How to john wall dance
John Wall Busted Out His Famous Dance Move
John Wall Busted Out His Famous Dance Move | YardbarkerJayne Kamin-Oncea-USA TODAY Sports
Originally posted on The Cold Wire | By Brandon Marcus | Last updated 10/7/22
John Wall is now officially a member of the Los Angeles Clippers.
It’s been some time since fans have seen the man play professional ball because he sat out the entire last season with the Houston Rockets.
Followers of the Clippers are hoping they get a version of Wall similar to the one from a few years ago when he was putting up 20 points and nearly 10 assists a game.
The regular season hasn’t started yet but we are already seeing signs of the old Wall.
John Wall's Dougie is still elite
: @NBA, @LAClippers pic.twitter.com/7t7jw86W77
— SportsCenter (@SportsCenter) October 7, 2022
For example, before a preseason game the other night, Wall was on the sidelines doing the Dougie.
This might seem like a little thing but it’s actually important because the dance was a pre-game warm-up for years when Wall was playing with the Washington Wizards.
With the return of this dance and a renewed sense of determination, is Wall about to play the best ball of his career?
The Return Of WallWall’s career average is currently 19.1 points, 4.3 rebounds, and 9.1 assists.
Those numbers would be more than enough to make him a pivotal part of the Clippers and their drive to make it far in the postseason and even to the NBA Finals.
However, what if he doesn’t mesh well with Kawhi Leonard and Paul George?
What if he has spent too much time off the court and is very rusty when the season starts?
These are questions swirling through the heads of Clippers fans.
But they should also be thinking of something else: what if Wall is as good as he once was?
What happens if Wall dances his way onto the court and plays amazing basketball with Leonard, George, and their stacked roster?
If that’s the case, Wall won’t be the only one dancing.
This article first appeared on The Cold Wire and was syndicated with permission.
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How to dance at a party: advice from British GQ editor-in-chief Dylan Jones
The main thing to remember when throwing yourself on the dance floor: no one is looking at you. Do not be afraid that you will be laughed at and that everyone is just waiting for you to get tangled in your own feet. Believe me, no one is interested in this, especially if you behave decently.
In the event that your dancing experience is zero - or if you once tried and did not like it - you need to learn two simple truths first. Firstly, women like it when a man dances well, so if you are a complete layman in this matter, you should strain yourself. Secondly, no one expects great things from you in all your endeavors. Personally, I am able to dance to anything, but when a DJ puts on I'm So Excited by The Pointer Sisters or something in the style of drum and bass, I immediately leave the dance floor.
Not because I don't like such compositions - although at my age it would be forgivable - but because they are difficult to dance to. Not everyone can rock to any song, so if it has too many beats per minute, or a particularly jagged rhythm, or is too slow (like Just Be Good to Me by the SOS Band), feel free to go to the bar. Don't like reggae? Run to the toilet. Can't help laughing at the new Coldplay hit? Sit down.
If you don't know how to dance at all, but circumstances require it, move by feel. Do not kick your legs - work with your body; bending your elbows, squirm with dignity to the beat of the music. It's really easy! Soon you will become bolder and begin to vary your dance moves; do it in proportion. No one expects you to turn into John Travolta - all his exploits in "Saturday Night Fever" were staged by a professional choreographer, so you should not go out of your way.
A few more important points. Don't slow dance unless you're holding a woman in your arms. Don't try to act like Bruce Springsteen from the Dancing in the Dark video or Kevin Bacon from the movie Loose and dance like a rocker, throwing out your arms and legs at the same time, like a drunken doll.
It would also be nice to learn some traditional dance - for example, tango. The easiest way to learn is the twist, which can be danced to anything from Chubby Checker to George Michael's Faith. Put your foot slightly in front of you and start spinning on it, wobbling your hips; then “screw” yourself into the floor without bending your back, and then “unscrew” back up in the same way.
If you want to learn something spectacular, try the Highland Fling, one of the oldest Scottish dances. Raise your left hand and use it to draw the letter "c" above your head. Place your right hand on your thigh so that the thumb is pointing down and the other fingers are pointing back. With the emphasis on the left leg, stretch the right leg all the way and make a quarter-turn jump. Place your right foot behind the ankle of your left and again jump in a quarter turn, stretching your right leg as far as possible to the right side. Then do another quarter-turn jump, keeping your right foot in front of your left ankle (toes pointing to the floor).
Repeat the movement, changing the right leg to the left and vice versa.
When the song ends, bow gracefully with a George Clooney grin. And remember: courage and recklessness are not the same thing.
Photo: Mr Jones' Rules for the Modern Man © 2006 Dylan Jones. Published with permission from Hodder & Stoughton. Illustration: Mitt Roshin
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A Dance with Dragons - John
"R'hllor," Melisandre sang, raising her hands to the falling snow, "you are the light in our eyes, the fire in our hearts, the heat in our loins." Your sun warms us during the day, your stars protect us in the darkness of the night.
- Praise to R'hllor, Lord of Light, - the wedding guests answered in a discordant chorus before the icy breath of the wind carried them away. Jon Snow lifted the hood of his cloak.
Today the snowfall was light, with only a thin scattering of snowflakes dancing in the air, but a wind blew along the Wall from the east as cold as the breath of an ice dragon from the tales of Old Nan.
Even Melisandre's fire trembled; the flame pressed against the bottom of the moat, crackling softly as the red priestess sang. It seemed that only the Ghost did not feel the frost.
Alys Karstark leaned closer to John:
- Snow during the wedding signifies a cold marriage. My lady mother always said that.
He looked at Queen Selyse. There must have been a blizzard on the day of her wedding to Stannis. Wrapped in a robe of ermine, surrounded by court ladies, maids and knights, the southern queen appeared to be a frail, pale, shrunken creature. A forced smile seemed to freeze to her thin lips, but her eyes sparkled with reverence. She hates the cold but loves the flames. John only had to look at her to understand. One word from Melisandre and the queen will willingly step into the fire, embracing him like a lover.
But it seems that not all of the Queen's people shared her enthusiasm. Ser Bruce looked half drunk, Ser Maleforge's hand rested on the ass of the lady in front, Ser Narbert yawned, and Ser Patrek of King's Mountain looked angry.
Jon Snow began to understand why Stannis left these people with the queen.
"The night is dark and full of terrors," Melisandre sang. “Alone we are born and alone we die, but as we walk through the dark valley we draw strength from each other and from you, our lord.” Her robes of scarlet silk and satin swirled with every gust of wind. “Two have come here today to join their lives, to stand together against the darkness of the world. Fill their hearts with fire, my lord, and may they forever walk your shining path hand in hand.
- Lord of Light, protect us, Queen Selyse called out.
She was echoed by other voices - Melisandre's flock: pale ladies, trembling maids, Ser Axell, Ser Narbert and Ser Lambert, warriors in iron armor and tenns in bronze, even several of Jon's black brothers.
- Lord of Light, bless your children.
Melisandre was standing with her back to the Wall by a deep ditch in which a fire was burning. Opposite her, on the other side were future spouses.
Behind them is the queen with her daughter and her tattooed jester. Princess Shiren was so wrapped up in furs that she looked round; she exhaled puffs of steam through a scarf that covered most of her face. The queen's men, led by Ser Axell Florent, surrounded the royals.
Although only a few of the Night's Watch brethren gathered around the burning moat, many watched from the rooftops, from the windows, and from the steps of the great winding staircase. John took careful note of who was present and who was not. Some people were on duty, many were just sleeping after duty. But the rest deliberately decided to be absent, expressing their dissatisfaction with this. Among them are Otell Jarvik and Bowen Marsh. Septon Sellador emerged briefly from the septa, fingering the seven-sided crystal on a string around his neck, but returned immediately as the prayers began.
Melisandre raised her hands, and the fire from the ditch shot up towards her fingers like a great red dog jumping for a treat.
A whirlwind of sparks rose to meet the falling snowflakes.
“O Lord of Light, we thank you,” Melisandre sang to the greedy flames. “We thank you for the brave Stannis, who has become our king by your grace. Lead him and keep him, R'hllor! Protect him from betrayal and from evil people, give him strength to crush the servants of darkness.
- Give him strength, - echoed Queen Selyse, her knights and court ladies. – Give him courage. Give him wisdom.
Alys Karstark took Jon's arm:
— How much longer, Lord Snow? If I am destined to be buried under the snow, I would like to die a married woman.
"Soon, milady," John assured her. — Soon.
- We thank you for the sun that warms us, - the queen sang. — We thank you for the stars that protect us in the darkness of the night. We thank you for our hearths and torches that keep the merciless darkness at bay. We thank you for our illuminated souls, for the fires burning in our loins and in our hearts.
Melisandre said:
“Let those who must unite come out.” The lights cast her shadow on the Wall behind her, and the ruby shimmered on the pale skin of her throat.
Jon turned to Alice Karstark:
- Milady. You are ready?
Yes. Oh yeah.
— Are you not afraid?
The girl smiled, reminding John of his little sister so much that it nearly broke his heart.
“Let him be afraid of me.” Snowflakes were melting on her face, but her hair was covered with lace found somewhere by Atlas, and the snow began to accumulate on it, giving her a frosty crown. Her cheeks burned and reddened, her eyes shone.
"Lady of Winter." John squeezed her hand.
Tennov Magnar stood by the fire, waiting, dressed as if for battle: in furs, leather and bronze armor with a bronze sword at his hip. His thinning hair made him look older than his years, but when he turned to look at his bride approaching, John saw a boy in him. His eyes were the size of a walnut, but John couldn't tell if he was afraid of the fire, the priestess, or the bride.
There seems to be more truth to Alice's words than she thinks.
— Who came to marry this woman? Melisandre asked.
“I have come,” John replied. “Give Alice of House Karstark, a woman grown and flourished, legitimate and of noble blood.” He shook her hand one last time and stepped back to join the others.
Who came to claim this woman? Melisandre asked.
“Me,” Sigorn slapped his chest. — Magnar tennov.
“Sigorn,” Melisandre said to him, “will you share your fire with Alice when the night is dark and full of terrors?”
"I swear," the magnar's promise floated like a white cloud in the air. His shoulders were streaked with snow, his ears reddened. “Thanks to the flame of the red god, I will keep her warm all my life.”
— Alice, do you swear to share your fire with Sigorn and keep it warm when the night is dark and full of terrors?
— Until his blood boils — she wore a woolen cloak of the Night's Watch as a maiden cover, on which was sewn a Karstark sun, made of the same white fur as the cloak itself was lined.
Melisandre's eyes burned as brightly as the ruby on her throat.
“So come to me and be one.” She nodded to them, and the fire shot up like a wall, licking the snowflakes with hot tongues. Alys Karstark took her magnar by the hand.
Side by side they jumped over the moat.
“Two went into the flames,” a gust of wind tossed the skirts of the red woman, and she had to press them down, “and came out in one piece,” her copper hair fluttering. “What fire unites, no one can separate.
- What fire unites no one can separate, - the queen's people, the tenns, and even a few black brothers echoed.
Except for kings and uncles, thought Jon Snow.
Cregan Karstark showed up a day after his niece. With him came four armed horsemen, a huntsman, and a pack of dogs, trailing Lady Alys as if she were a deer. Jon Snow met them on the King's Road, half a league south of Mole's Town, before they could show up at Castle Black to exercise guest rights or demand negotiations.
During an argument, one of Karstark's men fired his crossbow at Thaya and died for it. So there were four of them, not counting Cregan himself. Luckily they have a dozen ice chambers. Enough space for everyone.
Like everything else, the heraldry ended at the Wall. Unlike the highborn of the Seven Kingdoms, the Tenns didn't have family crests, so Jon told the stewards to come up with something. In his opinion, they coped with the task. The bride's cloak, which Sigorn had tied around Lady Alice's shoulders, was adorned with a bronze disc on a white woolen field surrounded by flames of bright red silk. Those who bother to look closely might also see the echoes of the Karstark sun, but changes have been made to the crest to make it more appropriate for House Tenn.
Magnar almost ripped the girl's cloak from Alice's shoulders, but almost gently put the bride's cloak on her. He leaned down to kiss her on the cheek, and their breaths mingled. The fire roared again.
The Queen's people sang a hymn of praise.
Is that all? John heard Atlas whisper.
“Consider it done,” Mally muttered, “it's for the best. They got married and I almost pissed myself.” He wrapped himself in his best black clothes, made of new wool that hadn’t yet had a chance to thin, but the wind had made his cheeks red to match the color of his hair. — Hobb's hot wine with cinnamon and cloves. Here's what keeps us warm.
— What is a clove? asked Owen Berk.
The snow began to fall more heavily, and the fire began to die out. The crowd began to disperse and disperse from the courtyard. The people of the queen, the people of the king, the free people - all in the same hurry to hide from the wind and cold.
— Will my lord join us at the feast? Mallie asked Jon Snow.
- A little later - if he does not appear, Sigorn may take this as disrespect. After all, their wedding - is my idea. - I still have a few urgent things to do.
John walked towards Queen Selyse, the Ghost walking beside him. Heaps of old snow crunched under his boots. More and more time was required to clear the paths from one building to another with shovels; more and more people were using underground passages called wormholes.
“Such a beautiful ceremony,” said the queen. “I felt our master’s fiery gaze turn on us. Oh, you have no idea how many times I begged Stannis to have our wedding again - to truly connect in body and soul with the blessing of the Lord of Light. I'm sure I could give His Majesty more children if the fire had bound us.
To give him more children, you first need to get him into your bed. Even on the Wall, everyone knew that Stannis Baratheon had been avoiding his wife for years. One could imagine how His Majesty would have reacted to the idea of holding a second wedding in the middle of the war.
John bowed:
— If Your Majesty wishes, the feast awaits.
The Queen looked at the Ghost suspiciously, then raised her face to John:
— Certainly.
Lady Melisandre knows the way.
The red priestess spoke:
— I must pay attention to my lights, Your Majesty. Perhaps R'hllor will deign to show me His Majesty. A glimpse of a great victory, perhaps.
“Oh.” Queen Selyse looked startled. “Of course…let's pray for a vision from our master…”
“Atlas, guide Her Majesty to the place,” John ordered.
Sir Malegorne stepped forward:
— I will escort Her Majesty to the feast. We don't need your…steward.” The way he hesitated to say his last word showed John that he was thinking of saying something else. Boy? Favorite? Whore?
John bowed again:
— As you wish. I will join you soon.
Ser Malegorne offered his hand, and Queen Selyse stiffly accepted it. She placed her other hand on her daughter's shoulder. Behind them, like ducklings after ducks, the courtiers of the queens were drawn through the courtyard. Their procession was accompanied by the ringing of bells on the jester's cap.
“At the bottom of the sea, mermen are treated to starfish soup, and crabs serve them,” Motley announced as they walked. “I know, I know.
Melisandre's face darkened:
— This creature is dangerous. Many times I have seen him in my flame. Sometimes skulls circle around him, and his lips are red with blood.
I'm surprised you haven't burnt the poor fellow yet. One word in the queen's ear and Pestryak would have been fed to the fire. "You see jesters in your fire, but not a hint of Stannis?"
When I look for him, all I see is snow.
Still the same useless answer. Clydas sent a raven to Darkwood to warn the king of Arnolf Karstark's betrayal, but whether the bird reached His Majesty Jon did not know. The Braavos banker had also left to find Stannis, accompanied by the men Jon provided him, but given the war and the weather, it would be a miracle if he found the king.
- Would you know if the king was dead? Jon asked the red priestess.
- He is not dead. Stannis is God's chosen one, destined to lead the battle against the forces of darkness. I saw it in the flames, read it in an ancient prophecy. When the red star rises and darkness falls, Azor Ahai will be reborn amid smoke and salt and awaken the dragons of stone. Dragonstone is a place of smoke and salt.
John has heard all this before.
"Stannis Baratheon was Lord of Dragonstone, but he was not born there, but in Storm's End, like his brothers," he frowned. What about Mance? Is he lost too? What do your lights show?
- I'm afraid the same. Only snow.
Snow. John knew that south of the Wall the snow continued to fall. Only two days away from here, the King's Road was no longer traversable. Melisandre knows this too. A storm was raging in the east in Seal Bay. According to the latest reports, the variegated fleet that had been assembled to rescue the Free Folk from Hardhome was still stationed in Eastwatch-by-the-Sea due to bad weather.
You see ash dancing in the fire.
- I see skulls. You too. I see your face every time I look into the fire. The danger I warned you about is very close.
- Daggers in the dark. I know. Forgive my doubts, milady. A girl in gray on a dying horse fleeing marriage, that's what you said.
— I was right.
- You made a mistake. Alice is not Arya.
The vision was true. This interpretation of mine turned out to be false. I'm as mortal as you are, Jon Snow. All mortals make mistakes.
- Even the Lord Commanders.
Mance Raider and his spearmen had not returned, and John couldn't help but wonder if the red woman had lied about her plan. Does she play her own game?
- You should keep your wolf close, my lord.
— The ghost is rarely far from me — at the sound of his name, the direwolf raised his head. John scratched him behind the ears. “But now you must excuse me. Ghost, follow me.
Carved into the base of the Wall and closed with heavy wooden doors, the ice chambers ranged from small to very small.
Some were large enough for a person to walk in, others were so small that the prisoners could only sit in them, and the crampedness of the smallest did not imply even this luxury.
John provided his chief prisoner with the largest cell, a bucket of shit, enough skins to keep him warm, and a waterskin of wine. The guards had to fiddle with the icy lock before they could open the chamber. The rusty hinges screeched like damned souls as Vic Whittlestick yanked the door open just enough for John to slip through. He was greeted by a faint smell of excrement, which was not as unbearable as he had expected. In the bitter cold, even shit froze. Jon Snow saw his own dim reflection on the ice walls.
In the corner of the cell there was a pile of hides almost as tall as a man.
"Karstark," Jon Snow called, "wake up."
The skins have moved. Some of them froze together, and the frost that covered them shone and shimmered as they moved. A hand appeared, then a face—brown hair tangled and streaked with grey, fierce eyes, nose, mouth, beard.
Icy snot stuck to the prisoner's mustache.
"Snow," the breath turned to steam, clouding the ice behind the prisoner's head. “You have no right to hold me back. The Laws of Hospitality…
- You're not a guest here. You came armed to the Wall without my permission to take your niece against her will. Lady Alice was offered bread and salt. She is a guest. You're a prisoner.” John let the words hang in the air for a moment, then added:
“Your niece got married.
Cregan Karstark's lips parted to reveal teeth.
- Alice is promised to me - although he was in his fifties, he appeared to be a strong man when he entered the cell. The cold had robbed him of that strength and left him weak and stiff. “My lord father…
- Your father is a castellan, not a lord. The castellan has no right to conclude marriage contracts.
- My father Arnolf is Lord of Karhold.
- The son inherits before his uncle according to all the laws known to me.
Cregan jumped to his feet and flung aside the furs that caught on his ankle.
Harrion is dead.
Or die soon.
- The daughter also inherits before the uncle. If her brother is dead, Karhold belongs to Lady Alys. And she gave her hand to Sigorn, Magnar of the Tenns.
- To the wildling. Dirty wildling killer.” Cregan clenched his fists. He wore leather gloves trimmed with fur to match the matted, hardened cloak that hung over his broad shoulders. The black cape was adorned with the white sunbeams of his house. “I see what you are, Snow. Half wolf, half wildling, traitor and whore bastard. You gave a noble girl to some stinking savage's bed. Have you tried it yourself first? he chuckled. “If you want to kill me, do it and be damned for killing your kin.” The Starks and Karstarks are of the same blood.
My name is Snow.
- Bastard.
Guilty. In this, at least.
- Let your magnar come to Karhold. We'll cut off his head and put it in the lavatory to piss in his mouth.
“Sigorn commands two hundred tenns,” Jon remarked, “and Lady Alys believes that the gates of Karhold will open before her.
Two of your men have already sworn allegiance to her and confirmed everything she said about the plans conceived by your father and Ramsay Snow. I was told you have close relatives in Karhold. Your word could have saved their lives. Give up the castle. Lady Alys will forgive the women who betrayed her and allow the men to wear black.
Cregan shook his head. Chunks of ice in his tangled hair tinkled softly, hitting each other as he moved.
"Never," he said. “Never, never, never.
I should have made a wedding present out of his head for Lady Alys and her Magnar, John thought, but decided not to risk it. The Night's Watch does not take part in civil strife within the kingdom; some might say he helped Stannis too much anyway. I will cut off the head of this fool - they will start saying that I kill northerners and distribute their land to the wildlings. Let him go and he'll go out of his way to ruin everything I've done for Lady Alys and Magnar .
John wondered what his father or uncle would have done in his place. But Eddard Stark was dead, and Benjen Stark was missing in the icy forests beyond the Wall. You don't know anything, Jon Snow.
“Never—a long time,” John said. Tomorrow your opinion may change, or in a year. And King Stannis will return to the Wall sooner or later. Once that happens, he will sentence you to death... unless you wear the black cloak. When a person puts on black, all crimes are forgiven him. - Even for a person like you. — Now, if you'll excuse me. I must be at the feast.
After the piercing cold of the ice chambers in the overcrowded cellar, it was so hot that John almost suffocated when he came down the stairs. The air smelled of smoke, roasted meat, and warmed wine. Axell Florent was toasting as John took his place on the platform.
- For King Stannis and his wife, Queen Selisa, Light of the North! roared Ser Axell. For R'hllor, Lord of Light, may he protect us all! One land, one god, one king!
- One land, one god, one king! , the queen's people responded.
John had a drink with the others. He couldn't tell if Alys Karstark would find joy in her marriage, but at least it should be a night of celebration.
The stewards began serving the first course - onion soup flavored with pieces of goat meat and carrots. Not exactly royal food, but nutritious, quite tasty and warming the stomach. Owen Berk brought out a violin, and some of the Free Folk joined him with pipes and drums. They played the same pipes and drums announcing Mance Raider's attack on the Wall. It seemed to John that now the instruments sound more melodic. With the soup came warm, just out of the oven, loaves of dark grainy bread. Seeing salt and butter on the tables, John frowned. Bowen Marsh told him they were well stocked with salt, but they would run out of oil before the moon changed.
Old Flint and Norrie sat in places of honor just below the dais. Both men were too old to go with Stannis, so they sent their sons and grandsons in their place.
However, they made it to Castle Black for the wedding fairly quickly. And each brought a wet nurse to the Wall. The Norrie woman, now in her forties, had the largest breasts that Jon Snow had ever seen. Flint's fourteen-year-old girl was flat-chested, like a boy, but she had enough milk. With both of them, the child that Vel called the Beast seems to have blossomed.
Help John was grateful to them... but he didn't believe for a moment that the old grey-haired warriors came down from their peaks just for this. Each brought a retinue of warriors: five at Old Flint, twelve at Norrie, all in worn hides and studded leather, menacing as the face of winter. Some had long beards, some had scars, some had both; all worshiped the old gods of the North, the same gods worshiped by the freefolk beyond the Wall. And yet they sat there and drank to a marriage consecrated by some strange overseas red god.
Better than if they refused to drink. Neither Flint nor Norrie turned over the cups to pour the wine on the floor.
This can be interpreted as a certain approval. Although, perhaps they just felt sorry for spilling good southern wine. It won't be long before they try it again in their rocky hills.
Between courses, Ser Axell Florent led Queen Selyse out to dance. Others followed, first the queen's knights and her ladies. Ser Bruce gave Princess Shiren the first dance, then danced with her mother. Sir Narbert danced with each lady of Selyse in turn.
The queen's knights were three times as many as the ladies of the court, so even the humblest maids were drawn into the dance. After a couple of songs, some of the black brothers remembered the skills they had learned in the courts and castles when they were young and their sins had not yet sent them to the Wall, and also came out to dance. The old rogue Ulmer of the Kingswood danced as well as he shot the bow, no doubt delighting his partners with tales of the Brotherhood of the Kingswood, and how he rode with Simon Toyne and Potbellied Ben and helped Wenda the White Doe stigmatize butts of high-born prisoners.
Atlas was grace itself, dancing with the three maids in turn, but never dared to approach the noble ladies. John considered this behavior wise. He didn't like the way some of the queen's knights looked at the steward, especially Ser Patrek of King's Mountain. This one wants to draw some blood, thought John. And looking for a reason.
Laughter erupted from the vaulted ceiling as Owen Berk began to dance with Motley. The sight made Lady Alice smile.
Do you often dance here at Castle Black?
- Every time we play a wedding, milady.
— You know, you could dance with me. It will be just courtesy. We were dancing anyway.
— Somehow? John teased.
— When we were children — she broke off a piece of bread and threw it at him. “You yourself know.
Milady must dance with her husband.
- I'm afraid my magnar is not a master of dancing. If you don't invite me, at least pour me some hot wine.
“As you command,” he signaled to bring the jug.
"So," Alice said after John filled the bowl. Now I am a married woman. I have a wildling husband with his little wildling army.
— “The Free Folk,” as they call themselves. Most, at least. Although tenns are a special kind. Very ancient,” Ygritte said about the nichemu. You don't know anything, Jon Snow. - They came from a well-sheltered valley surrounded by high peaks in the north of the Frostfangs, and for thousands of years they dealt more with giants than with other people. It made them different.
“Different,” she agreed, “but more like us.
Yes, my lady. Tenns have lords and laws. - They know how to bend the knee. - They mine tin and copper for bronze and forge armor and weapons themselves instead of stealing them. They are a proud people, and a brave one. Mance the Raider defeated the old magnar three times before Steer agreed to recognize him as King-behind-the-Wall.
— And now they're here on our side of the Wall.
Exiled from their mountain strongholds, straight to my bedchamber.” She gave a wry smile. - You are the one to blame. My lord father told me that I should charm your brother Robb, but I was only six years old and didn't know how.
Yes, but you are sixteen now and we pray that you know how to charm your young husband.
— Milady, how are the food supplies in Karhold?
“Not very good,” Alice sighed. “Father took almost all the men south with him, and the women and boys had to harvest the crops. They, and even the old and crippled, who were not taken to the war. At first, the crops dried up right on the fields, then the autumn rains turned them into mud, and now snowfalls have begun. Winter will be harsh. Only a few old people will survive it, and many children will die.
Everyone in the north knows this story.
"My father's maternal grandmother was one of the Flints of the mountains," John told her. “The First Flints,” they called themselves.
They said that the other Flints were the offspring of younger sons who had to come down from the mountains in search of food, land and wives. Upstairs, life has always been rough. When snow falls and there is not enough food, the younger ones in the family are forced to go to the cities for the winter or to serve in one of the castles. And the old people gather with the last strength that is still warm in them, and announce that they are going hunting. Some are found in the spring. But most of them disappear without a trace.
- Almost like in Karhold.
He was not surprised.
- When your supplies begin to decrease, remember us, milady. Send the old men to the Wall, have them recite our oaths. Here, in any case, they will not have to die alone, in the middle of the snow, warmed only by memories. Send boys, too, if they become superfluous.
“As you say.” She touched his arm. Karhold remembers.
Moose was served. It smelled much better than John could have expected.
He sent a portion to Leatherface at Hardin's Tower and three large platters of baked vegetables for Wun Wun, then cut off a chunk for himself. Three-fingered Hobb did a good job of it all. It was not easy to persuade him. Hobb had come to him the night before last, complaining that he had joined the Night's Watch to kill wildlings, not to cook for them. “Besides, I've never cooked for a wedding feast, m'lord. Black brothers don't take wives. I swear, that's what the cursed vows say."
John was washing down the roasted meat with a sip of hot wine when Clydas appeared beside him.
"Bird," he announced, and slipped the parchment into John's hand. The letter was sealed with hardened black wax. Eastwatch, John figured it out even before he broke the seal. The letter was written by Maester Harmun: Cotter Pike could neither read nor write. But the words belonged to Pike, they were written down as he spoke - directly and to the point.
The sea is calm today.
With the morning tide, eleven ships will sail towards Hardhome. Three Braavos, four Lyssenians, four ours. The two Lyssenes are hardly seaworthy. We can drown more wildlings than we can save. By your command . Maester Harmun and twenty ravens on board. We will send messages. I am in command of Talon, Cesar is my second-in-command on the Blackbird, Ser Glendon protects Eastwatch.
— Black wings, black news? Alys Karstark asked.
- No, my lady. This news is long awaited.
Although the last part bothers me. Glendon Hewitt was an experienced and strong man, a sensible choice for command in Kotter Pike's absence. But at the same time, he is a great friend of Alliser Thorn and, in a sense, close to Janos Slynt, albeit not for long. John still remembered how Hewitt had dragged him out of bed, and the feeling of a boot hitting his ribs. Not the person I would choose. John rolled up the parchment and put it in his belt.
Then the fish was served, but as soon as the bones of the pike were left, Lady Alys pulled the magnar into a circle.
Judging by the way he moved, Sigorn had never danced in his life, but he had drunk enough hot wine not to think it mattered.
- A northern maiden and a wildling warrior joined together by the Lord of Light - Ser Axell Florent slipped into Lady Alys' vacant seat. Her Majesty approves of their marriage. I am close to her, my lord, so I know what she thinks. King Stannis would also approve.
Unless Roose Bolton puts his head on a pike.
— Alas, not everyone agrees with this — Ser Axell's beard was a messy undergrowth under a drooping chin; coarse hair protruded from the ears and nostrils. “Ser Patrek thinks he would be a better fit for Lady Alice. He lost his lands when he arrived in the North.
“There are enough here in this room who have lost much more,” John said, “and even more who gave their lives in service to the kingdom. Ser Patrek must consider himself lucky.
Axell Florent smiled:
— The King would probably say the same thing if he were here right now.
However, His Majesty's knights must be granted some conditions, right? They followed him so far and at such a cost. And we need to tie the wildlings to the king and kingdom. This marriage is a good start, but I know the queen would be pleased to see a wildling princess married as well.
John sighed. He was tired of explaining that Vel was not a real princess. No matter how often he told them, they never seemed to listen.
— You are persistent, Ser Axell, I give you credit.
Can you blame me, my lord? Such an award is not easy to earn. A mature girl, and from what I hear she looks good. Good hips, good breasts, just made for childbearing.
Who would like to be the father of these children? Sir Patrek? You?
— And who is better? We Florents have the blood of the old kings of Highgarden in our veins. Lady Melisandre could perform the rites, as she did for Lady Alys and the Magnar.
- All you need is a bride.
“Easy to fix.” Florent's smile was so fake it looked painful.
"Where is she, Lord Snow?" Have you taken her to one of your castles? The Gray Warden or the Shadow Tower? VNoruSluh, to other girls? He leaned closer. “Some say you hid her from everyone for your own pleasure. I don't care as long as she doesn't carry the baby. I will make my own sons with her. And if you've already ridden that filly, well... we're both seasoned folks, right?
John has heard enough.
- Ser Axell, if you are indeed the Queen's Hand, then I pity Her Majesty.
Florent's face turned red with anger.
- So this is true . You're going to keep it for yourself, I see. Bastard wants to take his father's place.
Bastard resigned from his father's place. If a bastard wanted Vel, he could only ask for it.
“You must forgive me, sir,” he said. — I want to get some fresh air. - It stinks in here. He turned his head. — The sound of a horn?
Others heard it too. Music and laughter ceased in an instant.
