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"
You
would
not
give
up
the
search
?
"
"
Maester
Aemon
thinks
you
clever
.
"
Mormont
moved
the
raven
to
his
shoulder
.
The
bird
tilted
its
head
to
one
side
,
little
eyes
aglitter
.
The
answer
was
there
.
"
Is
it
.
.
.
it
seems
to
me
that
it
might
be
easier
for
one
man
to
find
two
hundred
than
for
two
hundred
to
find
one
.
"
The
raven
gave
a
cackling
scream
,
but
the
Old
Bear
smiled
through
the
grey
of
his
beard
.
"
This
many
men
and
horses
leave
a
trail
even
Aemon
could
follow
.
On
this
hill
,
our
fires
ought
to
be
visible
as
far
off
as
the
foothills
of
the
Frostfangs
.
If
Ben
Stark
is
alive
and
free
,
he
will
come
to
us
,
I
have
no
doubt
.
"
"
Yes
,
"
said
Jon
,
"
but
.
.
.
what
if
.
.
.
"
"
.
.
.
he
’
s
dead
?
"
Mormont
asked
,
not
unkindly
.
Jon
nodded
,
reluctantly
.
"
Dead
,
"
the
raven
said
.
"
Dead
.
Dead
.
"
"
He
may
come
to
us
anyway
,
"
the
Old
Bear
said
.
"
As
Othor
did
,
and
Jafer
Flowers
.
I
dread
that
as
much
as
you
,
Jon
,
but
we
must
admit
the
possibility
.
"
"
Dead
,
"
his
raven
cawed
,
ruffling
its
wings
.
Its
voice
grew
louder
and
more
shrill
.
"
Dead
.
"
