"Who shot the arrow!" Cole demanded, his voice ringing out.
The sky was a canvas of deepening night, and the oppressive darkness of the Haunted Forest crept towards the Wall, bringing with it a terrifying chill. Sentinel trees stood like silent, ominous figures, their weirwood eyes seeming to weep tears of blood.
Earlier that evening, Cole had seen his father enter Mance Rayder's tent atop the Wall. Now, however, all was chaos. Fires flickered everywhere, and wildlings and cavalry were tangled in a brutal, hand-to-hand fight.
Cole tossed his crutches aside, dragging his injured leg as he struggled forward.
"Cole!" Pyp called after him. "Where are you going?"
"Down," Cole gasped, the word escaping him with great effort.
He saw Pyp glance back at the surging wave of wildlings, a dark tide threatening to engulf the Ice Wolf Battle Flag.
"Who's in command here?" A voice cut through the din from the east.
It was a group of brothers of the Night's Watch. In the dim light, Cole recognized their leader: a short, stout man with a bald head, a double chin, and a frog-like face. Behind him stood the thin, stern figure of Alliser Thorne.
Cole realized that reinforcements from Eastwatch had arrived. A surge of anger rose within him. Could they have been the ones who shot the arrow?
"Lord Snow," Cole heard Alliser's voice, tinged with a familiar gloating.
The stout, double-chinned man looked at Cole. "Are you Jon Snow?"
"Yes, who are you?" Cole frowned, his irritation growing.
"Keep an eye on him," the man ordered the two Night's Watch brothers beside him.
Pyp stepped in front of Cole. "What do you want?"
"Boy, are you going to protect this chameleon?"
"Chameleon? Who are you talking about?" Cole asked, his eyes narrowing.
"Of course, it's you, Lord Snow," Ser Thorne answered, a sneer on his face.
Cole's face was cold. "I'm not a chameleon. Get out of my way. I need to go down."
"Don't even think about going anywhere, traitor. You're accused of breaking your oath, Jon Snow," the double-chinned man declared, then bellowed, "Seize him!"
"I advise you to consider your actions, Night's Watch." A new voice joined them. Cole turned to see a familiar face: Quint, his father's guard.
The double-chinned man's expression changed instantly upon seeing Quint's grey cloak. If there was one person Janos Slynt wished to avoid, it was a Stark. His betrayal in battle had led to Eddard Stark's imprisonment in King's Landing.
"Quint, we have to go down. Father needs help," Cole said to the Winterfell retainer.
Quint nodded.
"I'll go with you too," Pyp suddenly offered.
"Me too," Grenn added. "I can help you, Cole."
"If you don't mind," the short Nefertari Vivi chimed in.
Cole looked at them, a wave of gratitude washing over him.
The great tent thrummed with tension, the lines of battle threatening to blur at any moment. Harris Moran, the captain of the guard, stood protectively behind Duke Eddard.
"I swear by the old gods," Stark told the King-beyond-the-Wall.
Mance Rayder hesitated for a moment, then lowered his sword.
Just then, a guttural wail echoed both inside and outside the tent. "Save me, save me! Ah, ah, ah!"
Harris swiftly swung his sword, cleaving a dark shadow in two. His blade sliced through it.
"Watch your feet!" Mance Rayder suddenly roared.
Harris froze. Something clamped onto his legs. His eyes darted down. The black shadow he had cut in half now had only its upper body remaining. His legs were firmly clutched by the creature. Startled, Harris used his other foot to kick the monster.
"Get away!"
The wildling king appeared behind him. Mance grabbed a pair of tongs and a burning fire stick, pressing it directly onto the monster's hand. It howled instantly, as if in agony, and Harris quickly pulled his legs free.
"What is that?" Eddard asked, shocked.
"Dead," Mance Rayder said calmly. "This is our enemy, Stark."
"A White Walker?" Harris asked, aghast.
Mance shook his head. "This is a wight. He was one of our own before he died." The wildling king poured wine over the dead creature, then threw down the fire. He motioned to everyone. "Go, get out, quickly!"
The tent's flames began to spread. Mance explained to Eddard, "Only fire can burn dead wights."
Eddard nodded.
Chaos reigned outside. Wildlings and Winterfell guards formed a desperate circle.
"Stop them!" Eddard shouted to the wildling king.
Some wildlings charged forward with weapons, only to be cut down by the Northmen guards who raised their shields.
Just then, a giant riding a mammoth thundered towards them. With a swing of his massive club, the giant sent a Winterfell guard named Ferry flying.
Their formation instantly shattered, leaving only Captain Harris Moran beside Eddard.
"Lord Eddard," Harris helped Eddard to his feet after he fell.
"I'm fine," Eddard Stark stood up. As soon as he found his balance, his sword flashed out, striking a wildling who was preparing to attack directly in the face. He exhaled a cloud of white mist and pulled out his sword.
Harris looked at the wailing wildling behind him, knowing the Duke had saved him.
Several guards rallied around them, and soon five or six Winterfell guards had gathered. The guards, led by Eddard, fought and retreated towards the foot of the Wall.
A steady stream of Stark soldiers poured out of the city gate. They were getting closer and closer to the Wall.
"Father!" Eddard heard a familiar voice.
After a fierce struggle, Cole had finally found Lord Eddard. He was unharmed, which brought immense relief. Joy laced his voice, and the worry in his heart finally eased.
Cole walked quickly towards him.
"Cole!" He heard his father's shout.
Time seemed to slow at that moment. He and his father were less than five feet apart, yet the voice seemed to come from a great distance. Slowly turning his head, a colossal figure almost engulfed Cole. He saw the massive head of a giant and a club as thick as a tree branch raised high.
Getting closer and closer, Cole instinctively stretched out his arms to block it. He knew it was useless; he had witnessed the terrifying strength of giants in the wildling camps.
Suddenly, Cole felt a jarring impact, and he was thrown violently to one side. His face hit the snow, the cold biting at his skin.
Ignoring the pain in his leg, Cole scrambled up. What he saw was a scene of utter despair.
Beep, beep!!!
His mind went blank, only a buzzing sound filling his ears. Cole felt as though he had left this world. He stumbled forward, hearing the distant sounds of fighting and the blare of horns, but Cole's eyes were fixed only on the figure lying in the snow.
They seemed to be cheering. Cole turned his head mechanically. The last thing he saw was a rolling black flag approaching from the east, with a white bird flying on it.