Within the cold and thick granite walls, Winterfell had entered a state of tense preparation for war, the likes of which had not been seen in many years.
This ancient stronghold, which had served as the capital of the North for generations, was said to have been built by Bran the Builder with the help of Giants. Since the beginning of recorded history, it had been besieged by nearly every old house in the North, yet it had never once fallen. However, this proud record could not reassure the defenders now, for the enemy they were about to face was one never before seen in Westerosi history.
The Night's Watch had rebelled, and the Wildlings had crossed the Wall. These were rare events, but if one took a broader view of history, they had happened more than once. Yet this time, for the first time in thousands of years, the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch was leading the Free Folk who once lived Beyond the Wall across the border from The Gift into the North, passing through Last Hearth—Winterfell's original northern shield, which was no longer in Northman hands—and advancing straight toward the heart of the North.
On one side stood a fortress that had never fallen. On the other, the first Lord Commander in history to defeat the White Walkers, a figure second only to Azor Ahai in the eyes of the Northmen. The sharpest spear against the strongest shield. Who would emerge victorious? No one dared to predict it lightly, but what was certain was that the defenders were facing a bitter and difficult battle.
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Warmed by the hearth fire, the temperature inside the great hall was far more comfortable than outside. Robb Stark stood with Ser Rodrik and Clay Cerwyn before a sand table that replicated the Northern terrain. All three wore grave expressions as they discussed how to respond to the sweeping rebellion of the Night's Watch.
Originally, there would have been fewer people attending the war council. Fortunately, Seven City was less than half a day's ride from Winterfell. Its new lord, upon receiving the call, had brought his men and arrived before nightfall yesterday, joining the defenders of the castle and becoming the only reinforcements to arrive before the enemy.
Not long ago, this very hall had been crowded with lords from across the North. They had come to join the war against the White Walkers but arrived too late and missed the Battle of Long Lake. Their massive forces had camped outside the castle, making Winterfell appear as though it were floating on a sea of tents. But in order to conserve food and to lull Aegor into proceeding with his so-called "Beyond the Wall expedition," Robb had publicly declared neutrality, lifted the wartime status, and, after holding several meetings to plot the overthrow of The Gift, sent the large armies back to their respective holdings.
At the time, Robb had taken pride in resolving matters with minimal bloodshed. But now, it seemed that he had fulfilled the old saying that cleverness might overreach itself. The one who had wanted Aegor to lower his guard had in fact been the true fool. The so-called expedition had likely been a complete lie from the beginning, and he... had naively waited for it to begin until the day before yesterday.
...
"Too late, too fast." Clay Cerwyn, unaware of the fury in Robb's heart, studied the map and measured the distance with his hand before giving his conclusion. "After scouts spot the rebels, they have to return to the nearest outpost with a raven cage. Then the raven must fly to Winterfell, which takes at least half a day. This means that by the time you receive frontline intelligence, Lord Robb, the Gift army has already traveled nearly another full day."
"Based on some clues, we can deduce that the rebel army left Crown Town four mornings ago. For them to reach our alert range in just two days shows that Aegor's army is moving at great speed. If they can maintain this pace..." The young Lord of Seven City picked up the marker representing the Gift army and moved it to a point between Crown Town and Winterfell. "They've likely already completed half the journey. They could be only three days away from us. Or even less."
Robb's hand, resting on the edge of the table, clenched into a fist before slowly relaxing. "How is the progress on the dragon-hunting ballistae?"
"They've started," Rodrik replied with a helpless shrug. "For King Stannis to get us the blueprints while King's Landing is under blockade was already a great effort. Without expert guidance from someone who actually designed or built them, those artisans—whose heads seem to be made of wood—took ages just to understand the diagrams. Optimistically, it'll still take one or two weeks."
That was a best-case scenario. In reality, even finishing in a month would be difficult. Of course, the old knight could never have guessed that the person in the world who knew the ballistae best was now among the so-called Night's Watch rebels, approaching Winterfell at a speed of dozens of miles a day.
"Didn't they say the remaining two dragons haven't recovered from their injuries yet? We should still have time, right?" Lord Cerwyn asked uneasily. After a few seconds of hesitation, he voiced the rest of his thoughts. If Daenerys's two dragons appeared in the skies above Winterfell before the ballistae were assembled, it might be wiser to surrender outright.
"Will the Tallhart forces still have time to arrive?" Robb exhaled softly and asked with a serious expression.
This was the second-closest vassal house and the only one still likely to reach Winterfell before the rebels.
"Theoretically, the travel time from Torrhen's Square to Winterfell is also three days." Clay Cerwyn, a true Northman, knew the distances well. "But that's assuming Lord Tallhart set out the moment he received your raven. In practice, the raven could run into trouble, raising the army takes time, and most importantly, the road between Torrhen's Square and Winterfell hasn't been repaired or cleared of snow."
Silence fell in the hall. All three at the war table were experienced commanders, seasoned by years of battle. They had seen countless surprise attacks succeed. But to be caught so off guard, even after filling The Gift with spies and sending out patrols that scouted hundreds of miles, and still not having time to react, was humiliating.
This kind of swift advance, with a lone army driving deep into enemy territory, was a strategy ahead of its time. If it had been anyone else, they would be drinking and laughing at the foolishness, preparing to crush the invaders. But this time, the enemy was Aegor West, Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, an old friend and guardian of the North. For some reason, an unshakable sense of unease and powerlessness lingered in their hearts.
"That bastard." Ser Rodrik muttered, his face ashen. "When he repaired the main roads between The Gift and the North, shortening the march from Crown Town to Winterfell from two weeks to one, he must have been preparing for this very day. Maybe even Last Hearth..."
"Enough. Let's not dwell on that," Robb interrupted. Rebuilding roads just to stage a rebellion? That was too far-fetched. After all, when Aegor first proposed restoring the northern stretch of the Kingsroad for free, he hadn't even been elected Lord Commander yet. As for the second half of the old knight's sentence, Robb could guess the meaning. Perhaps even the fall of Last Hearth to the dead had been orchestrated by Aegor. Perhaps even the White Walkers were just pawns in his plan.
That was taking it too far. Robb didn't believe it.
Still, disbelief aside, the Night's Watch had indeed rebelled. And as the betrayed party, as the one bearing the brunt, Robb had no reason to speak in their defense. He tapped the edge of the table impatiently with two fingers. "How many soldiers do we have on hand?"
Since he had been asked, Rodrik had to drop his complaints and give an answer. "I personally led men to conscript young folk from Winter Town and the surrounding villages. Adding Lord Cerwyn's three hundred men, we now have close to a thousand fully armed fighting men inside the castle. There are also several hundred more who can wield farm tools and clubs."
"Seven City could have sent more men, but when I received the raven yesterday, I didn't know the rebels were still three days out. I thought it was already urgent, so I left a temporary lord in charge to continue raising troops and brought the already armed men straight here." Thinking Robb was dissatisfied with the numbers, Clay Cerwyn quickly explained, "If needed, Seven City still has time to gather another four or five hundred men."
"No. Seven City needs to be defended too. Besides, in a castle defense, once you have enough men, more isn't necessarily better." Sensing the atmosphere had grown too heavy, Rodrik tried to lift his liege's spirits. "With all due respect, Lord Robb, Winterfell's double walls could stop an army ten times the size Aegor is bringing. Let alone a few thousand men, even if he brought thirty thousand, he wouldn't get through those gates before we ran out of food."
"Exactly." Cerwyn raised his voice. "A thousand trained soldiers against five thousand Wildlings. With that kind of ratio, even Seven City could sleep soundly, let alone Winterfell with its stone walls. All we need to do is hold fast, avoid field battles, and wait for reinforcements from the other lords. Aegor won't be able to escape, even with wings."
On paper, the odds did seem favorable. But Robb had come to understand Aegor's temperament, and had seen the Night's Watch achieve miraculous victories against the wights. It was difficult to imagine that someone like him, who never acted without confidence, would foolishly bring a few thousand men to attack the towering walls of Winterfell. A thousand defenders were indeed enough to hold the castle for a year under a normal siege. But deep down, he could not shake a lingering fear. Had that man, once his friend, already prepared a way to break Winterfell?
"Tell the ballista builders to work through the night. Bring in anyone nearby who can help, give them anything they need. The faster, the better. Also, send another letter to Lord Tallhart. Tell him not to march directly to Winterfell. Instead, have him coordinate with the other lords on when and where to rendezvous..."
Suddenly, a guard outside the door knocked loudly and reported, "Lord Robb, Maester Luwin requests an audience. He says he has urgent news from Dreadfort!"
(To be continued.)
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