Caste's castle-if those crooked wooden fences and the handful of musty huts could be called a castle.
As soon as Viserys entered, he saw a dozen or so women dressed in ragged animal skins, their heads lowered as they busied themselves boiling water and preparing food. They did not dare spare these arriving strangers so much as a glance.
Benjen and the other men of the Night's Watch were clearly accustomed to everything here. After taking off their equipment, they began helping Caste's women move barrels and clear space to rest.
After nightfall, Caste held his so-called "feast" in the hall. Flames crackled in the hearth, yet never managed to dispel the cold dampness or the faint, lingering stench.
Several rough wooden tables were piled with black bread, hard cheese, and a basin of meat stew cooked down so thoroughly that its ingredients were unrecognizable. There were also a few jugs of cloudy "wine" that gave off a pungent smell.
The food was worse than what even the lowliest servants at Dragonwing Castle ate, but in a hellhole like Beyond the Wall, this was probably all the "hospitality" Caste could offer.
Caste sat beside the seat of honor, which he had yielded to Viserys, but he still seemed restless. His small eyes kept flicking toward the door, as though he feared something. He tried hard to appear welcoming, but his smile always looked stiff, and a calculating gleam lurked deep in his eyes.
"My lord, try this." Seeing that Viserys had not touched the food, Caste assumed he wanted to be served and pushed the bowl of meat stew toward him. "Fresh venison, all of it. Killed just today."
No one believed him, though. The meat's color and texture certainly did not look fresh.
Viserys left the bowl untouched. He