The headless corpse twitched a few times in the snow, then went still.
Warm blood gushed from the severed neck.
It stained the surrounding snow a shocking crimson.
A deathly silence hung over the courtyard.
Only the head that had rolled onto the ground bore silent witness to what had just happened.
Every man of the Night's Watch held his breath.
They stared at the figure standing with sword in hand, their eyes filled with emotions too complicated for words.
Alliser Thorne.
The Master-at-Arms who had lorded it over Castle Black, the spiteful knight countless recruits had hated with a passion.
Just like that... he was dead.
Killed by the man he had despised most.
And his death had been justified, his punishment deserved.
Lynn slowly sheathed his sword.
Not a drop of blood clung to Longclaw's blade.
Valyrian steel seemed to have an innate aversion to filth.
He glanced at the head on the ground, its eyes still wide in death, his face expressionless.
[Killed Alliser Thorne. Experience Points +10]
Fuck, only 10 points?
That bastard was still stingy even in death.
Lynn cursed inwardly.
But he knew.
The significance of killing Thorne lay not in that paltry handful of experience points.
It lay in declaring his authority to everyone in the most direct, most northern way possible.
From this day forward, no dissenting voices would remain in Castle Black.
"Clean this up."
Lynn's voice broke the suffocating silence.
Two men of the Night's Watch immediately stepped forward and briskly dragged away Thorne's corpse and head.
Soon, a steward covered the bloodstains on the ground with snow.
As though nothing had happened.
But everyone knew that everything had changed.
Jeor Mormont approached Lynn.
He looked at Lynn, a faint smile of approval appearing on his weathered face.