Chapter 385: The False Alarm Incident (Part 1)
"The night before last, I was having the best dream when suddenly everything outside turned into a racket. Meave and I went out to look, and the beacons on all four outer walls were lit. There were panicked soldiers running and shouting everywhere... honestly, it was like the end of the world," Arya muttered in complaint. "Later, someone chased us back to our rooms, and we didn't sleep a wink all night. Then the next morning, we heard someone rode over from the Wall saying it was a false alarm. So annoying!"
This girl's habit of jumping into conversations uninvited hadn't changed a bit. Egger glanced at her helplessly. "I wasn't asking you. Don't interrupt when the adults are speaking."
Yam smiled and answered as he led Egger toward the central keep. "As Lady Stark said, it caused quite a stir. But 'making the whole Gift lose a night of sleep' is secondary. The real trouble lies in the massive amount of manpower and resources required to reset the beacon pyres once they've been burned. Our inventory absolutely cannot withstand a second false alarm. Ser Denys Mallister, commander of the Shadow Tower, personally visited the Gorge the day after the alarm to investigate and sent the results back to Queenscrown. I've been too busy handling internal town affairs to study the details, but for the specifics of this false alarm, you can ask Ser Warner Buckwell. I've already sent word for the entire senior leadership of Queenscrown to wait for you in the conference room."
"Good. Let's go," Egger nodded, then looked at Arya. "You come along too, and don't wander off. I'll deal with your behavior after the meeting!"
A moment later, in the familiar conference room, Egger reunited with his most trusted subordinates and began formally listening to a comprehensive report on the Gift's recent situation.
"It wasn't exactly a false alarm," Ser Warner Buckwell explained to him. "It started with the wights destroying the weirwood groves on both sides of the Gorge. About three days after you left for King's Landing, the groves on the northern side of the canyon were essentially annihilated. The dead immediately began destroying the remaining small patches inside the Gorge. The north face bore the brunt of it first. You've personally inspected the site, my Lord; you should understand what that means: from that moment on, every move the wights made... was visible to the patrols racing back and forth along the south side of the canyon."
The wights are destroying weirwoods right under the Watch's nose? Is the Others' wariness of these trees so great that they won't leave a single one? Egger's eyes flickered as he recalled the general geography of the Gorge—even at its narrowest point, it was over a mile wide, far exceeding the range of any weapon the Night's Watch possessed. This meant that while the wights were busy on the opposite cliff, the men on the southern side could only watch them work, unable to do a thing.
"What's more troublesome is that this didn't just happen in one spot; it occurred all along the canyon line wherever weirwoods existed," added Humphrey Hill, Queenscrown's chief logistics officer. "Can you imagine the awkwardness, my Lord? A patrol's job is to detect where the enemy appears and raise the alarm, but now, along the eastern two-thirds of the Gorge—a defensive line dozens of miles long—looking north from any point reveals wights clinging to the cliff faces like ants, using every means to destroy the weirwoods. They don't fear heights or exhaustion. If they fall, as long as their bones aren't completely shattered, they just crawl back up and keep working. Just watching it breeds despair."
"Under these circumstances, 'patrolling' is entirely meaningless. The Gorge has effectively entered a state of early combat. The main forces of the Shadow Tower, Westwatch-by-the-Bridge, and Ice Bay Port have all left their fortresses and spread out to every point where the dead might cross, pitching tents and keeping watch 24/7 near the caches of wildfire and weapons," Warner said with a bitter smile. "The enemy outnumbers us dozens of times over. They don't eat or sleep, and they work across the entire line at all hours. On our side... if we count the older children and the women, we have just enough people to ensure every spot is watched, but humans need rest and rotation. Ser Denys has sent every available man to the Gorge and immediately requested reinforcements from Queenscrown. Within the authority you granted us, we made a major mobilization, sending half of our mobile forces to the Gorge. That has temporarily eased the manpower shortage, but Ser Denys is still sending ravens daily begging for more men..."
"If I had to watch thousands of wights cutting trees under my nose every day, I'd be nervous enough to call for every living person in the world, too," Yam shrugged with a cough. "Wait, let's not get sidetracked—we were discussing the false alarm. Complaints and specific situational reports can wait for later."
"Right, there's so much to report that it's hard to stop once I start," Warner slapped his forehead, bringing the topic back to the alarm. "Since it isn't flat ground, even though the weirwoods on the steep canyon walls are few, the wight army worked day and night for nearly a week before the north slope was completely cleared. We discussed it at the time—if they wanted to continue destroying the weirwoods on the south slope of the Milkwater, they would be exposed to the defenders' high-ground ranged attacks. Everyone agreed: either the other side would go quiet for a while, or they would launch a formal general assault. So, nerves were frayed in anticipation. Sure enough, after only one quiet day—four nights ago—a new recruit on the night watch heard strange noises from the bottom of the canyon. After reporting to his squad leader and tossing a torch down, they saw dozens of dark figures crossing the frozen Milkwater at the base of the canyon."
"And then they lit the beacons and sent the signal of an invasion?" The room went quiet for a few seconds. Egger realized the first part of the report was over. After a moment of silence, he spoke with a grave expression: "That wasn't a false alarm at all. Even if I were personally standing watch on the front line and saw wights crossing the river after throwing a torch, I would have lit the beacon to raise the alarm, too."
"Exactly. And then came that night of chaos: the beacons were lit, three horn blasts sounded, and the troops who had just rotated back to their tents were woken up to join the defense. Soon, other spots along the Gorge reported dead men crossing the frozen river. Because it was too dark to see clearly, the defenders first threw a large number of wildfire bombs down, using the light to continue defending with dragonglass arrows and falling stones. We all thought this was the final battle. But after panicking and 'holding the line' for half the night, we realized the wights weren't climbing up at all... The front-line commanders realized what was happening and forcibly halted the fire. They waited until dawn to find that only a small number of wights had crossed to the south side during the night. All they had done was destroy the weirwoods on the banks of the Milkwater at the bottom of the canyon; they hadn't climbed up a single step to attack. The defenders worked all night, shot tens of thousands of arrows, and threw hundreds of jars of wildfire, only to kill a three-digit number of wights. In fact, we accidentally burned down several weirwoods for them, doing their work for them. And as soon as day broke, the enemy retreated back to the north and vanished!"
Egger's brow furrowed even tighter. The Gift had stockpiled a year's worth of supplies: hundreds of thousands of obsidian arrows, more than enough dragonglass melee weapons for every man, and thousands of wildfire weapons in various forms. In a pitched battle, provided the Others didn't interfere, they could handle a million wights. He had always felt they were well-prepared. But now, with a simple feint and probe, the enemy had baited out a tenth of their resources while accomplishing nothing. How could they sustain this?
"Let me guess: the next night, the other side continued sending small groups of wights to destroy weirwoods?"
"Exactly. The next day, Ser Denys ordered that every squad leader on the line must carefully distinguish whether the attack is a feint or a general assault before raising the alarm... But my Lord, you must understand: the Gorge isn't the Wall. The steep slopes of the cliff aren't as flat or reflective as a wall of ice. In the pitch black of night, trying to judge whether it's a 'feint' or a 'general assault' by gut feeling is incredibly difficult... one might say impossible. It's fine on a clear night with a bright moon, but if there are clouds, the defenders throw a jar of wildfire just to check on a sound. Our reserves are plentiful, but we can't just burn through them for fun!"
"It was the same way the night before last and last night. Tonight likely won't be an exception. The Others probably know that sending wights during the day exposes them to our fire, where we can use expert marksmen to pick them off and save arrows, so they only come after dark to destroy the forest at a leisurely pace. And the number of wights is never large; the density is extremely low. If we defend, attacking in the dark often takes dozens of arrows just to get lucky and kill one, and a jar of wildfire might not even touch a single wight—it's not worth it. But if we don't defend, hearing a group of living dead 'crunching' and 'snapping' weirwoods right under your feet makes anyone's skin crawl. You can't eat, you can't sleep; it is truly a dilemma."
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