Robb scratched his jaw, wondering what in the blazes his enemy was doing. Thousands of wights stood on the snowy terrain below, doing absolutely nothing. They simply stared at the Wall and the shattered remains of the first gate as if they were waiting for something to happen. To Robb and his commanders, it was all very perplexing. Their role was to anticipate what their enemy would do, then make a plan to counter it.
When the enemy does nothing, it makes planning for what they might do a lot harder.
Robb's soldiers didn't share his worries. They were unleashing the Seven Hells upon the army of the undead with arrows, oil, and rocks. Dozens of wights were being destroyed every minute, though none even flinched as their fellow blue-eyed demons were killed.
"What in the blazes are they doing, Highsmith?" Lord Tarly grunted to the Green Man.
Robb glanced at the leader of the Green Men. Besides the army of undead, the Bryn Highsmith was someone that Robb also worried about. When the young monarch had caught sight of the man that morning as they were breaking their fast, he looked terrible. His eyes were rimmed with red, showing a lack of sleep, and his face was as pale as snow. There was a tired, almost defeated air around him, which Robb found both odd and troubling.
The Green Man leaned on his spear. "The Wall was made with magic, Lord Tarly. The wights, nor their master, can pass under it."
A few of Robb's commanders nodded. That made sense to them. However, neither Robb nor Lord Tarly seemed to agree entirely with the Green Man.
"But they can pass over it," Robb pointed out. "That's why some keep trying to climb the Wall."
The Green Man nodded. "The Wall is several hundred feet high and extends from shore to shore, but it is not perfect. The magic that was bestowed upon the blocks of ice does not extend further."
"So the enemy could theoretically get around us," Father said.
The Green Man nodded. "Yes, but wights don't swim. To freeze a lake is one thing. To freeze the sea is a power that not even the Great Darkness has. Even if it could, it would begin a war with the Drowned God, something that it would not risk when it is already at war with the Old Gods."
Robb tugged on his beard. "The Drowned God has gone after my family once already. We'll double the guard at the gates and prepare for the worst," he ordered. "They're waiting for something, and it has to be coming from our side."
"Could the Others have any sort of allies south of the Wall?" Lord Royce asked, lending his voice to the conversation.
"After Craster's death, it was said that he gave up the boys birthed by his daughter-wives to the Others," Mance suggested. "Probably how the damn things repopulated so quickly over the past few years."
"Who's Craster?" Jaime asked.
"A free folk man who married his daughters," Father explained briefly. "He was occasionally an ally to the Watch, but mainly stayed neutral." he nodded to Mance. "You make a good point, Mance. His sons are probably the reason why the Others are attacking now. If the Others have to be grown like any other being, why waste time on stealing a child when Craster gives up his own."
"Craster may have been a worshiper of the Others," the Green Man said, "but the Others are incapable of working together with anyone other than their own kind. At best, Craster would have died last, but he would have died all the same."
"So if an attack comes from the south, it'll be led by an Other," Lord Tarly summarized.
"What do the Others have to do to break the Wall's magic?" Jaime asked before shaking his head. "Can't believe I asked that."
The Green Man shook his head. "I don't know. The magic used on the Wall is ancient. There are none alive among the Children who would know it."
"What about greenseers?" Mance Rayder asked. "Once they're bonded with a Heart Tree, then they live forever, don't they?"
The Green Man shook his head again. "Greenseers can live for a very long time, yes, but the building of the Wall was over eight thousand years ago. No Child can live that long, not even with the help of the Old Gods."
"Why wasn't any knowledge passed down?" Lord Royce asked.
"The coming of the Andals messed everything up, didn't it?" Robb said grimly. "They slaughtered dozens of the Children of the Forest before any knowledge they had of the Wall could be passed down."
"Unfortunately," the Green Man nodded.
"Winterfell might have some records of the event," Jaime tried helpfully. "After all, it was your ancestor that built this blood thing."
Father shook his head. "You would be right, but Winterfell was torched by Roose Bolton's bastard during the war."
"What about the Grand Maester?" Lord Royce said. "Is it a possibility that he read something?"
"He would have mentioned it," Lord Tarly grumbled.
"What's done is done," Robb said, bringing the conversation to a close. "Lord Tarly, you have your orders. Highsmith, ready the Children of the Forest. I hope their agility and stature will come in handy if the courtyard is turned into a battlefield. Jaime, gather our best shots and put them at the gate and anywhere else they'll have a vantage point. Lord Royce, make sure that every man is equipped with dragonglass at all times, same with the archers. Mance, check the reinforcements on the southern gate. Father, make sure our eastern and western flanks are secure. The last thing I want is all our eyes on the south as they're clambering over our eastern wall."
"What about Daenerys and Jon?" Father asked.
"Jon will patrol south of the Wall while Daenerys and Drogon destroy as many as they can north of the Wall while their standing they're standing there doing fuck all," Robb replied. "I will make sure they're told."
"How long have they been standing there?" Lord Tarly asked.
Robb shook his head. "I'm not sure. Why?"
"If their nightly routine is almost over then, we'll have more time to prepare," Lord Tarly suggested.
"Good thinking," Robb said. "Take the night and the morning to prepare. Have the men stand ready at five after noon. That's about the time the Others begin their attack."
Robb's commanders all bowed before leaving.
Line Break
Robb was reaching for his sword as soon as he heard the banging on his door. It was the knock of a man who was terrified and given their current predicament, Robb could only guess that something had happened that involved the Others.
When he opened the door, the soldier's wide-eyed look was all Robb needed to see to know that something had happened.
"They're here, Your Grace," the soldier said, trying hard to keep his voice under control as he spoke.
Robb nodded and immediately turned towards the Wall, but before he could even take a step, he felt a firm hand grab him by the shoulder and turn him around. When he turned, he came face to face with his father, whose face was like stone.
"They're coming from the south, Robb," he said grimly.
"It's daytime though," Robb said as he drew his sword.
Father shook his head. "They switched their timing. The past six months have been a ruse."
Robb could only nod as he and his father exited the tower and into an active courtyard. Men were rushing around, grabbing weapons and taking up positions. Archers stood in packs on landings and walkways, the staircases leading to them protected by shield walls and a bristling hedge of spears. The bulk of Robb's infantry formed ranks in front of the gate. Lord Tarly's voice boomed over the courtyard, ordering men to ranks.
"Do you still have men watching the east and west?" Robb asked.
Father shook his head. "Tarly's called them all to the front."
Robb grimaced until he caught sight of Brienne and the rest of his kingsguard walking up to him, looking ready for a fight. When they reached him, the elite warriors put fists to their chests and bowed to him.
"Command us, your grace," Brienne said.
"Brienne, take thirty men and defend the eastern wall if the enemy attacks. Ser Robar, do the same with the western wall," Robb ordered. "The rest of you are with me."
As his two guards ran off, Robb grabbed an ironwood shield from the armory before joining his Master of War at the gate. Tarly had his valyrian steel greatsword unsheathed and held point-down in the snow as he continued to call for men to ready themselves.
"Lord Tarly, I take it the enemy has been spotted?" Robb said as he approached.
"Our sentries spotted them in the trees," Tarly replied. "Mance Rayder has control of the archers atop the Wall. I have a messenger standing by the winch in case we need reinforcements. Our best warriors are in place around the courtyard. We're as prepared as we can be."
"I sent two of my kingsguard with thirty men each to defend the eastern and western walls in case the enemy tries to overwhelm us on all sides," Robb said. "Where will you be, my lord?"
"I mean to stand on the winch platform and direct the defenses if possible," Lord Tarly said. "I will strike where I can. What of yourself, your grace?"
Robb shrugged his shield into a better position. "I will stay here on the front lines with the men," he replied before looking over his shoulder at the assembled soldiers. "If that's alright with you lot?"
One soldier grinned. "Always wanted to rub shoulders with royalty," he chuckled. "We'd be honored to stand with you, your grace."
Lord Tarly merely nodded. "I trust your judgment, your grace."
The two warriors clasped arms for a moment, each knowing that this battle would ultimately show whether or not future plans could be made and what may happen should the enemy north of the Wall breakthrough.
"See you on the other side," Robb said firmly before Tarly strode off and Robb took his place in the shield wall, his remaining three kingsguard on his left, right, and behind him.
Robb glanced over at Ser Balon, who had changed out his morningstar for a mace that was spiked with dragonglass.
"Time to see if this valyrian steel armor was worth all the fuss," Robb said with a grim smile. He wore the scale armor over a padded shirt, cinched at his wrists with leather cuffs sown with ringmail. Thick leather covered his shoulders, completing the set. The scale shirt reached down to his mid-thigh and felt no heavier than a cotton shirt.
"Ask me at the end of the battle, your grace," Ser Balon replied, returning the smile.
"Here they come!" an archer called from atop the gate as archers began to fire on the enemy.
A chill ran down Robb's spine. Besides the sound of bowstrings, there were no other sounds of battle. There were no tramping feet or battle cries, save from his own men. A few captains bellowed orders, directing the archers' fire, but it was completely quiet on the other side of the gate.
Rhaegal let out an ear-shattering roar as he swooped down. When he was close enough, Robb heard his brother bellow a word in a language he didn't recognize. Immediately, fire spewed from the dragon's maw and engulfed the enemy.
The men saw this and pounded their shields, cheering for Rhaegal and Jon.
Still despite the arrows and dragon fire, the sudden pounding at the gate caused Robb and his men to take a step back. The young monarch quickly composed himself, fighting against the fear that filled his stomach.
"Hold!" he roared, raising his sword and shield. "We have nothing to fear from these bastards! Let's show them what it means to have breath in our lungs and blood in our veins! Let's show them what it means to have life!"
Robb's men roared their approval and the wavering wall of shields became a solid barrier of steel, wood, and flesh. Spears were lowered and swords were readied.
BANG
"Bring it down!" the captain ordered, pointing his sword at whatever was hitting the gate. A couple of archers fired, but it seemed to have no effect.
"It's not fucking dying!" an archer shouted back, loosing an arrow.
BANG
"Aim for its bloody head!" another shouted.
"Watch out! They're climbing the wall!"
"Keep them off the walkway!" the captain bellowed, grabbing a spear and shoving it at something on the wall.
BANG
"They're almost through!"
"Hold firm!" Robb shouted. "Whatever comes through that gate, we'll meet it head-on! Remember what we're fighting for! Remember who we're fighting for!"
The gate came apart in a splintering crack as the undead giant forced its way through, tattered fur studded with arrow shafts and its blue eyes burning with unbridled hate. Even Robb was struck for a moment as he took in every gruesome detail of the creature. Rotten, sinewy flesh covered its face and ice clung to its hair and beard. Humanoid feet dug into the snowy ground as it let out a silent bellow. However, before it could finish its call, it staggered as a spear pierced the side of its head, sliding in one ear and lodging in its brain.
"Fucker!" Tormund Giantsbane shouted, drawing his sword and dragonglass dagger.
A wave of wights swarmed through the broken gate, climbing over their dead comrade as they rushed towards Robb and his men. The King of Westeros pointed his sword at the enemy as they approached.
"FOR WESTEROS!" he roared as the first wight launched itself at him.
Claw came down almost as if it was acting with a life of its own, slicing the head off the creature and buffeting the limp corpse aside as another wight took its place. Undead hands gripped his shield, but Robb continuously hacked at the damn thing before it finally went down.
The shield wall wavered under the onslaught but held as men behind the front line lent their strength to their brothers-in-arms. Swords, spears, axes, and maces rose and fell without pause as the men of Westeros desperately held themselves together, forming a rock of life against the unending sea of undead.
The forces of the living took many losses. Men were dragged away from the line as several undead wights grabbed at their weapons and armor, pulling them away and swallowing them in their ranks. Robb heard their frantic, frightened cries, which became cries of pain as the man's body was torn into by teeth and splintered nails. Eventually, the cries ceased, but Robb knew that he would hear them in his sleep for as long as he lived.
Robb's senses became numb the longer he fought. His arms and legs were cut and torn, the front of his shield was undoubtedly scratched and scarred, but he continued to fight on, not knowing what else to do. The repetitive action of hacking and shoving became instinctual, so much so that Robb no longer thought about what he was doing or how long he was doing it for. He no longer heard the screams or cries of his men as they fought, nor felt the sting of his injuries. He didn't even seem to register the undead faces of his enemy or their glowing blue eyes.
He just continued to fight.
"Seven save me," Ser Balon muttered as another being entered the fray.
The air in the courtyard became colder than Robb had ever felt before, shocking his system and bringing him back to reality. A freezing mist wafted through the gates, leaving frost on the pants and boots of the defenders as it wandered by.
Then Robb saw it.
It carried a weapon of crystal and delicate, reflective armor. Its blue skin was stretched taut over bone and sinewy muscle, with strands of snow-white hair waving in the wind. It made no sound as it moved, and crossed through the snow with unnatural ease. The most terrifying thing about the creature, however, was its eyes. They blazed like blue stars and caused the fear in Robb's stomach to freeze.
The wights moved aside for their master as they continued to swarm over the ranks of mankind. The Others did not stray from its path as it continued to head straight towards Robb, its hateful gaze set on the king.
"Your Grace!" Ser Garth shouted, pulling Robb back as the Other made its move, covering the distance between them in two swift steps, its blade poised to strike.
Robb was hauled back by Balon and Rolland as the shield wall was broken and the wights washed over the defenders, seizing their chase and causing chaos as they continued forward.
Robb didn't watch as his men were pushed back towards the winch. His gaze was stuck on Ser Garth as the reachman desperately tried to hold his ground, but he was terribly outmatched. Ser Garth 'Greysteel' Hightower was a good knight, but Robb knew that, besides Hobber Redwyne, he was one of the weaker warriors Robb had on his kingsguard.
He was a man battling the inevitable.
His shield was the first to go, shattered into frost-covered fragments before his sword followed suit. When Garth tried to reach for his dragonglass dagger, the Other struck, nearly cutting the man from shoulder to hip before moving on as if nothing had happened.
"We need to stop it," Robb grunted as he allowed himself to be hauled back to his feet.
A circle of soldiers had surrounded the king, keeping the enemy at bay as Lord Tarly fought to reorganize the defenses and re-establish the shield wall. The green men had set up a defensive line in front of the winch, their archers providing support for Tarly's men.
All around the castle, defenses struggled and fought valiantly to hold back the wights. Brienne and Ser Robar were on their respective walls, their men helping the archers keep the enemy from washing over their flanks. The rest of Robb's commanders led groups of men against the enemy, keeping them contained to the courtyard as they fought on walkways and staircases.
Robb grabbed the shoulder of one of the shoulders, plunging Claw into the face of the wight the man was fighting.
"We need to reach the platform," he ordered, pointing towards the winch. "Form a wedge."
"On me lads!" the soldier shouted as he drove forward, Robb at his shoulder.
The two fought as one, forcing their way through the mass of wights. The journey wasn't easy, but each man fought as if each moment was their last. Their fury and wildness would have made any other enemy balk, but not the wights. They continued to throw themselves at the soldiers with reckless abandon.
The man on Robb's right dropped as his throat was opened, but Ser Balon immediately filled the vacancy, his mace sweeping from side to side with bone-crushing blows.
"Almost there," Robb grunted as he hacked away at a wight.
Soon, Robb's group reached Tarly's shield wall and was swiftly enveloped by the wall before it formed again. Robb and his companions made their way up the stairs and onto the platform.
"Good to see you are not dead," Lord Tarly grumbled when Robb reached him.
The lord of Lannisport had retaken his position at the top of the stairs, watching with narrowed eyes as the defenses struggled against the enemy. A wight broke through the line and rushed Tarly, but was quickly dispatched by a lightning-quick sweep from his greatsword.
"I need your men," Tarly said as he planted his sword in front of him. "The stairwell must be held."
"Ser Balon, Ser Rolland, do as Lord Tarly says," Robb ordered. The two knights merely nodded and strode off, followed by the remaining soldiers who had helped Robb fight his way to the platform.
"How bad is it?" Robb asked when he and Tarly were alone.
"We're holding, though only just," Tarly replied grimly. "They're still pouring through the gate and the damn White Walker is taking his time getting here."
"We need to take it down," Robb said.
"Easier said than done," Tarly said. "More of our archers are being dragged into combat or are dead. We're losing our support."
"Is there anything we can do?" Robb asked, watching as the snow demon deflected an arrow with its sword, still keeping that slow, purposeful stride towards the platform. It was clearly waiting for an opening to appear in the defenses before it made its move.
"Keep it busy long enough for one of my men to get a shot in," the Green Man said, joining the conversation. Like Robb and Lord Tarly, his appearance bore testament to how much he had been involved in the fighting.
"We'll keep it busy," Robb swore. "Lord Tarly, it's time we end this fight."
The two warriors readied themselves before making their way into the ranks of their men, pushing forward until they reached the front lines. The White Walker continued towards them, its gaze one again set on Robb.
"I will keep it distracted," Robb said. "Strike as soon as you can."
Like before, the wights parted as the Other moved forward, leaving a perfect ring for Robb and Lord Tarly to fight the creature in. Even Robb's men moved back, giving their leaders space.
Robb tossed his shield to the side and held Claw with both hands as he launched himself at the White Walker. With superhuman speed, the Other's sword came up to deflect Robb's strike, but unlike with Ser Garth's blade, Robb's did not shatter. Instead, it managed to put a notch in the ice blade. The blue eyes that had been dead set on Robb flickered for just a moment.
Robb smiled grimly. "How about a fair fight," he grunted, pushing the Other back with a flurry of strikes, none of which seemed to concern his opponent.
Robb had no illusions about beating the White Walker by himself. He knew enough about his abilities to know that his enemy was a superior fighter. However, he wasn't trying to end the fight, but to give Lord Tarly a chance to finish off the creature.
Robb's blade flashed down at the walker's head, but his blade was met before it ever reached its intended target, leaving Robb's chest undefended. Robb's desperate offensive had been halted, and now the northman could only watch with growing fear as an ice dagger formed in the Other's other hand, knowing that his fight, and his life, would be over in the next few seconds. The dagger flew forward, but suddenly stopped just before it hit Robb's armor.
Heartsbane, the ancestral greatsword of House Tarly, slowly emerged inch by inch from the Other's chest, stopping the creature cold. With a wordless cry, the demon exploded into a thousand tiny pieces before it was blown away by the wind.
The wights briefly looked towards where their master had fallen before resuming their attack, with a dozen launching themselves at Robb and Lord Tarly. Thankfully, several defenders pulled the two men back behind the line before they were overwhelmed.
"What in the blazes is wrong?" Lord Tarly growled as he and Robb struck at any of the undead who made it past the line.
"What do you mean?" Robb grunted through gritted teeth, shearing the head off of his attacker.
"The mist hasn't dissipated and none of the wights have gone down," Tarly explained briefly. "The Other is gone. What's keeping these things together?"
"Perhaps their master is on the other side of the Wall?" Robb suggested.
Tarly shook his head. "Something's wrong."
The two men continued to fight for the next few minutes, their discussion forced to stop. The defenders were on their last legs, fighting with nothing but desperation and a desire to see the next day. It was only a matter of time before they were overwhelmed by the unrelenting pressure from their opponents.
"ROBB!"
Robb's father's voice rang out over the courtyard, forcing Robb to look in his direction. His father pointed towards the western wall, where another White Walker was sweeping the defenders away. Unlike its peer, its gaze was set not on Robb, but the Wall. For the next few seconds, time seemed to move like molasses.
Ser Robar, who was clutching what was left of his left arm, was being dragged to safety by some of his men. Tormund tried to intercept the creature, but the burly warrior was thrown from the walkway and crashed through the roof of the stables in a shower of straw and snow. Thoros was the next to face the walker, flanked by Caul, his best warrior, but neither could do anything by stall the damn thing for a few seconds before they were eventually tossed aside. They were still alive, but they too had been defeated.
Robb and Lord Tarly tried to cut off the being, but a new wave of wights slammed into the defenders, keeping the two warriors at bay as the Other continued forward, marching up the steps and storming through Ser Rolland's men and scattering them like rabbits. Soon, only the green men remained between the Other and the Wall.
It was a slaughter.
Those who weren't cut down by its sword were sent flying from the force of its strikes. Its armor protected it from the spears and axes, but the true reason why the Green Men failed to bring down the creature was because it was simply too damn fast. The fastest warrior Robb had ever seen had been Jaime Lannister at the Battle of the Whispering Wood, but even he seemed slow compared to the Other.
By the time Robb and Lord Tarly reached the platform, the only one left was the Green Man himself, armed with only a knife.
"No!" Robb shouted, rushing forward, but he was too late.
The Green Man struck at the Other, but his wrist was grabbed as soon as he moved. With unsettling calmness, the creature put its sword through Bryn's chest before pushing his body away and reaching the Wall.
As soon as the Other touched the Wall, something changed. A myriad of colors flashed across the ice and glowed brightly before they all turned icy-blue and disappeared. Robb didn't need to be told what just happened. Whatever magic that once protected the Wall and prevented the Others and their minions from crossing the tunnels was now gone.
Robb was almost upon the damn thing when it turned, ripping its blade from a writhing Green Man as it did. The creature's swift turn and attack caught Robb off guard and he couldn't get his blade up in time to deflect the ice blade that was flying towards his neck.
However, just like before, the blade stopped before it ever reached him. The glowing blue eyes of the Other widened and looked down, surprised to see the Green Man's dagger stabbed through his exposed ankle. The creature's destruction only took a second before it was taken away by the wind.
Unlike the death of the first Other, this creature's death didhave an impact on the battle. Every wight in the courtyard crumpled to the ground, losing the blue light in their eyes as they did. The freezing mist that had accompanied the Others had also disappeared, swept away by the same breeze that had swept away the Others.
In seconds, the battle was over.
Robb knelt next to Bryn, holding one of his bloody hands as the man's gaze settled on the cloudy sky above them.
"We can get a maester," Robb said, his voice thick with emotion.
Although the Green Man was exactly a close friend of Robb's, not like Smalljon or Dacey was, the man's contribution to preparing for the Long Night could not be understated. His knowledge of the past and their enemy had been crucial ever since Robb had sought the man out.
Robb couldn't allow him to die, not after he had just saved Robb's life.
Bryn's head moved from side to side in tiny, pain-filled movements.
"N…no…," he said, his voice barely above a whisper and losing strength with every word. "This is my…my f…fate."
"We can get you help," Robb pressed, but he could see that it was a futile offer. The Green Man slowly moved his hand so that it covered Robb's.
"Good…king," the Green Man said, a small smile appearing for just a second before vanishing. "I can't…can't wait to s…see the sun…."
Without another word, the Green Man of the green men, the last of House Highsmith, descendent of the Last Hero, died in Robb's arms.