Been bringing men to the Wall for close on thirty years. Froth shone on Yoren's lips, like bubbles of blood. "All that time, I only lost three. Old man died of a fever, city boy got snakebit taking a shit, and one fool tried to kill me in my sleep and got a red smile for his trouble." He drew the dirk across his throat, to show her. "Three in thirty years." He spat out the old sourleaf. "A ship now, might have been wiser. No chance o' finding more men on the way, but still... clever man, he'd go by ship, but me... thirty years I been taking this kingsroad." He sheathed his dirk. "Go to sleep, boy. Hear me?"