"When did it happen?"
Jon was silent for a while before he asked. His voice was calm, betraying no emotion.
Samwell Tarly gave him a cautious glance before answering. "About two months ago. You know how it is. The Wall is in the far north. News always takes longer to reach us."
Silence settled over the room again.
Looking at Jon's expressionless face, Samwell found himself at a loss.
He knew what lay beneath that calm, but he did not know what to say.
Suddenly, Jon stood and headed for the door.
Samwell hurried after him. "Jon, where are you going?"
Jon paused without turning around. "To find Davos and hand over the position of Lord Commander."
Samwell froze. "Why?"
"I'm taking off the black. I'm going south."
With that, Jon pushed open the door and walked out.
Samwell reached out to stop him. He opened his mouth, then closed it again.
He had a family too. He knew how Jon felt right now. If it had been him... his mother, his brother Dickon, his father Randyll... if they had died too, could he have stayed here with an easy conscience?
No.
He had no right to stop Jon.
Jon walked along the wooden corridor.
He had not gone far when he saw someone he had not expected at the other end.
Maester Aemon.
The trembling, silver-haired old man was coming toward him, supported by a steward.
Blind in both eyes, the old man rarely left his room. Yet today he had come out of his own accord.
Jon hurried forward and took his other arm.
Old Aemon heard the footsteps and felt someone take his arm. He knew Jon had come.
He turned his head toward Jon and asked, "You've heard everything, child?"
Jon knew what he meant. After