Great Hall of Beasts

The sky grew dark.

The inner keep of Deepwood Motte was built primarily of wood, so its outer walls lacked the abundance of torches used to light Winterfell.

Consequently, the inner keep was exceptionally dim once night fell.

This left Jon, who was visiting Deepwood Motte for the first time, unable to distinguish left from right, forcing him to follow Garon and Robett blindly.

Fortunately, it was not long before a brightly lit hall came into Jon's view.

"We have arrived at the Great Hall of Beasts!"

Garon called out, then led the way inside.

"The Great Hall of Beasts?"

Jon felt a flicker of doubt, then hurried into the hall alongside Robett.

As soon as he stepped through the door, a roaring fireplace caught Jon's eye.

Yet, what truly drew his attention was not the hearth, but the various beast skulls hanging all over the wooden walls.

There were all sorts, nearly a hundred in total.

The most striking among them was the massive mammoth skull mounted on the central wall of the hall.

"What is that?"

Jon looked at the skull in astonishment, unable to help but ask Garon.

Garon was not surprised in the slightest; after all, everyone who visited the Great Hall of Beasts for the first time was captivated by the mammoth skull.

"That is the skull of a mammoth. What do you think? Isn't it magnificent?"

Seeing Jon nod, he continued his introduction: "The skulls in this hall were all hunted by generations of the Glover family."

Gazing at the well-preserved beast skulls in the hall, Garon's voice carried a hint of melancholy.

"At its peak, the hall held over a thousand beast skulls, which is how the Great Hall of Beasts got its name."

"Unfortunately, as time passed, some of these beasts went extinct, and the skulls gradually decayed."

"This is all that remains today!"

Listening to Garon's explanation, Jon swept his gaze across every wall of the hall and the skulls mounted upon them.

Unlike the stone-built halls of Winterfell, the Great Hall of Beasts, serving as the reception and council chamber for Deepwood Motte, was half-stone and half-wood, with a foundation of piled stone and a main structure of timber.

Because it was built on a hill, the Great Hall of Beasts occupied nearly half the space of the great hall in Winterfell.

Jon made a rough calculation and estimated it could hold at most two or three hundred people.

He withdrew his gaze and sighed, "I never expected Deepwood Motte to still possess a mammoth skull. I had thought they, like the Giants, were merely legends!"

Garon smiled and was about to reply when he heard footsteps coming from outside the hall.

He looked up to see a thin, elderly man of about fifty walking in.

"Steward Mormont!"

Garon wore a smile as he stepped forward to greet him.

Jon stood where he was, curiously observing the appearance of Steward Mormont—

His expression was stern, and his graying hair and beard were groomed with meticulous care, giving him an unapproachable air.

But to Jon's surprise, the moment Steward Mormont saw Garon, his expression melted like an iceberg, revealing a look of joy.

He quickly bowed to Garon and said, "Welcome home, Lord Garon!"

Garon smiled and helped him up, then introduced Jon to him.

"This is Jon Snow, the squire assigned to me by Lord Ned."

"Jon, this is Steward Mormont. He is responsible for all the daily affairs of Deepwood Motte. If you find yourself in need of anything, you can ask him to handle it."

Jon offered a smile and greeted Steward Mormont in a friendly manner.

Steward Mormont scrutinized Jon with a glance, nodded slightly, and then turned to Garon for instructions.

"My lord, I have already prepared a room for Jon. Would you like me to take him to see it now?"

"Yes, and prepare some hot water for him to wash up, and have dinner sent over as well!"

After Garon finished instructing Steward Mormont, he said to Jon, "You have had a hard journey these past few days, Jon. Once you have washed up and eaten, get some rest early!"

Jon had no objections; he called out to Ghost and prepared to follow the steward.

Ghost, who had been lying under the dining table, stood up at once, giving the unsuspecting Steward Mormont a fright. "A... a direwolf?"

Garon immediately explained, "Do not be afraid. Ghost is the direwolf Jon raised; he will not hurt anyone."

Jon also chimed in, "That's right, Ghost is very well-behaved. You don't need to worry, Steward."

Steward Mormont seemed to want to say more, but ultimately just said to Jon, "Follow me!"

After speaking, he turned and walked out of the hall, with Jon and Ghost following closely behind.

Once the figures of the two men and the wolf had vanished, Robett finally looked toward Garon and asked.

"Garon, what exactly happened at Winterfell?"

"Is Jon Snow truly the bastard son of Lord Ned?"

"How could Lord Ned let him serve as your squire?"

Hearing Robett's barrage of questions, Garon did not rush to answer, but instead walked to the dining table and poured himself a glass of wine to quench his thirst.

"Ah—"

He let out a satisfied breath before looking at Robett to answer his questions.

"Uncle, many things have happened at Winterfell over the past few days, starting with the King's visit..."

Garon slowly recounted everything he had encountered at Winterfell one by one.

Winning a betrothal through Trial by Combat, slaying a giant bear to rescue Prince Joffrey, and investigating the case of Bran's fall from the tower.

Robett's expression shifted through a kaleidoscope of emotions as he listened; he never could have imagined that his nephew had accomplished so many monumental feats.

"Wait—"

After Garon finished, Robett still looked at him in disbelief, confirming once more: "Are you saying that in these few days, you first won a betrothal through Trial by Combat, then hunted and killed a giant bear, and then captured Theon of the Iron Islands for attempting to murder Bran?"

Garon nodded calmly, as if these matters were not worth mentioning.

"By the Old Gods!"

Even though Robett was accustomed to great storms and high tides, he was left speechless by the impact of so many major events.

He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts.

Finally, Robett looked at Garon with a complex expression, his eyes filled with both pride and lingering fear.

Seeing his uncle's worried look, Garon said dismissively, "Uncle Robett, you should know my martial prowess best; how could any ordinary person be a match for me?"

Thinking back to their previous sparring matches, Robett let out a bitter laugh, "I just didn't expect that you could even kill a giant bear."

He paused, then specifically cautioned, "Garon, you are now the Lord of Deepwood Motte; you must never take such risks again!"

"The glory of the Glover family rests entirely upon you!"

A warmth surged in Garon's heart, and he smiled as he agreed, then added, "By the way, while I was away from Deepwood Motte these past few days, has anything happened?"

Robett thought for a moment and replied, "Everything at Deepwood Motte is normal. Maester Beckman's research hasn't made much progress, and the training of the Forest Clans is proceeding as scheduled."

"Is there anything else?"

Robett thought carefully, then said, "A wandering wizard passed through Deepwood Motte recently and prophesied that there will be one last great harvest before the long summer ends."

"Steward Mormont seems to believe it; he wants to set aside one-tenth of the next harvest as grain reserves and distribute the rest to the clans."

Garon raised an eyebrow and refused, "That is not enough. I will speak with Steward Mormont later; the grain reserves cannot be less than two-tenths."

Robett nodded, having no objections.

"Right, there is one more thing. Yesterday, when the Forest Clans were hunting, they discovered a poacher in the hunting grounds."

"The man has already been captured; you should find some time to deal with him, Garon."

Garon was well-versed in the laws of the nobility.

For those who poached without the lord's permission, the punishment was either to have a hand cut off or to be sent to the Wall to take the black.

He sat at the dining table and said indifferently, "Hmm, I understand. I will judge him in my capacity as lord tomorrow."

Garon drained the rest of the wine in his glass and reached out to pour another, but at that moment, a figure suddenly surfaced in his mind, and he asked on a whim.

"Uncle Robett, do you know his name?"

"Joel!"

Robett gave the answer instantly.