Finally the first wights had crossed more than half of the length of the large lake. Jon would soon take action, knowing that after the first burst of dragonfire lit up the sky, the living would start reigning arrows. He waited a bit longer still a bit disappointed that the ice pelt held the weight of the enormous number of enemy soldiers. Not a single crack appeared. It seemed the ice in the middle of the lake was a lot stronger than they had all anticipated.
As soon as he gave his permission, Rhaegal and Viserion dove down and flew over the enemy host. More than three quarters of the wights had made it onto the large lake. Reaching the end he held on to Rhaegal's spikes when they made a sharp turn and started burning through the ice nearest the line of burning spikes that protected the entrance to the woods.
The moment he flew low over the ice he could feel the biting cold the enemy was emanating. He no longer wondered why the ice didn't crack under their weight. They used magic to drop the temperature. Not only did the ice carry the weight of the thousands of wights, the dragons' first bursts of dragonfire upon the weakened borders of ice weren't as successful as he had hoped. They had melted a few holes in the ice but not the straight line creating the wide gap they had been aiming for. Jon turned around ready to repeat the gesture. This time they had more success. A large gap appeared between the frozen lake and the woods.
He heard the commanders shout and saw the army of the living take a few steps back and the men on the front lines ducked down. The archers loosened their arrows and almost entirely in sync the entire host moved another few steps backwards. Another salvo of arrows once more reigned on the wights. Jon saw hundreds of inert corpses littering the ice. Thousands however kept advancing without hesitation.
Again the living retreated a few steps. There was a large gap now between the south border of the lake and his allied forces. Jon knew what he had to do. As previously agreed upon, he waited for the third salvo to reach the enemy and dove to create a gap between their forces and the lake. This time he needed to make three runs to create a gap wide enough to keep his forces safe from clashing with the enemy anytime soon. Satisfied with the time he had bought them, he flew over the entire length of the lake to reach the rear of the attacking army. Viserion and Rhaegal now targeted the wights that had not stepped upon the lake yet, burning their rear guard driving the enemy forward.
"Climb" he yelled at his dragons when he saw a White Walker throw an ice spear. His dragons made an elegant evading turn and rose higher, the spear now flying harmlessly between the two of them. Jon looked down and saw most of the enemy's army had reached the large rectangular surface of the lake. At least that part of the plan was working.
The small cavalry stationed at Eastwatch had been joined by the few mounted men from the Free Folk settlement that had arrived on their sturdy horses. Sandor featured prominently amongst them and had been given command. They had stayed hidden behind their ranks until now. Sandor whistled and they raced as one toward the woods. They halted behind the burning pikes and formed an orderly line so they were now flanking the enemy who was separated from them by the melted ice and the flames of the burning pikes. From their new position they started to rain arrows with dragonglass tips. A few shadow cats leapt across the slowly narrowing gap and were aiming for the horses.
Jon still at the northern end of the lake dove down once more and completed the trap by melting the ice at the far end of the lake. As far as he could see in the darkness, the entire wight army was situated on the lake. They couldn't retreat hence from where they came. The entire length of the lake was cordoned off by burning pikes and melted ice on one side and the sea on the other. In front of them the enemy had to defend themselves against a steady rain of either burning arrows or dragonglass arrowheads. Their shrieks were deafening even from up high. Jon ears were hurting from the shrill, nasty sound. He flew along the length of the lake once more widening the existing gap were his cavalry was holding off the enemy as best as they could. Several burning remains of dead animals were proof that their lines had been breached several times already.
A horn blew. Jon looked toward the sound and saw it was their vanguard. Somehow a small part of the southern barrier of melted water had frozen over again and the first wights were engaging the front lines of his forces. For now the shield wall held but would soon be in danger of being overrun.
Jon hurried over and even though he could do nothing about the dead that had already crossed the lake and were firmly ensconced between his own ranks, he could prevent more wights from crossing over and reaching their forces.
Rhaegal and Viserion alternated attacks. Jon almost fell off several times when Rhaegal needed to execute a swift turn to avoid an ice spear. One hit Rhaegal but the angle had been crooked and it bounced of his scales. Jon however felt a surge of anger the likes of which he had never experienced before in his life and without further thought hurled a dragonglass dagger at the culprit. The White Walker distracted by Viserion's angry retaliating fire burst never saw it coming and when the dagger hit the creature clean in the chest, it exploded in thousands of ice crystals. Jon estimated that at least a several thousand wights dropped dead around the spot where the White Walker last sat atop his horse. He turned and quickly finished re-melting the gap that had been frozen over once more and numerous wights disappeared beneath the water.
"Aim for the White Walkers." Jon shouted and pointed at the only White Walker close enough for their archers to reach.
Jon did another fly over to melt the edges of the lake and keep the gap wide enough. He wondered why everything was always so much more difficult in reality then when you were drawing up your 'simple' battleplan. The archers could only do so much damage.
They had counted on his dragons to burn through the enemy once they were trapped on the ice. They had also relied on the fact that a large part of the army would drown when the ice pelt cracked under the combined weight of fifty thousand wights. His dragons flew all over the place but instead of concentrating on burning wights in the middle of the lake where the arrows of their archers couldn't reach, Rhaegal and Viserion needed to abort their attacks regularly to keep the borders of melted water wide enough.
The White Walkers were the ones that created the cold. That much had become abundantly clear. Rhaegal and Viserion kept burning through the enemy every chance they got but at this rate they would be exhausted long before their dragonfire could make enough impact. Fifty thousand wights were too much to deal with this way. Jon changed tactics and melted a corner of the lake effectively trapping at least a thousand wights on a large patch of ice. Viserion and Rhaegal kept forcing the wights to one side of their limited space until the ice cap capsized and the wights disappeared below the freezing water.
He looked up when he heard loud cheers coming from the Free Folk. Wun Wun raised his arms in victory. He stood amidst a thousand of dead wights and a small heap of ice crystals. The giant had slain a White Walker. Jon noticed two other White Walkers move to the front lines. Probably to attempt to freeze over the southern barrier that separated them from the living. After another run to widen the southern border and the gap safeguarding his cavalry that attacked the enemy flank, he flew towards the rear to isolate another contingent and make a part of the ice pelt collapse.
When Sandor blew his horn Jon aborted his attempt to drown more wights and once more melted the ice near the burning spikes to keep the enemy from overrunning their cavalry in the woods. He flew from left to right, from front to back and slowly Jon saw the enemy numbers diminishing even if their shrieks were still loud enough to hurt his eardrums. At one point the front lines had been overrun but before Jon could react to the blowing of their horn and intervene, another White Walker had been killed and most of the wights that had infiltrated his forces dropped down and the few remaining ones were defeated in no time.
Finally the tide turned and the wights started to retreat. The fight was almost over and it was none too soon. Jon had felt Rhaegar waver in the air several times by now. Spewing so many bursts of fire for such a long time took a lot of energy. The moment Rhaegal felt his human was looking for a landing spot, the dragon gave in to his fatigue and almost tumbled down.
Since Jon was near the north side of the lake close to the woods he quickly landed near the end of the line of burning spikes. Sandor's forces were some three hundred feet away. He could not see them because of the smoke from the fires but he knew they were close enough. He quickly dismounted so Rhaegal could lie down and rest a bit. As far as he could see in the dark, all activity had stopped. No more shrieks were heard, no more arrows rained down on the lake. He gathered that the battle had well and truly ended when he heard the cheering of the living increase.
Jon sat down for a moment and let it all sink in. He had never experienced something like that before. He still heard the echo of the otherworldly shrieks of the wights, still felt the countless eerie blue eyes staring at him. He kept picturing the sheer numbers of human and animal remains that kept attacking even as dragonfire burned through their ranks. This enemy had no fear of defeat,. They needed neither food nor rest. Jon was about to praise their luck that they somehow feared daylight and they were probably running off to hide somewhere safe before dawn when a shiver ran over his back. Something was wrong. He looked toward his forces. They all stood there facing the lake. The cheering had stopped. A horn blew three times in quick succession.
Jon turned his head and looked right into the eyes of a White Walker that stood in the middle of the frozen lake. His white icy skin and blue light in his eyes somehow made him visible despite the darkness. The creature didn't move and stared at Jon with something akin to a smirk on his icy face. Jon got back to his feet and watched mesmerised as the White Walker raised his arms. All the wights that had fallen down like lifeless dolls when they had slayed the White Walkers stood back up and opened their eyes once more. Hundreds or mayhap thousands of undead heads turned towards Jon. More wights rose from below the water and crept back up from under the ice. Apparently drowning was not a final death for these strange creatures. A large part of this newly formed force marched towards Jon as one.
"Fuck!" Jon turned to Rhaegal intent on mounting him and taking to the sky once more. He paled. Several wights that hadn't been defeated before had used the distraction caused by the resurrection of their allies on the lake to crawl closer to the green dragon without anyone noticing. Rhaegal screeched in agony, let out a large flame and flapped his wings to get rid of the ones trying to climb him. Viserion still in the air dove toward them and did his best to hinder the large force that was advancing on Jon.
The temperature dropped and the gap between him and the lake froze solid. Realising that there was no opportunity to mount Rhaegal and that his only option was to stand his ground there and then, Jon took Blackfyre in his right hand and a dragonglass dagger in his left. He hardly had time to count to ten before the first wights were upon him. Luckily for Jon it were mindless animal wights and the Valyrian steel of Blackfyre sliced through them. Those he missed ran straight by and jumped Rhaegal instead.
The wave of undead human wights that was almost upon him had not learned to fight in formation. Jon's sword sliced through them while he stepped backwards in an effort to join forces with Rhaegal. The dragon was still fighting of these nasty little wights. Jon felt Rhaegal's annoyance. He could only compare it to a human trying to get rid of red ants after stepping into one of their nests. They were a pest but couldn't really harm you. They kept Rhaegal busy though and he was no real help to Jon except for the fact that he provided an obstacle so they could not get to Jon from all sides.
Despite Viserion's efforts, the wights not minding the danger they were in, kept running around their burning comrades that Viserion continued to put on fire. They seemed not to mind that many didn't make it. Those that did make it attacked Jon with deadly intent.
Jon still standing his ground was getting encumbered by the carcasses that were piling up all around him. Avoiding a large swing of a rusty looking sword, he stepped sideways and his left foot stepped on some bones and slipped between them. Trying to avoid losing his balance, he shifted his foot a few times to reach the ground beneath the bones. That proved to be a dumb thing to do. Even though he managed to stay upright as he had intended, his left foot was stuck now and he could no longer move from the spot where he was standing. Now he was the one who was trapped.
He felt something sting his left arm but ignored it and kept swinging both his sword and his dagger. He looked around assessing how many wights he still had to face when he saw the White Walker advance toward him. Still trying to free his foot, he slew five more wights before the ice creature was upon him. Jon dropped his dragonglass dagger and took his sword in both hands. Ignoring the cold the creature emitted he tried to concentrate and make his mind go blank. Time slowed down.
This was it. If he did not defeat the enemy before him, the dead would win. Never mind what happened with the rest of the battle. He realised that the Night King waiting in the far north knew this as well. If Jon died out here today, the enemy would win the final battle no matter how long it took to get to that point. Jon was necessary to defeat the ultimate White Walker he had seen in his vision. He was the key to the survival of the entire realm. If he died out here today… A vision of Dany walking alongside the cliffs of Dragonstone flitted through his mind. He gritted his teeth. He would defend her. He would fight off every last undead abomination until he no longer drew breath.
Jon concentrated and blocked the first few trust of the White Walker's icy sword but was helpless when the creature punched him in the stomach and sliced his thigh. Without his footwork his options were limited. He couldn't dodge, only counter. Jon barely countered the next swing in time. His left arm hurt from the force of the attack. He saw the follow-up stroke coming towards him in slow motion. He realised his parry would come too late. The icy tip came nearer and was perfectly aimed to pierce his heart. Jon was out of options. This was it. Humanity would lose the war. He made a last effort to speed up his counterstroke and refused to close his eyes.
A big shadow next to him and a loud crack were all that he noticed at first. He tried to make sense of the fact that he was still breathing. He made a conscious effort to calm down the loud erratic beating of his heart making sure to take deep breaths. His vision cleared and he could distinguish the White Walker in his line of vision. The ice creature lay a few feet away but was already rising back to his feet his eerie eyes fixed solely on Jon. Jon broke their gaze and looked up to his right.
"My left foot. I'm stuck." Jon informed Mag the Mighty of his predicament. The giant pulled Jon up, making the bones shift easily and put him down again on the other side of the heap of carcasses. Compared to the giant Jon looked like a toddler.
"Dragonrider free. Fight on!" And the giant pulled out a large tree from behind him and swept at the enemy that kept coming at them. Jon looked at Rhaegal. The dragon had finally gotten rid of most of the wights. "Fly up, Rhaegal. Defend me from the sky." Rhaegal was quick to obey. Soon he joined his fire to Viserion's. Both dragons were now working together to keep more wights from reaching Jon.
Still separated from the rest of their forces, Jon looked around assessing his predicament. A large host of wights stood between Sandor's cavalry and Jon. Together with Mag the Mighty he tried to stay alive until help could reach them or the last wight had been destroyed. From where he was standing he couldn't check what was happening on the other side of the lake. He reckoned the gap at the south side of the lake that had protected his forces would long have frozen back over by now. But neither Rhaegal nor Viserion was keen to leave his side and help the men over there. They both stayed to defend their human from the enemy that clearly targeted their human.
Mag the Mighty was doing his utmost to hold of the wights but the giant was slowly being manoeuvred away from Jon. This was no mindless fight. The White Walkers had a clear strategy. Jon kept swinging his sword hardly aiming at anything consciously. Technique didn't matter against these wights. He had taken his dagger back out and swung both arms from left to right and up and down creating fluid figures moving his feet the entire time, turning, ducking, stretching.
It felt as if he was performing some sort of strange dance. But for now it worked and he succeeded in keeping the enemy from slicing him to pieces. He tried not to think too far ahead. For each wight he killed another took his place and many were standing by waiting for their turn. Soon he would once again be in danger of losing his manoeuvrability because of the heap of carcasses that was growing around him. He stepped backward trying to find a natural barrier to protect his back. He had not the faintest idea how long he had been at it but felt his lungs burning and his arms growing heavy.
The White Walker that had been thrown off his feet by the giant earlier was content to stand by and watch the proceedings. Rhaegal targeted him with dragonfire but somehow a cold shield around the White Walker saw to it that the fire didn't reach him. Jon changed tactics and tried to fight his way toward him but was blocked at every turn. He felt his sword arm burn from fatigue but kept on slicing. He had no choice. It was as if the White Walker sensed his weakening. The ice creature finally stepped forward, intent on facing Jon once more.
"Mag, shield my back." Jon called out realising that the wights that had stepped aside to let the White Walker through were now trying to attack him from behind.
"I try." The giant answered but was being swarmed from all sides.
The screeching of the enemy seemed to intensify for some reason. Jon's ears were hurting. The noise prevented him from hearing much of what was happening elsewhere on the battlefield. That was the reason why Jon saw Jaime Lannister before he heard him. The man came charging through the woods on horseback. Together with a small group, he had circled around and came from the north side heading straight for Jon, slicing wights left and right. Immediately hundreds of wights changed direction to prevent them from reaching Jon. Sandor's forces were still pinned down by the enemy but somehow Jaime Lannister perhaps because he had the element of surprise on his side or perhaps because the man was driven by an extra motivation: saving the son of Prince Rhaegar Targaryen, had succeeded to come closer than anyone else.
Rhaegal sensing Jon's thoughts burned through the group of wights heading for Jaime Lannister. Before the man was able to reach Jon, his horse was struck by an ice spear. He jumped of his horse moments before the beast fell down. Landing on his feet, he pulled out a torch and lit it using the remnants of one of the fires lit by the dragons. His sword in one hand and the torch in the other a determined Jaime Lannister fought his way through countless wights and managed to reach Jon.
Jon nodded at him and they positioned themselves back to back.
"You have no Valyrian steel sword, I gather?" Jon asked between heavy breaths.
"Only a precious Valyria dagger in my belt." Jaime replied.
"Then leave the White Walker to me." Jon ordered.
Jaime at first seemed to obey him and Jon turned and parried the first swing from the advancing White Walker.
"Giant! To us!" Jaime roared at Mag the Mighty.
"I try." The giant yelled back.
The rest of the Jaime's cavalry were still trying to fight their way to their leader. More wights however appeared seemingly out of nowhere to block their path. Jaime Lannister was calculating his options quickly.
"Hold on, my Prince." Jaime encouraged him.
"I try." Jon mimicked the speech of the giant. "My arms are tiring though."
"Then we better end this quickly." Jaime lit a few more wights on fire. "Gods there are many."
Jon didn't reply. He saw a second White Walker closing in on them. "Lannister, look to my right!"
"See him." Came the curt reply.
"Lose your steel sword. It will shatter when it comes into contact with his icy weapon." Jon warned him.
"Torch?" Jaime enquired.
"They extinguish it with the cold they are emitting." Jon yelled back almost deaf himself from the never ending screeches of the wights.
"Damn." Jaime threw his torch into an approaching wight and reached for a dragonglass dagger seeing the second White Walker would come in range soon.
"Aim for his chest." Jon advised him before engaging his own opponent with an offensive swing having found some extra energy now that he saw his chances at survival rise again with the presence of Jaime Lannister.
Jaime changed his mind at the last moment. His hand didn't go for the handle of the dragonglass dagger. That weapon was too short. He would be run through before he could make his first strike and if he threw it and missed the correct spot, he would be left without a means of defending himself. Instead he dug in his pocket and grabbed a number of dragonglass arrowheads and threw them at the White Walker with all his might.
It was a desperate move but a genius one at the same time. Several arrowheads missed their target. A few touched the White Walker backwards with their blunt side, but two hit their target with the pointy end. One penetrated the creature's eye. The other reached the intended target. It hit the White Walker in the middle of his chest and the creature exploded before the eyes of a bewildered Jaime Lannister.
"Fuck," was all the reaction he was able to get out. He saw hundreds of wights drop dead before them. Gathering his wits he approached Jon and almost pushed him to the side trying to take on the remaining White Walker himself. The ice creature however was firmly fixed on his target. No matter what Jaime tried. It turned and went after Jon.
Jon was losing ground. No longer able to match the force of the strikes he used the dodging tactic he had learned and each time took step sideward so he could parry the strike only after it lost most of its momentum.
Jaime used the last piece of dragonglass he carried on him and hurled the dragonglass dagger at the White Walker. It missed the optimal target but still embedded itself in the swordarm of the creature.
The White Walker must have felt the impact because it turned its head to look at the object that had managed to pierce him. That distraction caused enough of a delay for Jon to switch from defense to offense. He aimed Blackfyre at the creature's chest and when the White Walker blocked the strike with less force than before, Jon could slowly force their linked weapons upwards. He used his left hand to plunge his own dragonglass dagger in the Walker's chest. Exhausted, Jon sank to his knees after the White Walker exploded and all the wights surrounding them dropped lifeless on the ground. Jaime was with him in two steps and helped him back on his feet.
"We need to get out of here." He looked around frantically and gestured to the group of his men that had had managed to come within forty feet but stood staring unbelievingly at the lifeless heap of wights and dead animals. "Bring me a horse! Quick!"
He helped Jon mount the animal and took a seat behind him. As soon as they left the spot, Viserion and Rhaegal started burning the wights that had dropped down after the defeat of the White Walkers. Jon could feel their exhaustion.
"The dragons can't keep this up. We need to destroy the last of the White Walkers. We are going the wrong way."
Jaime didn't respond. He stopped his horse only when they were safe behind their own lines at the south side of the lake
"You are exhausted, my Prince. I'll go after them if you will hand me Blackfyre." He dismounted and helped Jon get of the horse.
"We will all go if it is still necessary." Edd Tollet had reached them. "However I no longer think it is. Look! The enemy is retreating."
Nobody dared to cheer this time. Everyone just stared at the lake. The wights that were still standing had stopped fighting and were indeed retreating.
"We need to burn every single wight inert on the ice. We can't risk another resurrection." Jon spoke while breathing heavily. "Can someone hand me something to drink?"
The men looked around. "Eat some snow for now." Edd Tollet advised him. "I'll see if I can find someone with a flask." Jon found a fresh patch of snow and cleaned his hands before he stuffed some snow into his mouth. He instantly felt refreshed. Next he washed his face with the fast melting snow.
"I will take the men out on the lake and help the dragons set fire to the carcasses that are still out there." Edd Tollet volunteered.
"A horse pulled up and Sandor dismounted. He had a gash on the unburnt part of his forehead and had to keep that eye closed. "Take my horse." He held the reins out to Edd Tollet. "Go burn the stupid cunts before they come back a third time." Sandor took Jon's arm to help keep him upright.
Edd Tollet didn't waste a moment, mounted the big horse and rounded up some men. "We will concentrate on the side closest to the sea. Jon, can you ask the dragons to take care of the ones on the other side? I'd be pissed if they burned me."
"Consider it done." Jon answered trying to tie a piece of cloth over the wound on his thigh. He had hardly felt it was there before but now could see and feel it bleeding profusely.
Sandor helped him to sit down and knelt beside him. "Let me see to your arm." He turned to Lannister. "You take over bandaging his thigh. So he can fucking keep his arm still."
"Thanks." Jon said when he reopened his eyes after communicating with Rhaegal and noticed that both men had finished securing a cloth on his arm and thigh. "I'll let a healer look at those cuts as soon as he has helped the more severely wounded. Sandor, let us see to your cut now."
"Dragonrider!" Orell came running over. "There is a White Walker on one of the rafts. Some of the dead are using the five large rafts to try and reach the ships. Send the dragons over to them."
"Rhaegal to me!" Jon yelled out loud but repeated the order in his head. He asked for Viserion too.
"Stand back. Give me space. The green dragon will land here any moment. Stand back!" Jon yelled once more.
Jaime shook his head when he saw Jon scramble awkwardly on top of his dragon. "Stubborn Targaryen," he mumbled and jumped on the first horse he could confiscate, racing in the direction of the coastline.
Interlude 32: Brienne beyond the Wall
She had been so glad when she received the summons from the Targaryen Prince. When she set out toward Eastwatch together with Lord Dayne and Lord Tyrell, twenty volunteers from Winterfell had accompanied them. More men had joined their small caravan when they passed through Wintertown and ever since small groups from other northern settlements had asked to travel alongside to the Wall. As ordered by the Prince, they had stopped at the Dreadfort and had picked up the men that had been incarcerated there. These men were eager to be provided a chance to prove themselves beyond the Wall. If they aided the Targaryen Prince in his fight against the enemy beyond the Wall they would regain their honour and be allowed to resume their previous position.
By the time they all had reached Eastwatch, she rode at the head of a host of approximately two hundred men strong. A large contingent from the Last Hearth had been their last addition. Lord Osric Umber, the third son of the Greatjon Umber had assumed leadership but regarded her as his second in command. Although she presumed he had been given such instructions by the Targaryen Prince, she was flattered anyway by the number of responsibilities he entrusted her with. Even Tyrell and Dayne deferred to her when she decided when to stop or where to set up camp.
Never before had she felt so well-respected when dealing with trained men, some of them seasoned veterans who had lived through more than one battle. At Winterfell she had already been pleased with the way she had been accepted despite several critical glances from visiting Lords and some of the houseguards. But travelling among these men had been a revelation.
She wondered what her father would think if he could see her now. She had been vague in her descriptions of her stay at Winterfell. They all thought she was just visiting the North in the company of Lord Edric Dayne and Loras Tyrell. They had even hinted that a possible betrothal between her and one of these young Lords would be most graciously welcomed. She had kept silent on purpose wanting them to hear of her new position as a Kingsguard either when she received her white cloak or when she could write them of the exact date she would be knighted.
She had trusted the Targaryen Prince implicitly and was grateful for the honour he had bestowed on her by promising her this exclusive position. But as soon as she had entered the large gates of Eastwatch at the head of a host of two hundred and fifty men strong, she had been met by one disappointment after the other. Her proud smile had dimmed when she realised that the Prince was not there and the only ones from his entourage left at Eastwatch were Gendry, the skilled blacksmith and close friend of the Prince and the Prince's white direwolf. Prince Aegon had flown off again, this time to fight without them at Pyke and after a short but successful battle, rumours said he was now at Dragonstone for some supposedly urgent meetings.
Next she had been introduced to two men of the Night's Watch who claimed they were personal guards of the Prince whenever he was present beyond the Wall. Lady Brienne had tried to reign in the acute feeling of jealousy. Not revealing her own ambitions she had subtly enquired after the extent of their relationship with the Prince and now she only felt pity for the two Targaryen loyalists who had been exiled to Wall for nothing more than being loyal to Prince Rhaegar Targaryen.
Back then she had been able to comfort herself with the message that Sandor Clegane had sent that the Prince would return any day now and that they were bound for the place where the real fight would go down, a fight against a formidable enemy. They had left the next day and Lady Brienne had looked forward to her first real battle as Kingsguard to Aegon Targaryen.
It had all come to naught. She had been severely let down. Here she stood at the railing of a ship anchored near the east coast of this frozen land of mountains and lakes. She pulled her furs tighter around her when the wind blew hard from the north. Despite the many layers of clothing that she wore, she was chilled to the bones. For the first time doubt entered her mind.
She had plenty of time stuck on this accursed ship to ponder whether she had made the right choice, whether she had not made a mistake to trust the young Prince blindly. She had been so certain that Prince Aegon genuinely esteemed her and truly didn't mind the fact that she was a woman. She had believed him when he had promised her the certainty of a knighthood and a position in the renowned Kingsguard. She would be the first woman in Westeros ever to be granted such an honour and he would be the one to grant her this.
That is the reason why it was such a shock when he ordered her to lead the evacuations at Hardhome. She had been slightly appeased when he had explained to her that she was given the responsibility of tens of thousands of souls. The forces he left behind, including Edric Dayne and Loras Tyrell would be under her command. She would lead the defences here in the event that part of the enemy managed to escape the traps they had laid out and came for them.
When she had protested that she had been present at the war council and that everyone considered them safe at sea, the Prince had walked her to a more private spot. Keeping his voice low he had explained to her that unlike the others he was sure that the enemy was not to be underestimated. He was of the opinion that they had the uncanny ability to find living souls and come for them no matter how many wights perished in the attempt. He advised her to remain alert at all times and make sure that everything was ready in case the dead found a way to reach them.
He had pointed out that the enemy could command dead animals as well. Perhaps they would send her an enormous flock of dead eagles, ravens or any other kind of bird. They might even try to reach the ships on primitive rafts. Somehow he was convinced that the goal of the enemy was to recruit the Free Folk living at Hardhome. A scroll with recommendations from her future Lord Commander, Ser Gerold had tipped the scale.
She had let herself be persuaded and diligently led the evacuation. She had been mollified to notice that the Free Folk had no qualms with her being a woman. She had only needed to appease the ones that were disappointed that they had not been allowed to fight. She had understood all too well what they were feeling and had offered the most vocal ones a crucial task in the safeguarding of the ships. The evacuation had not gone flawlessly but after half a day of arguing and motivational speeches, the ships had all left the shore and had thrown anchor while still within viewing distance of the coast. At least they could spot the shoreline during daylight when the weather was clear enough.
But now it was long after dark. Most of the night had come and gone and nothing had happened. She was still standing here at the railing of the ship with no more responsibility than to appoint lookouts and see to it that no fights broke out amongst the crew and Free Folk. Everyone was tired and uncomfortable. It had been a tight squeeze to accommodate so many of the Free Folk on just fifty ships. Most of the people on board scarcely had room to sit down.
She shook her head trying to shake the doubts that kept creeping up on her. Would the Prince really see her as an equal to his other Kingsguards? She kept reminding herself that safeguarding fifty ships filled to the brim with passengers and their crew was a big responsibility. She would not let him down.
She took the looking glass out of her belt and scanned the ships that were in her line of sight. As long as they all flew a white banner, everything was okay. The prearranged signal for danger was a red flag next to a lantern so they could spot it after dark. She tried not to bump into too many passengers when she wove her way through the small groups of people sitting on the moist wooden floor of the upper deck in order to check the visible banners in person. All white. She sighed not really knowing what she preferred. On the one hand, if the enemy showed itself that meant that the Targaryen Prince had not side-lined her but had given her a worthy task. On the other hand, if the enemy didn't show, more than fifteen thousand people would not be put in harm's way. Dawn would soon be upon them. The sky was no longer as dark as before. Soon it would be turning red and then the sun would be up not long after.
Edric Dayne came running up to her jumping over legs and circumventing curled up bodies of sleeping Free Folk. "Lady Brienne! Lady Brienne, the ship to our right just raised the red banner!"
Brienne cursed her moment of inattention. She didn't need her spyglass to see the red banner. The lantern and the red flag were clearly visible with the naked eye.
"There!" Edric Dayne pointed at the shoreline. "Rafts are coming our way."
Brienne used her spy glass now to study the indicated spot. She counted five large rafts, each carrying uh something. She had to look again to believe what she saw. There were approximately twenty moving corpses sitting on each of these rafts holding on for dear life or perhaps life was not the correct term. The Prince had not exaggerated. They were at least half-decayed but still moving and carrying weapons. And their eyes! She held her breath for a moment but then regrouped and studied the other rafts.
There it was. Just as it had been described during the war council. Wights were almost always in the company of an ice creature. It stood upright on the raft that still was the farthest distance from her ship. She released the breath she had been holding and studied the White Walker thoroughly, making a mental list of all the weapons it carried.
She handed her spyglass to Edric Dayne. "Here have a look. I will raise the alarm so the archers know to take their positions. The Targaryen Prince had told her that every member of the Free Folk could shoot a mean arrow. According to him, children were taught this skill as soon as they could walk on their own. He had provided each ship with enough bows and arrows with special magic glass arrowheads. Her task had been to select the best archers available on each boat and give each of them a fixed position. If ever the enemy showed itself, they would all know where to stand and every corner of each of the ship would have its defenses ready in no time. She had done all he had ordered. She knew the scroll carrying the instructions of her future Lord Commander, Ser Gerold by hard.
She had not wasted the afternoon on the ship. The crew and the more capable members of the Free Folk on the ships had been armed with dragonglass axes, daggers and longspears. Everyone had been given instructions and knew their positions. The only thing that had kept Lady Brienne from being bored were the short training sessions for small groups she led until everyone selected had shown her what he or she was capable of. She had been frustrated that she had not had the time to visit the other ships to check whether her orders had been carried out with the same vigil and to witness the skills of the defenders that had been picked out there.
She heard the scraping of iron chains that told her the anchor was being lifted. Hopefully the other ships were following the instructions to the letter and were doing the same thing. She checked her belt one more time counting the weapons she was carrying. Brienne, Edric and Loras had been allowed to take their pick from the crates Gendry had shown them at Eastwatch.
She hurried along the length of the ship and spotted Loras easily. He had been keeping the children company earlier and was still in their vicinity. She ordered him to help mobilise their defenses and soon enough the entire ship stood at the ready and was waiting for her orders.
"The rafts are looking precarious and the enemy does not seem comfortable upon them." Loras remarked. "Perhaps we should just ram them."
"It is a pathetic looking attempt of an attack," Edric concurred, "barely one hundred wights and only one White Walker."
"Remember what the Prince told us." Brienne cautioned him. "Don't underestimate them. They may look frail but they show no mercy. They have no sense of self-preservation. They are mindless puppets of the White Walker and most probably don't realise they have been sent on a suicide mission. Aim for the White Walker. Use only dragonglass or fire and aim for his chest. Chances are that if a clean shot can take out the White Walker the fight is over. I have been told that without the White Walker, these so-called wights become powerless."
"The ice creature has two ice spears, a long sword and a few daggers on him." Edric had studied the enemy thoroughly using Brienne's spyglass.
"As soon as the White Walker is within range, give the archers leave to shoot. Let them all fire simultaneously and aim for the White Walker." Edric and Loras nodded and each of them walked to a different part of the ship.
"Dragons!" Someone shouted and several others repeated the word.
Brienne looked up and saw the dragons approaching. Even if they were still far away, she understood they were flying at an enormous speed. She turned her head again to check the position of the enemy. The rafts were still approaching at a slow pace but the enemy had moved. The White Walker and all the wights had turned and were staring at the incoming dragons. The White Walker spread his legs to improve his balance and lifted an ice spear, ready to throw it at the first dragon to come into range.
Brienne held her breath. They needed to distract the White Walker or a spear might hurt one of the Prince's dragons. The silverwhite dragon had no rider and was on course to reach the rafts first. The green dragon appeared to have trouble keeping up.
"Nock!" Brienne shouted on the top of her voice.
She heard her shout being repeated by Loras and Edric respectively at the bow and stern. She witnessed the white dragon dive down towards the rafts.
"Loose!" she yelled and watched with satisfaction as several arrows hit the White Walker's throwing arm. They couldn't aim for his chest since he was standing sideways to have a better view of the incoming dragon. Her action had some result though. The White Walker lost his balance slightly and the ice spear that he had been throwing changed direction and missed its target by a wide margin. The weapon fell into the water and drifted harmlessly upon the waves. Viserion swept over the rafts and lit three of them on fire.
"Nock", she yelled again seeing that the White Walker had picked up a second ice spear.
In the meantime Jon was rather helpless on Rhaegal. The dragon had trouble flying stable enough for his human to stay steady on his back.
'Fly over the ships, Viserion. Make the White Walker turn around and face the archers on the ship.' He sent the thought to Rhaegal hoping his brother would pick it up. He needed all his concentrations not to fall off and couldn't merge his mind with the dragons as he usually did when flying in the air. Viserion either came up with the idea himself or had heard them and instantly complied.
Lady Brienne admired the way the white dragon flew low over the fleet followed by the green dragon. Both dragons circled around but only the white dragon advanced towards the enemy. Brienne immediately grasped the opportunity when as expected the White Walker turned and faced them now, his torso a clear target for the first time.
"Loose!" She shouted. And lo and behold, the White Walker eerie eyes no longer looked up at the dragons but instead stared at the ships and the incoming arrows. Lady Brienne shivered but her eyes grew wide when she saw the ice creature lift his arms sideways and let the arrows impact without making any attempt to save himself. Her mouth fell open when he exploded in thousands of tiny ice crystals. The cheers of the men on board made her lift her gaze from the strange heap. Widening her sight she noticed that the wights on the two remaining rafts had all dropped down and lay lifeless on the wooden beams.
The white dragon made one more dive and soon only a few black pieces of burnt wood were drifting towards their position. She found it all rather anticlimactic. Now that they were no longer in any danger she relaxed and looked for the Prince on the back of the green dragon. She bit her lip when she saw the green dragon having trouble to hover over her ship. From this close by she could see it had a small hole in one of his wings.
"Without counter order, you can bring everyone back ashore soon. But wait till after noon." The Targaryen Prince yelled at her.
She nodded and shouted her response. "Noon, Hardhome."
She waved after him and her eyes kept following the two dragons that flew very slowly back towards the shore.
***
Before he left Hardhome, Jon gave Lady Brienne detailed instructions for their travels south. Edric and Loras would accompany her. Gendry planned to travel to Winterfell in the company of the small group from Winterfell and Wintertown. He would visit there for some time and then continue south to Dragonstone or King's Landing if all went according to plan.
At first Jon had wanted to send Ghost with Lady Brienne who was set to sail from Eastwatch to Dragonstone. But after communicating with his direwolf, it became clear that Ghost would rather travel overland, not even accompanying Gendry for the first part of the journey. Ghost preferred to travel at his own speed. Jon was worried for his direwolf's safety but had relented acknowledging the fact that the direwolf had a right to make his own decisions. He was not a pet but a companion and friend. He just hoped that Ghost would not get lost on his way south.
*