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The cold air is making you shiver all over under the black cloaks you are wearing. Although the coat was heavy and very cozy, the cold of that region was frighteningly invincible. Maybe even a person on fire felt cold in that place. You being a northerner were already used to the cold, but that was unbelievable. You shudder to imagine what it is like beyond the Wall at the far north.

Following the King's road to the Wall, you and five other men shiver in the murky northern chill. A Stark guard led the way ahead mounted on a red sorrel, and you were behind him, on the back of a stallion, clinging to another prisoner who was in the same situation as you. The man you held yourself to was probably older than you, since he had a frayed goatee on his hard face. On your left side rides another man, obscure under the hood of his cloak. He was also a prisoner. Behind you, two Stark guards followed, exchanging a few words with each other. There were six men in all, counting on you. Three prisoners, three guards.