Is, Jon corrected. He would not accept that Benjen Stark was dead.
Before he could say more, Haider cried, Here, you planning to drink that all yourself?
Pyp snatched the skin from his hand and danced away, laughing.
While Grenn seized his arm, Pyp gave the skin a squeeze, and a thin stream of red squirted Jon in the face.
Haider howled in protest at the waste of good wine. Jon sputtered and struggled.
Matthar and Jeren climbed the wall and began pelting them all with snowballs.
By the time he wrenched free, with snow in his hair and wine stains on his surcoat, Samwell Tarly had gone.
That night, Three-Finger Hobb cooked the boys a special meal to mark the occasion.
When Jon arrived at the common hall, the Lord Steward himself led him to the bench near the fire.
The older men clapped him on the arm in passing.
The eight soon-to-be brothers feasted on rack of lamb baked in a crust of garlic and herbs, garnished with sprigs of mint, and surrounded by mashed yellow turnips swimming in butter.
From the Lord Commander's own table, Bowen Marsh told them.
There were salads of spinach and chickpeas and turnip greens, and afterward bowls of iced blueberries and sweet cream.
Do you think they'll keep us together?
Pyp wondered as they gorged themselves happily.