Hardhome

[Ollie]

The crannogman did not deign a response, but instead stood off to the side, waiting for the man wanted to arrive.

[Horas]

He waits for a long time. After a while, the guards begin to dice with one another, though they still keep an eye on Olivan.

Some time later, a skinny figure with a hood covering his face and a spear on his back approaches. In the voice of a young man imitating a spooky old man, he intones, "I've been waiting for you, Ollliiiiivaaaan."

[Ollie]

Despite his trouble with the guards, Olivan could not contain the grin that crept onto his face.

"Lucas," he said dipping his head, offering a hand and pulling him into a brief embrace. "I came looking for an old wolf howling," he said softly when he drew closer. "I hardly expected to find a cawing raven chick."

[Horas]

Lucas Blackwood lowers his hood and looks rather insulted. "I thought it was a good impression," he says. "So you had the dream too?"

[Ollie]

"Among others," Olivan nodded, affirming to the fact. "The howling was the only dream I could make sense of. The free folk talk rumors of two kings, but I've already sought the other. His force was meager compared to this," he said, gesturing around them. "And even if that weren't the case, he was certainly no old wolf."

[Horas]

"Everyone here says that Crowsbane is no true king, and he'll either be bowing or dying soon," Lucas affirms. "So have you decided to be a wildling too?"

[Ollie]

"I've decided to follow what the gods have shown me," he corrected sharply. "Either the old wolf will help me find what I seek, or he's another step in the path."

[Horas]

"You never have enough fun, Ollie," Lucas rebukes in turn. "I think the old wolf is him though. The king, I mean. He looks a little like an old wolf at least."

[Ollie]

"You've seen him then? What have you been doing here while I was gone? You spoken to him at all, or kept away and watched?"

[Horas]

He shakes his head. "I've never spoken to him myself, but I've heard him speak. All these wildlings love him. Every once in awhile he'll leave the camp, all by himself, and when he comes back a whole 'nother tribe is following him. And -- oh, have you seen the ships yet?"

[Ollie]

"Ships?" Olivan repeated with no small surprise. "True ships? I can't imagine how the old wolf managed that. So the Skagosi march with him?"

[Horas]

Lucas shakes his head. "No; look." He leads Olivan through the army towards the waterfront. A number of unwieldly vessels sit on the water, looking like crosses between giant rafts and cargo barges. Their construction looks particularly shoddy, and any true warship looks as if it could rip right through the small fleet. Yet they float, and there are oarholes for propulsion. Several more hulks lay in various states of completion along the waterfront.

"Smugglers come to Hardhome sometimes, you know," Lucas says. "I guess that's how King Tarlan got the idea to hire shipwrights. Paid a fortune in furs and amber and stuff for them and some materials, they say, and had his army cut down trees for lumber." Lucas eyes the ships critically. "Seems to me the fleet at Eastwatch could sink this lot easy enough, but word is the Crows haven't sent out scouts this far in months. Must be scared, I think."

[Ollie]

Olivan could only stare nonplussed at the jury rigged fleet before them. "Unless Tarlan manages to float his logs far enough past Eastwatch without drawing attention, they'll be dead in the water. What does he propose to do with all that? Use them to float his army past the Wall? I can't imagine that could ever happen without the Crows noticing. It boggles the mind, Lucas..."

[Horas]

"I dunno," Lucas answers simply, but before he can go on a shout is raised in the distance. Olivan can see a man on horseback at the head of perhaps five hundred wildlings on foot moving to join the bulk of the army. Others ride out to meet them.

"Looks like the King's back," Lucas says.