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Chapter 428
🕑 Added 2025-01-29 12:54:24 +0000 UTCThe situation had shifted so rapidly, it completely exceeded Aegor's expectations.
After whispering a few carefully chosen words to Daenerys, ensuring she would reject any overtures of allegiance from the Reach, and respectfully seeing her off as she took to the skies on her dragon, Aegor expected another quiet and uneventful day in the Gift. Yet no sooner had he returned from the "dragon landing field" to the inner keep of Crown Town than Melisandre came hurrying toward him, her steps uncharacteristically frantic. Without preamble, she demanded to know where the queen had gone. After Aegor answered honestly, the usually composed priestess turned pale, accused him of recklessness in hysterical tones, and rushed back to her quarters without offering any explanation.
Aegor dismissed it as the eccentricities of a zealot—perhaps her mind had been burned out by too much magic. But reality soon proved that the Red Priestess wasn’t acting without reason.
After dinner, as darkness fell, the highest-level alerts arrived back-to-back from Eastwatch-by-the-Sea and the Gorge. The final battle, which the Gift had been bracing for over a year, broke out less than five hours after Daenerys’s departure. Factoring in travel and preparation time, it was almost certain: the enemy had begun their assault the moment the queen took flight.
The Gift Defense Protocols were immediately activated. Industry halted, workshops were evacuated, and key personnel on the evacuation list were moved into the inner keep. Ordinary Gift citizens, including the giants, dragged their belongings and streamed through the gates, all efficiently directed by the Watch.
There were no plans for an open-field battle. Once the evacuation was complete and the gates slammed shut, every man and woman capable of wielding a weapon was armed with dragonglass. All that remained was an agonizing wait—praying that the forces at the Wall would hold the enemy at bay or that Crown Town’s walls were high and strong enough.
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For the leadership, waiting idly was not an option. They had to monitor the unfolding battle, assess reports, and make decisions. Though the war had begun, the Night King had not severed the enemy’s communication lines—perhaps he could not, or perhaps he didn’t deem it necessary. Ravens flooded the commander’s table with reports from the front, and the command room bustled with activity.
The situation at Eastwatch was largely as expected. The freezing of Seal Bay was a known risk in the defense plan, and aside from the massive ice storm—akin to a sneeze from the gods—catching everyone off guard, events proceeded as anticipated.
The Gorge, however, particularly the direction of Icebay, presented an unforeseen complication.
“Iceport was raided by the Iron Fleet. Due to initial missteps in command, the attackers breached the port and entered the fortress. Casualties exceeded two hundred, and significant infrastructure and supplies were lost. The Northern Fleet lost one warship, another was heavily damaged, and only the Direwolf remained unscathed.”
“What? The Iron Fleet? Why would they attack Iceport at the exact same time as the White Walkers?”
“They say Euron is mad. Could it be he struck a deal with the Night King? Destroy the Night’s Watch and humanity, then rule over the survivors?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. If the Night King could negotiate, wouldn’t it be simpler to strike a deal with our commander here rather than trek all the way to some petty pirate on a barren island?”
The room erupted into a flurry of heated debates, but Aegor remained silent, carefully rereading the post-battle report from Iceport.
The Ironborn had been enemies of the North for years. Discovering and attacking a hidden Northern naval base in Icebay was entirely logical. Yet to launch their raid on the very day—and nearly the exact time—that the Night King began his final assault? A coincidence? Hardly.
Aegor didn’t believe in coincidences.
In the past, he might have reluctantly chalked it up to bad luck. But now, knowing that gods truly existed in this world, he couldn’t ignore the possibility of divine machinations.
He recalled Melisandre mentioning that the Drowned God was a servant of the Frost God—a claim he had once dismissed as typical priestly propaganda to elevate one deity while denigrating others. Now, however, it seemed to hold some truth.
It was entirely possible that Euron was playing a role similar to Aegor himself: a pawn. Aegor, the piece of R’hllor; Euron, the piece of the Frost God.
The Ironborn likely had no conscious intent to aid their mortal enemies, nor did they likely believe in the existence of White Walkers or their undead army. Yet the Frost God would only need to plant a subtle whisper in Euron’s mind: “Tonight is the perfect time to strike.” With that, a force of living men became unwitting allies to the Night King, creating the ideal flank to destabilize the Gorge’s defenses.
The result was catastrophic. Iceport’s incapacitation prevented reinforcements and supplies from reaching the nearby frontlines. The western segment of the Gorge collapsed within half an hour of engagement, undermining the entire defensive line Aegor had painstakingly built.
But there was no use lamenting the reasons behind this “coincidence.” The priority now was to determine the enemy’s next moves and decide how the Night’s Watch should respond.
Aegor rapped his knuckles on the table, silencing the room. “Enough with this pointless speculation. Focus on the reports. Organize casualty data from the Gorge and update me on the enemy’s observed movements along the Wall!”
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Unlike the long-range ravens used for southern communications, the short-range ravens between Crown Town and the Wall’s outposts had been trained to fly tirelessly, day and night, on their own. This ensured a continuous flow of information, with updates arriving every hour or two.
As ravens came and went, Aegor found himself tethered to the command room all night, unable to inspect the outer walls as planned. While he endured the exhaustion, he couldn’t help but pity the overworked birds, tirelessly delivering crucial messages.
The Night King’s army successfully crossed the Gorge and captured Gorge Watch, yet no immediate assault on the Wall followed. This delay led some to fear the worst—that the undead might bypass the Watch entirely and march directly south, even as far as Winterfell. Fortunately, this dire scenario did not come to pass.
When the ravens sent to the Shadow Tower circled back without landing, the command room determined that the assault on the Shadow Tower had begun.
It was good news, in a way. It confirmed Bran Stark’s claim about the Wall’s magic being a barrier the undead couldn’t simply bypass. Aegor’s efforts to fortify the Gift hadn’t been in vain.
But the battle at the Shadow Tower ended far too quickly. Barely an hour after it began, the fortress—a cornerstone of the Wall’s western defenses—was in flames. Qhorin Halfhand reported in detail from Sentinel Stand, explaining how the Shadow Tower had fallen so swiftly.
This was humanity’s first complete account of a direct engagement between the Night King’s forces and the living. Its significance was immense. Aegor and his advisors pored over every detail, analyzing the White Walkers’ new tactics and abilities. As they worked, a soldier rushed in with unexpected news: Eastwatch had achieved a stunning victory.
“Interesting,” someone remarked. “The Shadow Tower’s defenses should’ve been at least as strong as Eastwatch’s. Why the drastic difference in outcome?”
“Perfect,” another chimed in. “With one loss and one victory, we can analyze and compare to extract valuable insights for future battles.”
The idea resonated with Aegor. He ordered the room to prioritize dissecting the two reports to glean actionable intelligence.
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The analysis began with enemy forces. At Eastwatch, the undead army numbered between ten and twenty thousand, led by two White Walkers. In contrast, the Gorge saw the main force of over fifty thousand, according to Qhorin’s estimate. Despite the Night’s Watch’s bolstered numbers from the Free Folk, the enemy’s overwhelming size was chilling.
The White Walkers’ tactics had also evolved. The wights exhibited coordinated maneuvers, including feints, targeted assaults, and strategic advances toward key objectives. Moreover, the White Walkers demonstrated new abilities: extinguishing wildfire and resisting dragonglass weapons.
While these changes disrupted the defense protocols, they weren’t entirely surprising. The White Walkers’ intelligence had long been acknowledged. Their countermeasures to known weapons, like dragonglass and wildfire, were a logical evolution.
The discussion then turned to Eastwatch’s victory. The reports reconstructed the battle: the role of the Red Priest Makiro and his precise targeting of the White Walkers had been decisive.
Aegor realized his critical oversight. Having faced White Walkers himself, he had assumed everyone would recognize them on sight. But most soldiers had only heard vague descriptions or seen them from a distance. Without guidance from exceptional individuals like Makiro, Melisandre, or Bran, even the best-equipped soldiers couldn’t effectively target these magical beings.
There were only three such individuals in the entire Gift—and none at Castle Black, the heart of the Wall’s magic.
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Aegor issued rapid orders:
“Send word to all Wall outposts. Report these developments and instruct commanders to seal gates and update emergency protocols in case of wildfire failures.”
“Express our gratitude to Makiro for his contributions and request that he immediately travel to Castle Black to aid in its defense.”
“Yam, organize a team to dismantle non-essential buildings in the industrial district. Use the materials to fortify weak points in the walls.”
“Humphrey, work with Master Mott and Melisandre to reforge some Valyrian steel arrowheads into shrapnel for two specialized grenades—specifically designed to target the Night King.”
Finally, Aegor turned to the rest of the room. “Continue processing the reports and draft a new defense plan. Title it: ‘Emergency Protocols for Retaking the Walls in Case of Wildfire Failure and Breached Defenses in Crown Town.’ I’ll review it when I return. For now, I’m going to see Bran Stark. It’s time we pushed the limits of what he can do for us.”
