was an enhanced version of Howland Reed.
Yet, despite his abilities, Lynd despised him. In fact, Varamyr was one of the few people in the world of ice and fire that he utterly loathed.
Varamyr was a kinslayer. As a child, he had hated his younger brother so much that he used three dogs to tear the two-year-old to death. He was also a man devoid of morals—willing to betray and kill even those who had helped him. When a spearwife once saved him, risking her life to protect him from the White Walkers, he had rewarded her by murdering her the moment it suited him.
Even so, as long as Varamyr did not provoke him, Lynd had no intention of doing anything to him.
Lynd planned to stay in the valley for two days, learning what he could about the wildling tribes before concluding his journey beyond the Wall and returning to the Great Wall.
“Mag, I, two days later, return, Great Wall, south, you, follow, me?” Lynd suddenly wondered whether the Stone Giants would be willing to accompany him when he returned south. After all, they had always lived in the far north.
“Giants, follow Gowah, south, follow Gowah,” She answered loudly. Lynd’s expression remained firm, and the other Stone Giants echoed the response with a chorus of deep, resounding voices.
Their thunderous roar drew the attention of the wildlings in the camp. Many turned their heads, but when they saw it was just the giants making noise, they resumed their activities.
Only one man reacted differently—Varamyr, still sitting atop his bear. His eyes lit up when he noticed Glory by Lynd’s side, a calculating gleam flashing across his face, as though he had just thought of something.
That night, Lynd took out the dragon egg and performed his usual routine maintenance before deciding to rest. The intense battle with the White Walkers, followed by days of relentless travel, had left him exhausted.
However, as he prepared to sleep, Glory, who had been resting by the campfire, suddenly rose from the ground. The beast paced restlessly in an open area, letting out low, menacing growls.
Lynd immediately sensed the unease and aggression in Glory’s emotions. He was just about to connect with Glory’s mind to calm it down when—
Suddenly, Glory’s fur darkened, turning completely black, and a strange radiance emanated from it. A vague figure flickered into existence for just an instant before vanishing.
At that very moment, an agonized scream tore through the wildling camp.
Then, chaos erupted.
From within Varamyr’s tent, the bear, Shadowcat, and three wolves burst out, their eyes wild with frenzy. They attacked everything in sight—wildlings, animals, anything that moved.
The camp was thrown into panic. The wildlings had no choice but to put the crazed beasts down.
When they finally stormed into Varamyr’s tent, they found him lying on the ground, motionless. His vacant eyes stared into nothingness, his mouth slack and drooling. He looked like an idiot.
