Chapter 61: The War for the Dawn

Torrhen didn't know how long it had been since he had fired that first arrow to ignite the bogs, but he had changed archer shifts at least a dozen times since and the sun still hadn't risen. In one way he was thankful as the lack of an undead dragon certainly helped the living, but then he wished for some dragons to come and just incinerate the wights so he could have a proper rest.

Morale everywhere was low. The White Walkers were patient, something that scared Torrhen. They had made a couple of attempts to throw a giant or two at the Winter Gate in order to break through and had even tried flanking the castle. Thankfully, the living had managed to throw those attacks back but looking out into the darkness there was still thousands of bodies out there waiting, and the bogs had just about run out of traps.

As the Stark was currently sat in the courtyard drinking a half bowl of stew, he just felt drained. Cregan Glenmore and Domeric Bolton were with him, but nobody had said more than a handful of words in hours. Cregan Glenmore was the most frustrated at this, and he grumpily threw his hands in the air.

"This is shit." He said childishly. "I thought they were a mindless horde, if this carries on they'll simply starve us out."

Torrhen shook his head. "We'll manage for years if that's their plan." He muttered, though his enthusiasm had all but been depleted.

"We should just ride out." Cregan complained. "Do something."

"We will. But be patient." Domeric said harshly. "Reinforcements aren't far away."

Cregan rolled his eyes. "Fucking Southerners." He muttered. "Should have been here weeks ago."

"Enough." Torrhen said firmly, pushing himself to his feet. "Cregan, go and relieve your brother. If something moves to the North, kill it." It was an order.

Cregan also got to his feet. "Aye, My Lord." He bowed his head and stormed off, leaving Torrhen to just drop his head into his hands.

A hand squeezed his shoulder. "You're doing all you can." Robb's voice came. Torrhen turned to face his older brother and noticed that Robb's beard was growing remarkably unkempt.

"Aye, but not enough." Torrhen sighed.

"The men are just anxious." Domeric explained. "They see the enemy, but other than small pushes they aren't doing… well they aren't doing anything."

"They will." Torrhen said ominously. "They're toying with us."

Robb looked bemused. "Can they think like that?"

"Aye." Torrhen muttered when a single horn blast came. "That FUCKING NOISE!" He roared.

"No, wait." Domeric said, his hand up by his ear. "That came from the South."

Torrhen looked at Domeric, baffled, but he didn't waste more than a moment before he sprinted towards the River Gate just as it had called to be opened. Torrhen withdrew his sword just in case the wights made a play for it, but instead of bones and rotting flesh, horses were stomping up the Kingsroad. Torrhen felt a tear run down his cheek as he saw the banners of House Arryn riding towards them before they turned and rode around the oversized fortress.

"They're riding out to meet them!" Robb cried.

Torrhen didn't know whether to be grateful or curse their stupidity, but he turned to Robb and cried. "Stay here and make sure the foot soldiers get in safely!" He didn't wait for a response as he raced to the other side of the castle and up to the Winter Gate, where Cregan and Arthur Glenmore were watching as the Knights of the Vale crashed into the closest wave of wights. Cheers were cried out from the walls as the riders crashed through the ranks, causing bone and steel to fly out from everywhere. Torrhen could see riders being pulled down, but thankfully most of the riders began to retreat.

"OPEN FIRE!" Torrhen cried out, pulling his bow from over his shoulder and quickly nocking and firing an arrow out, covering the retreat. He heard the gates below them open and saw riders streaming towards the castle below him, and then he saw the rush of the wights. He picked one out, and then another. Whatever tiredness had filled him as replaced by adrenaline as he shot down dozens of wights with Dragonglass arrows, going through at least two full quivers himself. Finally, the gates shut, although the noises of battle hadn't subsided. Torrhen turned away from the North to view down into the courtyard, and he saw a section of Dornish spears, Vale knights and Riverland soldiers all working together to destroy the wights that had made it inside the castle. Feeling a sense of relief once the last wight inside fell, Torrhen slumped against the black walls, and although he was too far away to hear anything, he saw Robb, his Father and Edmure Tully all speaking, a bloodied Yohn Royce dismounting his own horse to join them, his bronze armour shining in the moonlight.

"Tor." A worried voice sounded from behind, and Torrhen turned back around once again to watch as the Night King returned to the front of the horde.

"Don't do it." Torrhen whispered. "BURN THE BODIES! PREPARE FOR THE DEAD TO RISE!" He screamed out at the top of his lungs, grateful that the call was repeated by people up and down the walls. Torrhen desperately hoped that those below had heard the call too, because the Night King looked back up at the castle, and he began to raise his hands.

Seeing the undead wildling that Robb had just killed with a Dragonglass dagger come back to life was probably the scariest thing that the Heir of Winterfell had ever experienced and putting it down again with the same dagger didn't allay his fears. Neither did the feeling of relief moments later when all the dead, both long dead and recently killed, had been put down.

"Get fires on all the bodies!" Robb ordered. "We don't want them back a third time!" He went to grab a torch with a dozen other men and the living began burning as many of the dead as they could before the Night King repeated the trick again. Once the bodies had been lit, only then did Robb feel he could relax as he moved over to the Main Keep and leant heavily against the walls. A water pouch was thrust into his hands, and Robb took a quick drink before pouring some over his face, the freezing cold air causing the water to hurt. He looked around at the men inside the castle and felt happy as the fresher southerners looked to relieve the tired Northmen and Dornish, although his happiness turned to concern when he saw men rushing towards the Karstark held area. He was enraptured as living men came flying off of the walls, and above the parapets he could see thin icy arachnid legs.

"ICE SPIDER!" Somebody cried out in horror, and Robb once more had his Dragonglass weapons at the ready as he rushed towards the Seal Tower. He needn't have bothered however, as he had to dive out the way when the body of Rickard Karstark came flying from the walls and crashed into the courtyard with a sickening thud, closely followed by Torrhen Karstark, although the younger had half of his chest ripped out. Robb gagged at the sight before he threw up over the two bodies, but he wiped his mouth and beard clean and stepped over them and began to climb the steps to the top of the walls when from down the sides, the spider began descending.

"SPEARS!" Oberyn Martell called, and a volley of Dornish lined up awaiting the spider. Robb noticed a terrified set of Riverland soldiers and called over to them.

"FORM UP!" He roared. "SWORDS AT THE READY!" He gripped his daggers tightly as he ran to reinforce Oberyn's men. "On your command." He told the Prince.

"Of course." Oberyn smirked, as the spider got to the ground. On his back was a White Walker with long, white hair.

"Aim for the Walker!" Robb called, and one Dornishman got brave and threw the Dragonglass tipped spear, only for the Walker to smoothly dodge it.

"Hold." Oberyn said firmly as the spider creeped towards them. "Hold! NOW!"

The Dornishmen all lunged at once, and the spider roared as the Dragonglass spears pierced its legs. It didn't drop though, and instead began lashing out with its legs. One by one the Dornishmen fell as the spider's legs pierced their armour, and if the legs didn't get them, then the spider would knock the living towards it and bite. Robb watched on as Oberyn was one of the unlucky ones to be knocked to the ground and have the spider's teeth clamp down on his neck.

"ARROWS!" Robb heard a voice call, and he recognised a Valeman wearing a surcoat from House Hunter pull his men into formation. "FIRE!"

Robb didn't have any time to mourn the Dornishman as he had to dodge the spider's leg when Vale arrows began embedding itself into the beast, and as the spider flailed around, Robb saw an opportunity. He ducked under one leg and thrust his dagger into one of the spider's eyes. The spider cried out in pain, smacking Robb so that he went flying into the walls. Robb collapsed to the ground, coughing and dizzy, as he realised the dagger was still in the spider. As his vision came too he saw the spider crawling towards him, his teeth bared.

"No." Robb wheezed as he pulled out his steel sword, but he ached too much to be quick and the spider bit into Robb's chest. Screaming in pain, Robb thrust as hard as he could into another eye, his steel sword being buried to the hilt. The spider cried out again and collapsed to the floor, twitching. Robb breathed a sigh of relief, although the pain that that caused him was excruciating. He put his hand to his chest and noticed some blue liquid mixed with his blood, but in the corner of his eye he also saw the White Walker get to his feet.

Robb's legs weren't working, and so using his arms he crawled away from the White Walker, who using a blade of ice carved through Lord Hunter and his group, as well as ramming its blade through Helman Tallhart's neck. Robb crawled away, each movement bringing him more pain, when a large figure blocked the path of the Walker.

"You will not harm him." Ser Wylis Manderly growled, and Robb wanted to cry for his wife's Father to just get out the way, but his voice was nothing more than a few croaks. Wylis and the demon clashed swords, only for the castle forged steel of the Manderly heir to shatter into hundreds of pieces. Robb tried to cry out, but nothing left his lips as the White Walker plunged his blade deep into Wylis Manderly's chest. Finally, a strangled cry left Robb as Wylis' body was flung away, and the White Walker came closer to Robb, only for a great blur of grey fur to come crashing into the Walker, and an oversized blade followed, smashing it into thousands of shards of ice.

"Robb!" Ned Stark cried, as Grey Wind got back to his feet and walked over to Robb, nuzzling him. Robb grimaced in pain as his chest blazed in agony. "Help him up!" Ned roared at somebody, and Robb screamed at the pain as he was forced to his feet and placed on Grey Wind's back. "Get him to Luwin!" Robb grimaced at the movement as he was marched away, and he didn't get far before the pain became too much and his mind slipped into unconsciousness.

On top of the walls Torrhen didn't know what was happening down on the ground behind him as he was too busy firing arrows down on the wights that had decided to try and climb over others to reach the tops of the walls. He hadn't seen the manner of how the wights clawed into each other to climb higher at Winterfell, so it was a mix of disgust and horror in his mind as he fired the obsidian arrows from his Weirwood bow.

He was about to fire what must have been his hundredth arrow in a row when all of a sudden the climbers collapsed, as hundreds of wights exploded into bones. Realising that a Walker must have died, Torrhen once again led the cheers, although tentatively he peered over the edge, noticing that the surviving wights had just stood up and stopped.

"Something's happening." Cregan whispered, panting from the exertion. Torrhen agreed but didn't say anything as his eyes went to the Night King who made himself visible once more.

"Ready yourselves." Torrhen commanded firmly, as he nocked one more arrow. The Stark gazed out as the Night King rode slowly on his undead horse up the Kingsroad, stopping about 100 yards away. He dismounted and slowly walked a few yards closer before stopping again. "What are you up to." Torrhen whispered.

That became evident quickly, as the Night King was surrounded by ten wights joining him from the walls of Moat Cailin. The Night King grabbed one of them, and as if they were possessed, the wights began to shake and cry out before they collapsed into heaps. The Night King then knelt to the ground and pressed the palm of his hand against the snowy road.

A jet of blue ice shot across the ground, cracking the Kingsroad open as it flew towards the Winter Gate. Torrhen could tell what was going to happen as soon as he saw it, and he pushed Cregan away shouting. "MOVE AWAY FROM THE GATE!" As the jet of icy magic collided with the gates, the floor beneath Torrhen erupted in a loud bang. Cregan turned back and grabbed Torrhen, the Glenmore safe on the battlements as the floor beneath Torrhen caved, the Stark barely hanging on to Cregan's arm as he crashed chest first into stone brick. Grimacing, he caught his bearings before he began to climb up the wall, lying flat on his back as he made it back to the top. He caught his breath and sat upwards, noticing a 10 feet gap in the wall where he had just been standing. Looking down he saw in horror that the gates had exploded inwards and dozens of bodies lay on the floor having been impaled or crushed by the gates and rubble of the Winter Gate.

"Tor, get up!" Cregan urged, and Torrhen was hoisted up unceremoniously. He was still dazed and his head was ringing, and he thought he could feel blood trickling down his face. "Tor! We need you down there!"

His sword. Torrhen nodded, wiping the blood off his face. He handed Cregan his bow and withdrew Winter's Bite. "Don't lose that." He said, his words slurring slightly, and without a response he raced down to the nearest stairwell.

Once he got to the bottom the chaos had grown. The horde of wights were streaming into the courtyard through the gap in the walls. As Torrhen stumbled towards the lines of defence he saw Roose Bolton's body with chunks of bloody wood sticking out of it propped up against a wagon. His vision began to return to normal once he pushed past a couple of injured Dornishmen and carved open a wight, and then his bones went cold as a White Walker stepped into the castle.

He wasn't the first to meet it. One of the Sand Sisters, Torrhen didn't know which, engaged the demon with a whip, wrapping the leather around the Walker's arms and rushing towards it with a Dragonglass dagger, only for the whip to freeze and shatter and the girl to lose her head with the swing of an icy blade. A cry of anguish followed as Quentyn Martell then charged in, only for his spear to be snapped and for the Walker to backhand him away, causing the Martell to crumple against the stone walls. More and more men charged, hoping to be the one to kill the demon, but all fell before it. Torrhen recognised Tytos Blackwood and Jonos Bracken try to double team the White Walker, only for both of them to end up bleeding in the snow, lifeless. One of the Corbray brothers rushed in, only for his sword to shatter as the Walker parried before the Corbray was impaled and kicked away.

The other brother, who Torrhen noticed must have been Lyn due to the Valyrian Steel sword in his grip, rushed in at that moment just as Torrhen plunged Winter's Bite into a wight, driving it backwards to impale one more before he retrieved his sword. The Stark looked back to see the rage filled blows rain down on the White Walker from Lady Forlorn, with one connecting icy skin and the Walker shattered into thousands of pieces, closely followed by hundreds of wights inside Moat Cailin. A cheer went up from the living, but behind the shattered walker came hundreds more wights, colliding into Lyn Corbray and ripping him to pieces. Torrhen was beginning to lose all hope, when a roar from behind distracted him and he turned to see a number of cavalry rush forwards towards the breach, led by Jaime Lannister and the Bronze Yohn.

Torrhen grinned as the horses whizzed past him, the collisions taking out all the wights in the way as they rushed out of the breach. Torrhen lifted up Winter's Bite and roared a rallying cry, hoping that enough men would follow him as he followed the horses out into the open North.

They did. The death of the White Walker at Lyn Corbray's hands mixed with the sight of hundreds of wights dropping all at once inspired many, and soon a large number of the combined Westerosi forces streamed out of Moat Cailin to defend the breach. Torrhen hacked and slashed away at anything that dared run up towards him, Winter's Bite singing as it cut open the remnants of the dead, and all around him the living rallied, defending the castle.

That was when the Ice Spiders were sent in. Torrhen watched in horror as from beyond the horde of wights half a dozen of the large arachnids reared and charged for them. He heard the call of a retreat and couldn't help but agree as he slashed out hopefully taking as many wights as he could out before he bolted back for the open space that was once the Winter Gate. He felt hands grab him as he was pulled into a hug, and as he pushed away worried for his life he noticed his Father.

"Get to the walls!" Ned urged, and Torrhen didn't need telling twice. Slashing at some wights that were still inside the castle he pushed his way to the Giant's Tower and made his way up to the walls. Once he got there he noticed that Arya was still firing arrows along with one of the Mormont sisters. She grinned when she noticed him before returning to fire her bow. Torrhen meanwhile leant against the parapet and wiped his face of blood again before he stared out at the scene below him.

The spiders were gaining and a new horde of wights were close behind. Torrhen audibly groaned as he saw that, and he moved so his back was against the parapet and sunk to the stone floor. "Get up!" He heard Arya say before she smacked his arm. "We're still fighting!"

"We can't beat that." Torrhen cried out, trying to shove her away. He was all but ready to bury his head in his knees and weep, when the most beautiful sound he thought he had ever heard filled the air, screeching.

"YES!" Arya screamed, and Torrhen got to his feet and turned around, watching as the spiders had been incinerated by a brand-new stream of fire. Torrhen stared around for the source, and a moment later a green and bronze dragon had another strafing run, blasting hundreds of wights to cinders.

"Jon." Torrhen whispered, ready to break down emotionally as two more jets of fire followed from the other two dragons. "Dany…"

"Look!" Arya pointed towards the distance, and Torrhen squinted so he could see into the dark past the flames. Sure enough there was something there, an onrush of thousands of cavalry with banners flapping in the air. "The King is here!"

After defeating the Ironborn the armies of the South had sailed up towards the Fever river and docked as close to Moat Cailin as they could. The few thousand horses that they had were given to the best riders to lead the initial attack, although Bran was currently sat on one mount as he watched the Southerners stream towards the burning bogs of Moat Cailin. After the cavalry, the armies of the West, led by Tyrion's cousin Tyrek wielding Red Rain, and the Reach, led by Lord Loras, were racing into the fray, before finally the Stormlanders and the Crownlanders, led by Renly and Bran respectively. He heard a neigh coming from behind him, and Ser Davos pulled up on his own horse.

"This looks horrific." The blunt knight commented.

Bran agreed. "Are you ready?"

Davos snorted. "Not a chance, but I'll follow you all the same."

Bran looked at the Onion Knight and nodded the once before he lowered his visor on his helmet and withdrew Nightfall. "Let's kill the undead fuckers." He snarled, kicking his horse into a gallop and charging into the battle.