Cyberdyne of the Night's Watch

Chapter 5

Jon gripped the dried, salted venison with his jaw and ripped a chunk off. He chewed slowly; the meat was tougher than boiled leather and about as flavorful. Provisions at the Wall were scarce, so beggars could not afford to be choosers. But at least it wasn't rotten; there were many in the Seven Kingdoms who had to eat worse on a daily basis. Ghost, sitting at Jon's feet, certainly thought the meat was appealing; he licked his chops and never took his eyes off of it.

Over the crackling fire, Jon looked over at Cyberdyne. His companion sat completely still gazing off into the darkness of the trees beyond their campsite. Only his eyes moved, constantly darting back and forth like he was searching for something in the night. They swallowed the firelight, and his black pupils seemed to glow red. "You should eat something," Jon said, noticing that Cyberdyne wasn't trying to gnaw his way through a piece of jerky as well. "It's a long journey to Winterfell, and you're going to need your strength." He reached into his pack and pulled out some more provisions. "There's a goat's milk cheese here, and some not-too-stale bread..."

"I do not require food for sustenance," Cyberdyne said without looking at Jon. His eyes continued to search the darkness.

Jon shook his head. At first, these cryptic statements were mysterious and a little endearing, but now it was just annoying. He couldn't get a clear answer from Cyberdyne about anything, and half the time it was just garbled nonsense. "Just relax and have some dinner, Cyberdyne. Ghost here is on guard duty." He rubbed the direwolf's white ears. "He'll alert us if anything is out there. And I don't want to have to drag you all the way to Winterfell," Jon told Cyberdyne. "So: eat."

Without another word, Cyberdyne picked up the crust of dry bread and chewed through it with a crunch that echoed through the clearing. The bread itself cracked like stone and crumbled into a thousand pieces. Jon laughed: "A bit stale?"

Cyberdyne smiled back, looking more like a dog baring its fangs. "Yes. Stale."

Jon took another bite of his meat, hoping to avoid having to eat his own portion of bread. Cyberdyne continued to gnaw his way through the crust. They ate together in silence, listening to the wind coming off the slopes of the Northern Mountains punctuated only by Cyberdyne's cracking bites.

"We ought to change your bandages," Jon said after getting a glimpse of the brownish wrapping under Cyberdyne's robes. The bandages had been boiled clean at Castle Black, but a long day on the road kicks up a lot of dust. "You don't want to get an infection. Worst thing that can happen on a journey, my father always said."

"The risk of infection in my living tissue is minimal," Cybderyne answered. "I cauterized the sides of the..."

"Enough, Cyberdyne," Jon broke in. "I've seen enough wounds in my day to know that you need to change that bandage. I even had Maester Luwin teach me a few things back at Winterfell." Even as a boy, Jon had known that he'd eventually have to find his own path. Robb would go on to rule Winterfell, and there would be no place for Jon anymore. Before deciding to go to the wall with his uncle Benjen, he had once upon a time considering becoming a Maester. Turns out that he was far better at making wounds than healing them, though. "Come on, off with your cloak."

Cyberdyne did as he was commanded, shedding his cloak and tossing it into the dirt. Jon set his food down and came over to sit next to Cyberdyne. He gently unwound the bandage, revealing the gash in Cyberdyne's shoulder. It had been neatly sewn up, better than the stitching that he'd seen from Septa Mordane, who had taught Sansa and Arya back at Winterfell. "Did Master Aemon do this?" Jon asked. As much faith as he had in Castle Black's maester, it wasn't really a secret that he had tremors of the hand. They'd been asking for an apprentice from Old Town for some time now, but those in the South seemed to turn a blind eye whenever ravens from the Wall came in.