Mance overthinks the matter

For A moment Mance put his thought to the matter. He strongly doubted that Ygritte or Gilly where of any thread to the free folk. Gilly could not be blamed to flee from her terrible father-husband away from the Cold to the Wall. Ygritte though... There was no questioning her loyalty to the free folk cause, but her love for the pretty young crow, had been honest and passionate, and he was a man who resprected such feelings but also knew what foolish act they could instill into a young grieving woman. Even though she had spoken often about killing her lately lover, he had been present when Jon Snow died, and had seen the look on her face. It would not be wise too let her near Varamyr Sixkin ever again. Maybe it was even safer for both of them, because Varamyr was one of the people who named the spear wife for a traitor, furious about the two wolves who had been slain by the crow Jon, before Varamyrs giant snowbear opened his chest...

But on the other hand could he be thought of as week and undeceive if he did not punish crow symphantisants... Many people judged his decision to offer the surviving crows a place within the Freefolk as unwise. "They have been our enemy and tormentors for hundreds of generations" some of those crow haters argued. If they would have there mind to be done, all kneelers south of the wall where to be butchered and fed to the wolves. But that was foolstalk. Did they think they could overrun the south with 25 000 fighters? Besides this, was the fact that every slain who could not be burned in time would be added to the host of the Others. "The Cold is coming. bring our child as far south as young can" his wife had whispered bevor she died in her bed of blood. "promise me Mance..." A freezing shiver went through his bones, but he was Mance Raider, King beyond the wall, Leader of the Freefolk, King of the Wall and the only man that stood between his people and loved ones and the terrible blue eyed cold that would consume everyones whose veins where filled with hot blood. He had no time to let grieve overshadow his mind.

"What are we about to do with them?" Tormund repeated his question.

"Well..." Mance started

He had to find a middle ground between the radicals of his people that would lead them into massacre and the rumors of weekness that could destroy his reputation...

"I decide that they are to be... "