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Chapter 37 – War for the Dawn Part 1
Mole's Town, the North…
Screams echoed across the dark night as the people of the small town, ran from the demonic horde that had descended on them. A woman with a babe in her arms ran while her husband, the local blacksmith swung his hammer in a desperate attempt to give his wife and child time to escape, the wights charged at him relentlessly and although he managed to cave the skull of one of the undead the rest were too much for him and both teeth and daggers tore into him.
A young boy that might have once joined the Night's Watch huddled in the corner hoping to be missed by the wights and their masters but it was all for nothing as the wights discovered him. He wildly swung a broken chair at them, his heart pounding and his eyes wide in terror. A wight snow bear prowled around him before it leapt forward and his screams as the bear tore him apart filled the night air.
The Night King rode forward on his undead horse and raised his arms high into the air, calling on his power over the dead and ordering them to rise and fight at his command. All over the village and desecrated corpses of the former inhabitants rose even the now armless boy, slowly at first with their eyes now glowing the same unsettling shade of blue as the creatures that had killed them.
-x-
Shadow Tower, the Wall…
Cotter Pyke and Denys Mallister rode faster than either of them had ever ridden before to try and reach the castle and warn them that the Wall had been breached and the White Walkers were coming. The poor horses struggled to keep pace with their riders demands as they forced their way through the snow, their hot breath easily visible in the cold air.
The men that rode them finally got sight of the Shadow Tower and were about to breathe a sigh of relief when a sudden roar stopped them, both physically and mentally. Neither of them had heard a sound like it before in all their years before and after joining the Night's Watch. They looked around for the source of the noise and seeing nothing they started moving cautiously forward only to stop again when they saw something descend out of the sky. Their eyes were wide with terror at the sheer sight of the creature.
It was enormous, easily bigger than any war galley that either of them had ever seen. From the tip of the tail to the snout it had to be easily seventy feet long and though its body looked like pale blue ice it flew through the air faster than any bird the two men knew of and then a second one just as big followed it as they dived down, Cotter and Denys were powerless to do anything but watch as the creatures swooped down on the Shadow Tower and opened their enormous mouths.
Even with the cold wind around them they could feel the icy blast that emerged from the dragons' mouths, it was like a concentrated burst of fire that froze instead of burnt. The screams of the men in the castle were cut short as they were instantly frozen in such a cold temperature that nothing warm blooded could possibly survive.
Cotter and Denys were paralyzed in their disbelief over what had just happened. Neither could quite believe it and watched as the two creatures that could only be Ice Dragons flew away in separate directions.
Cotter who was Iron Born by birth and Denys who was from the Riverlands swallowed as they were confronted with creatures that they had only ever heard about in the strangest legends. They had of course heard of the dragons that House Targaryen now again commanded but these blue dragons were not like them. They created cold rather than heat and in the mind of both men they could only be the fabled Ice Dragons that lived in the White Waste and Shivering Sea. Despite what they had seen at Castle Black it still was not quite real but neither man could deny the facts that were right in front of them.
Cotter urged his horse on in hopes of getting to Eastwatch so that he could evacuate his men before the Ice Dragons visited them too if he was not too late. Denys meanwhile with his white beard blowing in the wind rode onwards to the Shadow Tower, wrapping himself up as warm as he could. He might have been too late to save his men but he was damned if he would allow the fucking Walkers to have their corpses. He decided to ignite the oil stored in the castle and burn the whole place down. His grim duty was one that he realised many were going to have to do in the coming days.
-x-
Across the North panic spread as news of the Wall's collapse arrived in towns, villages and castles. Men, women and children all fled their homes to the towns and castles protected by high walls and begged for sanctuary. The lords were at a lost at what to do, so many people who drain their resources so quickly but if they left them outside, the Walkers would take them and swell the ranks of the army of the dead.
Many chose to let them in as long as they would contribute in whatever way they could for the defence of each stronghold.
Near Last Hearth…
The potion of the Umber army moved through the snow as they went towards a village north of the castle to investigate why the women and children had not come to them in preparation for the battles to come. The leader of the army was Mors Umber, an old uncle to the current lord and a man of many years' experience. But nothing could prepare him for what he and his men discovered when they arrived.
The village was near completely buried in snow, the people that had once lived here completely absent. Mors was feeling more than a little unsettled remembering this village from his youth having lost his virginity here to a local farm girl and spent many good nights in the local tavern. The sight of it buried in unnaturally high levels of snow with no sign of anyone alive brought a shiver that had nothing to do with extreme cold. He was about to turn around and have his men search the area for any possible survivors when one of them cried out in surprise. Everyone turned to look and saw with horror that hands had shot out from the snow and were grasping the leg of the soldier who desperately tried to free his leg but with no success. Then worst emerged from the snow as heads shot up and began stripping the flesh from the soldier's bones as they bit at his with rabid teeth. The Soldier cried out in pain but there was nothing that the rest of the men could do to help him as they found themselves surrounded by animated corpses. Some men were caught so by surprise that they were helpless against the wights and were either stabbed or bitten to death while some managed to get their weapons out and began swinging almost wildly in an attempt to defend themselves against the unexpected threat.
Mors was one of them, his trusty greatsword that had been at his side during every fight he had ever participated in taking the heads of wights who dared attack him. He managed to slain enough of them to turn to his brother Hother who likewise was doing his best to hold off the wights and shouted to him.
"Hother get back to Last Hearth! Warn them that the enemy is at our door, I will hold them off!" His voice was not panicked despite knowing he would almost certainly die. He had come to terms with this a long time ago when his own sons had died fighting for the fat fuck Robert Baratheon against the Targaryens and his only daughter had been carried off by wildlings over thirty years ago. All that loss had only hardened his resolve to protect what family he had left even if it meant his own death.
Hother looked ready to argue with his brother, wanting to fight at his side as they had done so many times before but like his brother he knew this fight would be different. A quick look around him revealed their men being torn apart by reanimated villagers and even more were now emerging from the village, leaving them clearly out matched. With a final nod to his brother and vowing to avenge him, Hother ran to his horse after cleaving the head of a wight clean off and leapt into the saddle with a strength and agility that was surprising for a man of his years. He then took off as fast as his steed could carry him while Mors and the few men that remained did all they could to shield his escape.
As more of his men fell around him, Mors with his old muscles aching more than they had ever done before kept on fighting against the wights in a hopeless battle to the bitter end. Knives and teeth impaled him but he with the strength of a giant forced himself to fight on, taking the heads of any wight that came close enough to attack him. His breath was laboured and his heart was thundering in his chest as he kept going, pushing his body well past any limit he ever had before. Sweat despite the cold forming on his forehead only to freeze a moment after. With blood flowing from his leg, back and left arm, Mors quickly found himself surrounded by the wights which he dared with his eyes blazing to come closer.
"COME ON! YOU WANT MY LIFE? THEN COME AND TAKE IT!" Mors yelled out at the top of his voice, wondering if the cowards were just going to wait for him to freeze to death when ten of them charged again, attacking from every angle with knives that they had carried in life or just their teeth and hands if they had nothing. Mors without fear kept on swinging his greatsword, determined to take as many of these undead fuckers with him as possible. He took a few down before the endless number of daggers and teeth began to tear into him. Mors with his final act of strength pulled a bottle of ale that he always carried with him to stay warm in the cold nights threw it at the wights attacking him and with his only good arm, struck a piece of flint from his belt against the only dry part of sword. The sparks ignited to the slow burning ale that now covered both him and a couple of wildlings and only then did Mors find a dagger going through his throat.
-x-
Last Hearth…
The small party from the Wall finally arrived at the ancestral castle of House Umber after riding through the night, the aching and exhausted bones of Jeor Mormont and his son Jorah as they finally reached the castle gates were glad to find them already open with the GreatJon and his son the SmallJon standing there with weapons in hand to greet them. The GreatJon was his usual boisterous self at the sight of Jeor, a friend for the better part of over thirty years.
"Jeor, it is good to see you! We were worried that you might have perished at Castle Black, your man Edd told us what happened as he passed through." GreatJon said with a smile and gave Jeor a manly hug that could well have popped Jeor's arms out of their sockets had he not been so strongly built. Jeor hugged the GreatJon back but was in no mood to waste time and when he noticed the suspicious looks that were being sent Jorah's way he was about to speak up on his behalf when a man on a horse rode through the castle gates. Everyone turned to look who had just appeared and saw that it was Hother Umber who like his horse looked ready to drop. But before he did she managed to say.
"The village is gone, the Walkers have it. Mors is dead they are all…dead." Hother then ran out of energy and collapsed into a heap on the floor. Everyone looked at the man in shock for a second before men rushed to his aid.
A short while later, now with everyone looking very sombre in the solar of Lord Umber the Mormont men met with the GreatJon and the SmallJon to discuss what had happened at the Wall while at the side Dacey looked at her uncle and her cousin with suspicion directed squarely at Jorah who she remembered had nearly brought their house to ruin. She had seen the debt that he had left them with before fleeing, one that could have ended them all had it not been for the charity of House Stark who had bought it from the Iron Bank and allowed them to pay it off slowly. She honestly wished he had never come back after all the pain and weight he had put on her mother's shoulders but she was far to disciplined and the matter at hand far too grave to speak such thoughts out loud. Now with all of them up to speed on events Jeor got straight to the point.
"If they have reached the outlying villages then they will be here in days. Whatever defences can be prepared…well we have to start now." Jeor said with Jorah nodding at his side.
The SmallJon however cut in. "We already have, the residents of the local towns and villages now shelter within our walls and we have enough food stocked to last for a month to feed them all if needed. We can handle these creatures. And certainly without the help of slavers." He added looking at Jorah.
The statement brought a look of derision to the faces of the Mormont men who did not laugh but instead Jeor stood up walked over to Dacey before taking Longclaw from his waist and pressing it into her hands. Dacey looked at her uncle shocked as their family sword rested in her hands knowing full well what it meant. Jorah then spoke, as if to explain to the SmallJon the significance.
"When the Walkers come and rest assured they will breach this castle eventually, you will need that sword. You were always the best swordswoman in our house and it is only fitting it should be you."
Dacey only managed to look at the bear headed pommel when the warning horn that alerted the castle it was under attack sounded. All five people in the room rushed at once to the battlements where a sight that chilled them to the bones.
The castle was completely surrounded by wights of all kinds that completely encircled the castle. They did not seem to charge however, content to allow the living in the castle to starve or freeze to death.
Well Jorah thought grimly, that was the good option the bad option being something that none of them wanted to think about.
That they were waiting for something to break this siege.
-x-
Eastwatch-By-The-Sea, the Wall…
Cotter was desperately uncomfortable as he forced his horse to ride faster through the snow to get to his castle in time to stop his men being massacred like the men at Castle Black and Shadow Tower had been. He was a harsh man by nature, the bastard son of a tavern wench who had been forced to join the Watch due to his violent temper but he had made his home here…at the watch and would rather die in a face to face fight with the Walkers then being frozen to death by those fucking monstrosities and he knew his men would feel the same. They might hate him and he them but they were a band of brothers, the only real bond he had ever really had with anyone and they deserved the chance to save themselves.
Finally coming into sight of Eastwatch he looked around and saw no sights of trouble. No roars of dragons, the men were openly moving on the castle walls all it seemed was well for the moment at least.
He urged his struggling horse on until he arrived at the gates of Eastwatch which opened for him immediately and he wasted no time as the men in the yard turned to face him.
"Our brothers at Castle Black and Shadow Tower have fallen, it is only a matter of time before the Walkers come for us and the other castles. Lord Commander Mormont has ordered for us all to go south to reinforce the Northern castles with our steel." Cotter said to the men present, some looking only too glad to leave the Wall and head south although they were shocked to hear that the strongest castles in the Nights Watch had fallen except for them. Any of the smaller castles would not have stood a chance if those castles had already fallen and while some did not like the idea of running away they would obey the orders of their lord commander so they rushed to spread the word and pack to leave.
For a moment Cotter believed that everything might turn out for the better and that he had beaten the odds however as a sailor he should truly have remembered how fickle a mistress fate was, a fact that moments later was proved true.
A roar brought a look of horror to his face as he turned around and saw one of the gigantic blue dragons descend from the heavy clouds and Cotter could only close his eyes and wish that the Drowned God would find him even though his body would never touch the ocean again.
The Ice Dragon swooped down and smashed down on Cotter, squashing him like a bug. Blood splattered across the yard as the dragon snarled, terrifying the men out of their wits causing them to run around in a complete panic as they tried to escape the massive beast. An icy blast from its mouth stopped many of them on the run while many more were swept aside by a swing of its enormous tail which easily smashed clean through the wooden walls of the castle, collapsing the gate and sealing the men inside. Screams echoed all around the castle as the men were slaughtered by icy blasts from its mouth or the vicious swings of the tail, or being thrown into the air before being swallowed whole by the enormous beast.
-x-
Along the Wall it was a similar story at all the other castles of the Night's Watch, only recently reopened with an increased number of men sent north by other kingdoms and the prisoners who had chosen the Wall as a punishment for being on the wrong side in the recent civil war.
Woodswatch-By-The-Pool, Queensgate and Stonedoor all found themselves under attack by the enormous ice dragons, creatures against which they had no defence. The men of Queensgate were lucky as they received the warning to evacuate only twenty minutes before the dragons came from Bowen Marsh. They watched as the unstoppable monsters froze their castle with their deadly breath while thanking the gods for the near escape. They fled south, deciding to head to Karhold to bolster its defences.
Elsewhere the story was less happy; Woodswatch was hit with the full fury of two great ice dragons which slaughtered the entire garrison to the last man while at Stonedoor, a hundred men fled while the rest of their comrades perished in the dragon's attack. Those men would head to White Harbour if only to put as much distance between them and the dragons as possible and bolster the garrison of the North's largest port.
But the worst was to come, as the Night King riding atop another of the dragons descended on the four castles that his dragons had destroyed and with a raising of his arms, commanded them with his disturbing power to rise from the dead and join his army. Damaged and frozen corpses began to climb out of the wreckage and lumber towards him, making a strange grim smile come to his face. He had been disappointed as the smoking ruins of the other two had yielded no useable fodder for his army of the dead but never the less he thought to himself as he turned his dragon south.
There would soon be more.
-x-
Ashwood, the North…
Outside the small castle of Ashwood, the army of the house of the same name stood ready to meet the wights and their masters in head to head combat. Their men were grim but confident. Their Lord Archiban was dressed in his full armour with his sons and brothers at his side, determined that this time events would not pass him by as they had before.
His house was of small size with a small holdfast to their name and moderate but unspectacular lands to go with it. The last few wars had passed him and his house by with nothing to show for it but they had not truly lost anything either. While other houses had risen to prominence or fallen into obscurity his had stayed exactly as they were, a small house with small lands that had an unremarkable record and looked set to be forgotten by history.
That might have been alright with some of his ancestors but it did not sit well with Archiban. He had hoped that his house might have at least won additional lands or titles in the last war, maybe another castle to create a cadet branch under one of his older sons or brothers but they had contributed little towards the Stark war effort and been passed over for those who had invested more in the conflict. It brought a dark frown to Archiban's face but he was determined to not be overlooked again hence why he was meeting the wights in a full field battle.
The letters sent across the North had said that fire was the most effective weapon to use against the wights and that pouring oil from the walls of a castle or walled town was the best option other than pelting them with flaming arrows. Archiban however was determined to make a more noteworthy stand against the wights and instead of hiding behind the walls of his castle he would meet the enemy on the open plain and slaughter them after all he thought to himself what danger could a few rotten corpses pose to him and his men?
That was until he looked at the other end of the field and saw the mass of wights emerge from the forest that gave his home its name. The sight of them froze him and his men as they were confronted with the reality of what they were facing for the first time, the way the wights just lumbered onto the field like animals with no sense of intelligence or awareness. This held Archiban and his men still in complete shock and fear until the wights charged.
The men at the front of the Ashwood lines had no chance at all, the wights with either weapons, claws or teeth tore into them with a frenzied intensity. Some men took off in a panic while others rallied their courage and charged forward swinging swords, spears and axes forgetting in the heat of the moment that they had to decapitate the wights to kill them. Aiming for the chests, legs or arms with no co-ordination the men were shocked to see the wights shrug off the steel and retaliate with deadly intend. Screams of men filled the air and Archiban found himself and the rest of his men surrounded by wights with no way out. Realising as they closed in the doom that he had brought upon his family only moments before a wight snow bear leapt on him and his horse, his screams joining the mass of cries as the wights pushed inward slaughtering the men where they stood.
The moment the screams stopped and the last man died a Walker emerged from the forest and onto the field. He raised him arms much like the Night King would if he were present and after a brief moment, the corpses of the slaughtered men began to stir.
They rose slowly as if adjusting to their new condition, stumbling to their feet. Their eyes opening slowly to reveal the unnatural blue of their eyes, swelling the number of wights by hundreds who at the direction of the Walker who raised them turned towards Ashwood castle.
The wights lumbered forward followed by giants resurrected by wights, the gates of the castle closed for the battle were hammered by the giants while the few men that had remained in the castle pouring arrows and oil down on the wights in an attempt to force them away but many in a panic either forgot to ignite the arrows or missed their targets. The giants soon broke through the wooden gates of the castle and the wights streamed into the castle like a vicious swarm.
Screams of men and women that had taken shelter within the castle echoed through the air as the wights commenced their slaughter, not caring if they were weak and elderly, young or grown killing them with complete abandon. Lady Ashwood with her youngest son cradled in her arm, hid in the rooms she shared with her husband humming a lullaby to her child while she hid, hoping that the creatures that had attacked her home might miss her. That was until the animated corpse of her husband came to the door of their room and as if driven by some remnant of memory entered the room.
-x-
Goldgrass, the North…
Wights swarmed towards the gates of the small stone castle as on the walls, men and women desperately threw down arrow fire, burning oil and even stones to try and force the dead to abandon the attack on the castle but the wights charged in wave after wave regardless.
Yara Grey joy was leading their desperate defence, everything that she had once dismissed as fairy tales and the boasts of drunken sailors from her old home seemed to be revealed as pure fact these days she thought bitterly. When she had received the letter about the coming of the White Walkers she had dismissed it as an old man's delusions only to have to eat humble pie when they had attacked her own castle in the early hours of the morning. She did not want to show it or even admit it to anyone, even herself but she was terrified. More than she had ever been in her entire life as the dead literally came to kill them all and take their corpses. The people around her were equally fearful but with no other choice, they stayed at their posts despite there being no end in sight.
No matter how many the wights the defenders killed, they never seemed to stop coming. On the Walls Yara had strapped her sword to her back and was using a crossbow to try and pick off a wight or two after setting the tip of the arrow on fire. It did work she thought with some small measure of satisfaction but to her dismay the wight she had just killed was replaced by three more and although their reinforced gate would keep them out for now it would only be a matter of time before they got in somehow. For once she was glad that she had listened to her head, rather than her pride and remained within the castle walls rather than meet the creatures on the battle field. It would have surely meant the end of all of people in the castle if they had not had the castle's walls to hide behind. She could at least be grateful for that.
Then just as she thought they might have a chance she saw a lumbering creature stomping its way through the swarm of wights towards the castle gates. It was easily the ugliest thing that Yara had ever seen and that was saying something she thought to herself, with grey skin and a face that looked like it had been shaped from very lumpy clay by a three year old. However the large club that it was dragging behind it made Yara's heart stop for a brief moment and the breath catch in her throat as she realised that the creature could bash through the gate with relative ease and she turned to the men manning the weapon emplacements on the walls.
"BALLISTA!" She yelled to the men on the large crossbows, they turned away from firing their large bolts to give her their attention. "BRING THAT CREATURE DOWN!" She pointed wildly at the approaching troll although she did not know that name. The Ballista that could swung around and targeted the troll, dipping the tips of their bolts in what oil that they had left before setting them ablaze and firing.
Yara's heart sank as the first three shots missed the large, slow creature but then one of the oldest of her soldiers, a stonemason by trade with a hand as steady as steel lined up and with his son loading and then lighting the bolt, fired straight into the creature's heart or what they hoped was its heart. It did not matter though as the fire finished what the bolt could not. The troll was instantly engulfed in flame and fell burning to the ground.
A cheer sounded as her people celebrated the small victory, Yara even allowed herself a smile as she considered that they might have a chance yet. That was until she saw Ygritte, the best archer that she had ever seen and her lover run up looked both worried and frustrated.
"We're running out of arrows and we only have two barrels of oil left. We need to find the Walker leading this attack. We kill him and his army drops dead!" Ygritte told her, Yara suddenly felt angry as she looked at the woman that shared her bead.
"That might have been good to know if you had told me fucking hours ago!" Yara shouted but Ygritte had only enough time to stand there looking defiant before a spear flew from nowhere into a wildling woman that had been manning the walls. Morna White Mask who was sent flying from the castle walls straight into the courtyard by the sheer strength of the strike. Both Yara and Ygritte ducked and dared only to peer over the edge of the wall when they both saw it.
Yara's eyes were fixed on the strange creature that she had only heard of in the oldest fables. It stood at least seven foot tall with the greyest skin and white hair but what really unsettled Yara was the strange blue eyes that seemed to radiate with an unearthly cold that she could feel even from here. Her mind went blank for a moment as she struggled to accept the existence of the creature in front of her. Had she not seen the Great Kraken that had saved her life she would have remained paralyzed for longer. Turning to Ygritte she asked quickly, any trace of anger no gone.
"What can kill them? Fire?"
Ygritte shook her head before answering with fear in her own eyes. "No! They are so cold it does not affect them. We need Valyrian steel or dragonglass to kill one. DO WE HAVE ANY DRAGONGLASS ARROW TIPS LEFT?" Ygritte called out to the people around her and for a moment there was silence as everyone, slightly confused at the request quickly started looking around and for a moment both women's hearts sank as it looked like they had none left but then a stable boy who had been helping load the ballista ran forward with the last dragonglass arrow in the entire castle in his hand. He handed it carefully to Ygritte who placed in in her Weirwood bow and with Yara's blessing went to take the shot.
"Make it count!" Yara said but Ygritte did not hear her as she zoned out and focused all her attention on what could well be the most important shot of her life. Time seemed to slow as she took aim, the Walker either unaware of her or just did not care paid her no attention. Ygritte's breath caught in her throat as she expelled her doubts and concentrated on what she had to do. Drawing the string back she corrected for the wind without even thinking about it, born of vast experience and let the arrow fly.
Everyone that was watching held their breath as the arrow flew through the air towards the Walker who himself was getting ready to throw another spear, this one straight at Ygritte not caring about the arrow, thinking it a simple thing of stone or steel and no threat to him.
That was until the arrow impacted, driving straight into the Walker's frozen heart. The Walker stopped trying to throw his spear immediately as he tried to dislodge of the arrow from his chest but the damage was already done as his grey skin began turning into brittle ice that was then turning into snow that was pulled apart by the wind. The process only took a few seconds but the sight was incredible to watch as was what happened to the wights.
When their Walker had finally dissolved into pale snow, the wights stopped still for a moment as the magic that held their strings up suddenly stopped and then they all simply collapsed onto the snow covered ground. There was silence as the people on the walls went from sure they were going to die and being absolutely terrified to elation as the battle that had seemed hopeless was won.
A cheer rose in the cold night air and people hugged and shouted out in joy over the victory. Ygritte herself while being surrounded by well-wishers was in complete shock, she had managed to kill one of the creatures that had preyed on her people for centuries. It was something to boast of for sure but right now she was still in slight shock.
Yara meanwhile despite breathing a sigh of relief did not waste time in planning for the next attack and started giving orders.
"Find the maester! Get him to find every flammable substance in this castle; any fluids and any cloth we can spare. Also get a party of men out there and burn all of those bodies, I will not have our enemy use them again. And have the woodsmen bring some trees from the forest for wood, we need more arrows!"
Her men scurried about to obey her orders while she looked at the piles of corpses outside her walls. It was a horrific scene, seeing a group of desecrated children was enough to make even her stomach nearly heave but she was Iron Born and the last of the Greyjoys, she resolved to herself and she would break before she bent. These creatures would not break her she thought firmly to herself standing tall despite the cold winds and planning for the next attack.
-x-
Winterfell, the North…
The men on the walls of the north's strongest castle watched the dark horizon and peered through the falling snow to try and spot any sign that the enemy might be at their doorstep. Robb watched with the men, using telescopes to scan the area but saw nothing. He remained at his post, not willing to miss a single indication of a possible attack before it came. Not with his wife and son at risk, at his side his great uncle Ser Brynden joined the vigil just as devoted as Robb to the defence of the castle.
Bran was in the Godswood, touching the Weirwood tree in an attempt to contact the Three Eyed Raven but so far had not been able to reach the old man. Frustrated Bran abandoned his efforts, hoping for better luck tomorrow. Rickon was spending his time with the direwolves while Wynafryd and her sister Wylla slipped warm broth with Lyanna Mormont and the civilians that had taken refuge within the great castle walls. Ned meanwhile was pouring over lists of their stores and calculating with Maester Luwin how long they could support all of the people in the castle even with strict rationing. The grim looks on both men did not look hopeful and Ned was glad that Ashara had journeyed home to Starfall to see her family and was well clear of the situation.
On the edge of the forest near the castle a White Walker on his horse peered out and sneered at the great castle. The humans thought their walls would keep them out, a constant failing that would ensure their destruction. His king had ordered him to bring about the fall of Winterfell and as he closed his eyes raising his arms above his head, reaching out to the dead within the walls and commanding them to raise to his cause. A slight annoyance crossed his mind as he felt fewer bodies able to respond to his call than he would have liked, only two in fact in the bowels of the castle but two would do he thought for what he had in mind.
-x-
In the Crypts of Winterfell, two tombs started to shake slowly at first but getting more vigorous by the second until finally the tombs shifted and gnarled hands forced the lids aside. No one was patrolling the crypts so no one noticed the two wights rising from their resting places, one a man who was wearing black leather armour and rotting furs having been dead only a few short years. His hair was thin but still the dark brown in had been before his death.
The other wight was more deteriorated than the first although clearly still a woman. Her hair that had once been long and brown had long fallen from her skull, her skin now brown and worn where it had been milky white. One common trait was the grey eyes that both wights had shared in life were now the same strange shade of blue.
The wights lumbered up the steps out of the crypts which were never left locked before coming across a guardsman who turned and looked and widened his eyes in horror before the wights tore at him with their gnarled hands and teeth, tearing his throat out. The moment he expired, his eyes still open turned the same blue as his killers and he rose to join them in their efforts to kill everyone inside.
Bran was on his way back to his rooms, his brow screwed up in anger at his inability to contact the raven. He needed his advice and guidance now more than ever, he could not even contact Lord Lannister in the south for some reason perhaps Bran realised the presence of the White Walkers was interfering with his ability to connect through the Weirwood trees. That cold feeling in his bones that he had felt since the Wall had come down. He had known before the letter arrived from Last Hearth that the Nights Watch had fallen and the Wall with them so now the great war had begun again and he had no real idea as to what his role was too be.
Then just as he was almost in his private sanctuary he felt a sharp jab of cold move through him and with trepidation he remembered the last time that he had felt something like that…the day at the Great Weirwood when it had been attacked by the Night King and his army. He rushed back down the corridor and down the stairs in time to hear a scream. His father likewise heard the scream and emerged from his solar with Ice in hand and a number of guards too only to stop cold at the sight before them.
Three wights had set on a cook and were in the process of tearing into her chest but how the wights had gotten into the castle was not the first thing that came into their minds. The fact that one of the wights was Benjen Stark their lord's deceased brother was. Everyone looked on in shock and horror as the damaged body of the cook rose from the dead before their eyes only for Bran to summon fire into his hands, not the fierce and nigh uncontrollable flames that he had seen Lord Lannister use but a normal fire spell while the guards and his father were still distracted and let out small blasts at the wights who were closely clustered together.
The wights upon contact with the fire began to fall apart before their eyes, Eddard's eyes glistening with slight tears as he saw the corpses of his brother and what he realised could only be their sister dissolve to ash leaving nothing but their silver Stark medallions behind. Only one person even realised that it had been Bran that destroyed the wights which was Eddard himself who knew of his son's magic and quickly with a swallow as grief stabbed at him gave his order to Luwin who had been struck dumb by the sight of the wights too.
"Send an order across the North, all graves are to be opened and the bodies burned. Ashes may be reinterned but all corpses unless they are mere skeletons must be burned. I will not allow the Walkers to use the bodies of loved ones to kill us all." He said gruffly fury starting to overwhelm his grief as he raged at how the walkers had used the bodies of his dear brother and sister against them. It was good he thought that the cook had managed to scream before the wights had killed her, how many others might have perished if she had not. What did concern him was that a lot of lords had crypts where the bodies of the dead were kept. They were sleeping soldiers within the walls of castles that might bring them all down low.
-x-
On the edges of the forest outside of Winterfell the Walker looked furious as he felt the destruction of his servants before the job was done. The sensation of human magic was like a bad taste on his tongue, he might have cursed if he had been human for the presence of the magic wielder.
He was so focused on this that he failed to notice the human creeping up on him until it was too late, the blade of dragonglass was plunged into his back. He struggled when he felt the blade pierce his cold grey skin but he fell forward into the snow and dissolved into a pile of blue ice crystals that quickly became lost in the snow.
Eddison Tollett who had delivered the fatal blow retrieved the dagger from the snow and marvelled at how the apparently fragile substance could kill something as strong as a Walker. Kinvara with a bandage around her head marked with blood from her recent injury smiled and asked.
"Feeling better?"
"A little." He admitted before tucking the dagger back on his belt and returning to their shared horse. Climbing onto the saddle with ease she hopped on behind him, wrapping her arms firmly around his waist to steady herself. He felt the softness of her body stirring an obvious response in him and the heat from her body was so great he did not feel in the least bit cold.
They rode onwards to the gates of Winterfell and Edd could not help but admire the grand castle, the biggest he had ever seen and he hoped strong enough to withstand what Castle Black had not. Reaching the gates he looked up and saw people above him, one a young man only a few years younger than Edd himself shouted out.
"WHO SEEKS ENTRY INTO WINTERFELL?" The accent was pure northern and Edd responded just as loudly.
"EDDISON TOLLETT AND KINVARA! WE COME TO PLEDGE OUR SERVICE TO HOUSE STARK!"
There seemed to be a discussion for a moment up on the wall between the men about whether or not to accept them and Edd worried for a moment that they might deny him entrance but then another question was asked by the young man above him.
"WHAT SKILLS DO YOU OFFER?"
"I OFFER MY SWORD AND DAGGER WHILE THE LADY AT MY SIDE OFFERS HER MAGIC THAT SLEW MANY WIGHTS AT CASTLE BLACK!" Edd shouted and that stirred a hornet's nest if the amount of talking he observed was any indication. Then once it had ended the gates of the castle opened revealing Lord Stark standing imperiously on the other side with a large and fierce looking direwolf at his side. Not far a lad of fifteen watched with a direwolf of his own but while he got a brief glance from Kinvara they focused their attention on Lord Stark who looked down at Edd's clothing and then Kinvara before making a statement rather than ask a question.
"You are a brother of the Night's Watch and she is a Red Witch of the East, Master Tollett I have little worry of admitting you to my home if you are willing to use your sword in its defence but why should I trust a follower of the Red God?" Lord Stark said his accent strong and before Edd could speak for her, Kinvara spoke to the Lord of North.
"My lord I am no longer a worshipper of the false Red God, I saw the truth of him years ago and would never burn anyone as an offering to him if that is what you are concerned over. I merely offer my fire and magic to you and your people to fight the ancient foe." She said conjuring a powerful ball of fire as proof of her power which made many look on in awe at the magic. She smiled, enjoying it more than she should and carefully made it revolve around her.
Ned looked at them and frowned, not trusting a Red woman after all the trouble that Stannis and his ilk had caused in the North but if the power she had was as strong as she and Tollett claimed then she might be invaluable in the defence of Winterfell. So with trepidation he waved them inside.
Kinvara was pleased with herself as she and her temporary travelling partner were admitted into the castle and while it would have struck many as rather grim and bland, she found it good. No wastage, only what was practical and she could feel the history of this place, the power in its foundations that stretched back through the centuries, more than any other castle she had ever been in. This she thought to herself would do very well, very well indeed.
Her thoughts then turned to the boy she had glimpsed earlier, powerful in magic but lacking in experience yet a destiny hung over him. She would keep a careful watch over that one.
-x-
White Harbour, the North…
For the second time in a year, Jon came in to land at White Harbour with an army and dragon at his side. Only this time he was met with a cheering crowd that welcomed him with open arms, he and his men rode through the streets as Sunfyre flew overhead making the situation very surreal for Jon considering why he had come.
He met with the castellans of White Harbour that his uncle had appointed to run the city and thriving port for his cousin Rickon until both he and his wife to be Wynafryd Manderly were of age to ensure that the city was secure and ready for the rest of the reinforcements from the south when they arrived. He was about to march his army towards Moat Cailin to meet with Lord Lannister when he was startled from his planning by loud roars coming from the east. He and his men looked out and where surprised to see two large but familiar dragons emerging out of the clouds. Walking out into the courtyard where Sunfyre now looked up more animated than ever and from what Jon could feel from their bond excited and happy.
Jon smiled as he saw the forms of Daenerys and Rhaenys sitting astride their own dragons, now like his wearing the runic dragonglass armour provided by Lord Lannister. Jon had to admit the craftsmanship was exceptional as he admired the sheen and artistry put into the design and it made the dragons look even more fearsome which he had no thought possible. Jon then stopped thinking about how the dragons looked in their armour and met Dany and Rhaenys as they landed in the square. Their three dragons immediately came together with their tails wagging, happy to be reunited with their siblings while Jon gave his aunt and sister a hug each glad that they would be at his side in the coming battle.
-x-
The Rills, the North…
The mists that surrounded the Rills had made landing a delicate operation as the ships anchored off shore, trying to avoid the many rocky hazards that could sink them easily. The Lannister ships and the additional Iron Born ships that had joined them at the King's command carefully lowered men and supplies into small boats that ferried them to the shore.
One of the first to land had been Hadrian himself, his heavy boots sank deep into the snow with his faithful lion at his side now clad in runic dragonglass armour of his own. Hadrian smiled and gave his lion a steak to chew on while he waited for all of his men and equipment to be offloaded, frowning slightly at how long it had taken but with the extra barrels of oil and dragonglass that they had brought combined with the mist it was unavoidable.
He looked out at the grim and white landscape ahead of him and wished that Lord Stark had agreed to his plans to build a new port on the west coast of the north. The only coastal castle on the mainland that was on this side was Flint's Finger and it was far too rough and rocky to use for ships making it useless as a resupply base so fresh supplies of food, oil and dragonglass would either have to be shipped through White Harbour on the eastern coast or landed like this and ferried ashore in small boats.
Both were time consuming Hadrian thought with concern but there was little to be done. Right now he thought he had other issues to consider.
-x-
Overhead meanwhile Shaena flew on the back of her armoured dragon Terrax while Sheepstealer followed alongside. Her eyes could not spot anything on the horizon beyond the mist so hopefully the Walkers and their wights had not gotten this far south…yet she thought with worry. Terrax feeling his mistress's fear tried to bolster her mood with a few of her favourite aerobatic moves. While it did bring a small smile to her face the concerns about the enemy continued to reverberate in the back of her mind.