"Third watch," the big man said, through hair and frozen snot. "Me and Softfoot. I remember, Chett." the moon would be black tonight, and they had jiggered the watches so as to have eight of their own standing sentry, with two more guarding the horses. It wasn´t going to get much riper than that. besides, the wildlings could be upon them any day now. Chett meant to be well away from here before that happened. He meant to live.
Three hundred sworn brothers of the Night´s Watch had ridden north, two hundred from Castle Black and another undred from the Shadow Tower. It was the biggest ranging in livivng memory, near a thrid of the Watch´s strength. They meant to find Ben Stark, Ser Waymar Royce, and the other rangers who´d gone missing, and discover why the wildlings were leaving their villages. Well, they were no closer to Stark and Royce than when they´d left the Wall but they´d learned where all the wildling had gone - up into the icy heights of the godsforsaken Frosfangs. They could squat up there till the end of time and it wouldn´t prick Chett´s boils none.
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