Amid the ice and snow, all people could see was a vast expanse of white. Even the towering, straight pines were nothing more than faint shadows in the blizzard.
Hooves beat against the snow, but even the riders could barely hear them, for the howling cold wind seemed to smother all traces of movement.
Will had thought that this vast black wilderness, known by southerners as the Haunted Forest, could no longer frighten him.
But tonight was clearly an exception.
When a blizzard descended upon The North, it was enough to make anyone realize just how small and powerless they were.
For nine days, they had ridden lightly in black hooded Cloaks, heading north beyond The Wall before turning northwest midway, closely following the tracks of a band of Savages.
But the conditions had steadily worsened, and tracking them had become increasingly difficult.
"Let's turn back. The Savages are dead anyway."
In the Gale, the old soldier named Gared shouted his suggestion to the red-haired captain at the front of the party.
Will had been in the Night's Watch for four years and was already a veteran with hundreds of patrols under his belt. But Gared had served for forty years. He was a true old hand.
"What evidence do you have?" The knight at the front turned back and questioned his deputy.
"Will saw them." Gared gave a stiff smile and tossed the problem to the young man.
In truth, none of them had seen a single living creature besides the three of them for the past three days. And today's dreadful blizzard would only kill them alongside the Savages.
It was not worth it, but orders were orders.
Mormont's order had been to investigate the Savages' movements, so this party had been sent out. Yet Ser Waymar had