My Lord, Do You Think My Shoes Look Good?

Beneath the trees, Jon gagged Alliser and ignored the fiery glare that seemed ready to burn through him.

To catch Jon, Alliser had specifically chosen a fine, sturdy horse.

The horse had also lacked for neither feed nor rest along the way, leaving it with enough stamina to carry Jon back to Winterfell.

As for how Alliser had been subdued by Jon, it was actually quite simple.

He first had Ghost draw some of the men away, then lay in wait in a tree himself.

After realizing Ghost's mobility in the woods, he used Skinchanging to have Ghost lure Alliser to the site of his ambush.

What followed happened naturally enough.

The process sounded simple, but it had not been easy at all.

Without the help of his cheat, Jon might have run straight into that ranger.

Or he might have stumbled into the more heavily populated area to the east.

Nor could he have set up such a chain of traps for Alliser.

In any case, he had created an opportunity to escape, and he needed to leave quickly.

Already mounted, Jon turned to look at Alliser, who was still glaring at him and struggling nonstop, when he suddenly thought of something.

Jon dismounted and drew his sword as he walked toward him.

"Mm—mm—"

Seeing Jon approach with a cold longsword in hand, Alliser thought he was about to kill him.

It felt as though a basin of icy water had been dumped over his head.

He shook his head like a rattle-drum and made muffled whimpering noises, as if begging for mercy—or calling for help.

He struggled even more violently, like an earthworm thrown into salt.

He was beginning to regret mouthing off as he had earlier.

Jon had no intention of killing him. He used his sword to cut open Alliser's cloak, then pulled it over his head.

That would keep anyone from learning which way he had gone.

Yet Alliser only trembled harder, his legs even going weak enough that they could no longer support him.

Once he was done, Jon headed back toward the warhorse.

But then he spotted Alliser's two-handed sword lying on the ground.

A yellow amber gem was set into its hilt, and both its craftsmanship and sharpness far surpassed Jon's own sword.

Jon could not tear his eyes away from it, so he took it with him as part of his spoils.

By Westerosi custom, if one defeated an opponent, one was supposed to return the opponent's weapon.

But Jon did not consider himself a local, and taking it could also be considered venting some anger for his former self.

"Ghost, let's go!"

The moment the words left his mouth, man and wolf swiftly vanished into the woods.

Not long after Jon left, Alliser heard someone calling his name.

"Ser Alliser! Ser Alliser!"

"Mm! Mm—"

Alliser let out hoarse cries through his throat, trying to draw the others' attention.

Before long, two recruits found Alliser tied to a tree.

Though his head was covered by a cloak, his clothes and build made it clear that it could only be Alliser.

Just as one of the recruits was about to step forward and untie him, his companion suddenly stopped him.

"What?"

"Have you forgotten how this bastard usually bullies us?"

"Then what do we do?"

This and that, then that and this...

The Night's Watch recruits whispered together for a while, then split up to find the others.

Soon, more than a dozen recruits gathered not far from Alliser.

At that moment, Alliser had no idea what was happening outside.

He was still trying to struggle free. In his view, no matter what, he could not let the others see him in such a miserable state.

Otherwise, how would he lead recruits afterward?

But suddenly, he heard a dense jumble of footsteps slowly approaching him.

Thinking the others had found him, he began making muffled cries for help again.

He had already lost face; he could not let Jon, that deserter, get away too.

Yet what he never expected was a low shout of, "Get him together!" followed by a barrage of punches and kicks raining down on him like a storm.

The Night's Watch recruits punched and kicked him, those with grudges settling them and those without enjoying themselves immensely.

Unconcealable excitement gleamed in every pair of eyes.

Anyone who did not know better might have thought a band of routed soldiers was violating a respectable woman.

Then again, these Night's Watch recruits had never exactly come from respectable backgrounds.

Because of an order issued by Aegon the Conqueror three hundred years ago, criminals from the Seven Kingdoms had become an important source of recruits for the Night's Watch.

Most of these recruits had committed crimes and come to The Wall to atone.

Swallowing their anger was not their style. Naturally, this was the perfect time to give Alliser a good beating.

"Let me throw a punch! Let me throw a punch!"

With over a dozen men beating one person, many could not even squeeze in.

Wild flailing fists and rapid little elbow strikes flew everywhere as though they cost nothing.

Alliser, taking the beating with his head covered, was battered senseless.

At this moment, Pyp and Grenn finally arrived as well.

Seeing a crowd seemingly beating someone up, they thought it was Jon and hurried forward to pull them apart.

Strangely enough, everyone was holding back laughter and only using their hands, scarcely saying a word.

"What? Alliser?"

Upon learning that the person being beaten was not Jon, Pyp relaxed.

Grenn, meanwhile, looked at Alliser being pummeled, an excited smile spreading across his face.

He would never forget who had given him that nickname.

"Move aside!!!"

He was taller and bigger than most men to begin with. When the Night's Watch recruits beating Alliser saw him charge over, they hurriedly stepped aside.

But just as everyone scattered, the cloak covering Alliser's head suddenly fell away.

The dazed, bruised, and swollen Alliser had barely opened his eyes when he saw a size-forty-eight boot coming down toward his face.

Furious, Alliser roared:

"What are you doing?!"

Alliser was so angry he was practically smoking. First Jon had ambushed him and stolen his warhorse, then a group of recruits had taken the chance to gang up on him.

What infuriated him most was that he had no idea who had hit him, making it impossible to investigate.

And now Grenn, that "Aurochs," actually dared to act up right in front of him.

Grenn froze his huge foot in midair, less than half a foot from kicking Alliser.

The smile on his face turned awkward.

"Er... my lord, do you think my shoes look good?"

The air was thick with barely contained glee.

But no one dared to keep taking advantage of the situation.

They hurriedly untied him, but after taking such a beating, every part of Alliser hurt.

He could barely stand steady.

"Where's my sword?!"

Alliser demanded. Everyone scattered to search for it, but even when the ranger Qhorin arrived, they still could not find his sword.

After learning what had happened, Qhorin said:

"Ser Alliser, why don't we return first? Maester Aemon has already written to Winterfell,

and we may not necessarily be able to catch up with him now."

Hearing Qhorin say that, Alliser's face shifted between green and white as he felt utterly humiliated.

He was of noble birth and had spent more than a decade in the Night's Watch.

Yet he had been outmaneuvered by a snot-nosed boy, who had also stolen his warhorse and sword.

Those two things were a nobleman's lifeblood.

Alliser knew that for a long time to come, he might not be able to hold his head up.

Qhorin found a recruit and quickly pieced together the full sequence of events.

A rather approving expression appeared on his face.

He found it deeply regrettable. If Jon had not deserted, he might very well have become an outstanding ranger in the future.

But then Alliser said something that made Grenn and Pyp's hearts pound in terror:

"Robb Stark will never spare that bastard brother of his. He'll personally use the Stark ancestral sword, Ice, to cut off Jon's head!"