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Sam
yawned
.
"
Maester
Aemon
sent
me
to
find
maps
for
the
Lord
Commander
.
I
never
thought
.
.
.
Jon
,
the
books
,
have
you
ever
seen
their
like
?
There
are
thousands
!
"
He
gazed
about
him
.
"
The
library
at
Winterfell
has
more
than
a
hundred
.
Did
you
find
the
maps
?
"
"
Oh
,
yes
.
"
Sam
’
s
hand
swept
over
the
table
,
fingers
plump
as
sausages
indicating
the
clutter
of
books
and
scrolls
before
him
.
"
A
dozen
,
at
the
least
.
"
He
unfolded
a
square
of
parchment
.
"
The
paint
has
faded
,
but
you
can
see
where
the
mapmaker
marked
the
sites
of
wildling
villages
,
and
there
’
s
another
book
.
.
.
where
is
it
now
?
I
was
reading
it
a
moment
ago
.
"
He
shoved
some
scrolls
aside
to
reveal
a
dusty
volume
bound
in
rotted
leather
.
"
This
,
"
he
said
reverently
,
"
is
the
account
of
a
journey
from
the
Shadow
Tower
all
the
way
to
Lorn
Point
on
the
Frozen
Shore
,
written
by
a
ranger
named
Redwyn
.
It
’
s
not
dated
,
but
he
mentions
a
Dorren
Stark
as
King
in
the
North
,
so
it
must
be
from
before
the
Conquest
.
Jon
,
they
fought
giants
!
Redwyn
even
traded
with
the
children
of
the
forest
,
it
’
s
all
here
.
"
Ever
so
delicately
,
he
turned
pages
with
a
finger
.
"
He
drew
maps
as
well
,
see
.
.
.
"
"
Maybe
you
could
write
an
account
of
our
ranging
,
Sam
.
"
He
’
d
meant
to
sound
encouraging
,
but
it
was
the
wrong
thing
to
say
.
The
last
thing
Sam
needed
was
to
be
reminded
of
what
faced
them
on
the
morrow
.
He
shuffled
the
scrolls
about
aimlessly
.
"
There
’
s
more
maps
.
If
I
had
time
to
search
.
.
.
everything
’
s
a
jumble
.
I
could
set
it
all
to
order
,
though
;
I
know
I
could
,
but
it
would
take
time
.
.
.
well
,
years
,
in
truth
.
"
"
Mormont
wanted
those
maps
a
little
sooner
than
that
.
"
Jon
plucked
a
scroll
from
a
bin
,
blew
off
the
worst
of
the
dust
.
A
corner
flaked
off
between
his
fingers
as
he
unrolled
it
.
"
Look
,
this
one
is
crumbling
,
"
he
said
,
frowning
over
the
faded
script
.
"
Be
gentle
.
"
Sam
came
around
the
table
and
took
the
scroll
from
his
hand
,
holding
it
as
if
it
were
a
wounded
animal
.
"
The
important
books
used
to
be
copied
over
when
they
needed
them
.
Some
of
the
oldest
have
been
copied
half
a
hundred
times
,
probably
.
"
"
Well
,
don
’
t
bother
copying
that
one
.
Twenty
-
three
barrels
of
pickled
cod
,
eighteen
jars
of
fish
oil
,
a
cask
of
salt
.
.
.
"
