At that moment, Castle Black's broad but rather muddy courtyard was packed with people, far more crowded and noisy than it had been on Viserys's last visit.
Most of them, however, were not black-clad men of the Night's Watch.
They were wrapped in all manner of thick, filthy hides-bearskin, sealskin, and coarse sheepskin. Their tangled hair and beards were crusted with ice, and their faces bore the marks of the wind and frost beyond the Wall.
They were Free Folk, or, as everyone else saw them, wildlings.
Even after all this time, the task of moving the Free Folk south and settling them had yet to end. After all, the only passage south through Castle Black was rather narrow.
Moreover, every Free Folk arrival who pledged allegiance had to undergo lengthy registration and questioning by the Night's Watch. With scattered groups still arriving steadily from the north, the queue stretched on and on.
For now, though, these Free Folk had forgotten their impatience with the wait and their uncertainty about the new lives ahead of them. All of them tilted their heads back, gazing at the enormous beasts descending through the sky, circling closer above Castle Black.
Their eyes were so wide they seemed about to leap from their sockets, filled with raw astonishment, profound awe, and a trace of fear they could not entirely shake.
Although men of the Night's Watch had already told them that the Dragonlord from the south-the king to whom they had sworn allegiance-had come with his dragons, and King Ghidorah's earlier roar had conveyed majesty without any oppressive force, they still could not help feeling afraid.
Some Free Folk children, drawn by curiosity, squeezed to the front of the crowd. They stood on tiptoe, ignoring their mothers' tugging and scolding as they strained to