A month earlier, Jon and Ramsay had set out under Roose Bolton's orders, leading two thousand soldiers from the Dreadfort to muster at Winterfell.
Jon rode in the middle of the column, the cold wind of the North blowing his black curls against his forehead.
Beside him rode a member of a cadet branch of House Bolton, a middle-aged knight named Roger Bolton, who was responsible for helping Jon and Ramsay command the two thousand soldiers in battle.
Even with only two thousand men, Roose Bolton could hardly hand over actual command to Jon and Ramsay, neither of whom had ever led an army into battle on the front lines.
Ramsay stayed near the front of the column, accompanied by his "Bastard's Boys," some thirty men, each carrying a shortbow and a hunting knife.
They had been on the road for four days since leaving the Dreadfort, with another two days' journey before they reached Winterfell.
Ramsay had behaved himself well enough along the way. At least he had not caused any trouble by going "hunting." With Winterfell drawing ever closer, Jon's constant anxiety eased a little.
On the evening of the fifth day, their column reached the Kingsroad. As they were making camp on either side of the road, a scout sent ahead suddenly came galloping back.
"My lord, there's something up ahead."
The scout swung down from his horse and said breathlessly, "There's a group north of our camp, somewhere between eight hundred and a thousand people. Judging by their clothes and equipment, they're Wildlings, and Wildlings from Beyond the Wall at that."
"One of their banners has a white eagle embroidered on it. It looks like the emblem of some tribe Beyond the Wall. At least, none of the mountain clans in the North use a mark