In the cold wind, Winterfell ended another day under siege by the rebels.
The snowfall that had lasted for several days had stopped, but the snow piled on the ground and the clouds lingering in the sky did not disappear immediately. These conditions dampened sound and blocked the light of the stars and moon, making the world after sunset utterly silent, the night as dark as ink. However, despite the impaired visibility and muted surroundings, the guards on the city walls were not overly concerned.
Standing atop Winterfell's outer wall, nearly a hundred feet high, the sentries' vigilance toward the outside did not depend on sound. As for the absence of moonlight, that was not a significant issue either. The rebels from the Gift were formerly of the Night's Watch, and their clothing was almost uniformly black, while the snow-covered fields around the castle provided a stark contrast. Even though the light filtering through the clouds was too dim to see one's own hand, it was still enough to illuminate the snow. Against such a background, any movement by the besiegers would appear like ink dropped on white parchment, impossible to ignore.
...
"That bastard Aegor probably doesn't even realize disaster is about to fall on him. He's probably fast asleep with some wildling woman in his arms right now." Joel flexed his nearly frozen right hand and started chatting with his half-asleep companion, just to pass the time. "I heard Gaflen, who went out with the 'negotiation team,' say that to avoid raising Aegor's suspicions, Ser Rodrik not only spent more time today discussing the agreement but even made a few small concessions on key points. That rebel leader really thought he'd scored a good deal and was so pleased he wanted to keep them there for drinks!"
"My friend who's been to the Gift told me that the one Aegor is messing around with is a red priestess from Asshai, not some wildling woman," Yageo grumbled sleepily, annoyed at being disturbed. "And don't talk to me. Just do your job. Until Lord Bolton's army arrives, the threat still isn't over."
"Right, right, the threat isn't over." Talking distracts people, but you're the one sleeping? This guy's such a hypocrite. Joel rolled his eyes but didn't expose him. He just kept chatting. "Oh, by the way, how's it going with your future father-in-law? When can you finally marry Lisa and bring her home? Now that I think about it, I haven't seen that father and daughter around the castle these past few days."
"They were evacuated to Seven City." Yageo, now fully awake, gave up on trying to nap. "That old man, relying on his daughter being the prettiest girl in Snowdrift Village, acts like his eyes are growing on his forehead. He's still trying to find someone better, even while talking marriage with me. He keeps finding faults with me, like being a guard in Winterfell isn't good enough for his daughter. Hmph, if we'd gotten married earlier, she could've taken refuge in Winterfell as my family. Why should she have to walk dozens of miles through the snow to flee to Seven City?"
"I told you before, that old man isn't dissatisfied with your conditions. He's just waiting for you to show a proper attitude, to treat him with respect as your father-in-law. If you had listened when others told you how to win over a girl's father, would this have gotten so complicated?"
"I'm marrying his daughter, not him! Why should I humble myself to please someone who looks down on me? This time, I'll make sure he understands not everyone is afraid of him or willing to grovel!"
"Alright, alright. If you want things to be difficult, let them be difficult." Joel pretended to comfort him, but inwardly shook his head and laughed. What a rookie. Destined to stay single. "Stay strong. Once this battle is over, with the rewards and merit you earn from defending Winterfell, they'll be the ones begging you."
"Hmph." Yageo didn't catch the sarcasm and simply pursed his lips. "She'd better not be fooling around with someone else while hiding in Seven City, or else..."
...
The unmarried guard didn't finish his sentence. Not because he hadn't figured out what should follow "or else," but because something unexpected had suddenly caught his attention. Everything outside the walls remained quiet, but in a completely unexpected direction—somewhere inside the darkened castle behind them—a sudden burst of eerie green flames lit up the night. The liquid fuel, once lit by a match, quickly ignited dry straw and wood. The flames spread rapidly. As the burning intensified and the fuel changed, the color of the fire shifted from a cold green to a blazing yellow-orange, rising three or four meters high in a matter of breaths.
Along with the flames came screaming that pierced the silent night.
"Help! Fire!"
It really was a fire, which was rare in Winterfell, where most of the buildings were made of stone. But the blaze had broken out in the stables, one of the few wooden structures inside the castle. However, strange as it was, the guards who were familiar with the layout of the castle didn't panic. As regular residents, they knew that the stables were located in the southwest corner of the training yard, right next to the granite inner wall. There were no other wooden structures nearby, and it was far from any buildings storing winter supplies or inhabited quarters. Even if the fire got out of control, at most it would only burn down the stables and wouldn't cause any larger disaster.
Yes, it wouldn't cause a larger disaster. That conclusion is usually correct, but unfortunately, this wasn't a usual situation.
Unlike normal times, Winterfell was now crammed with three or four thousand people. The nearby villagers who had taken refuge in the castle had pitched tents and laid down blankets, filling nearly every usable space inside and outside the buildings. Naturally, they hadn't ignored the training yard, the largest open area. The steward who organized the camp layout had left a buffer zone between the stables and the tents, so this accident should not have caused a fire to spread into the camp. But clearly, the planners had not accounted for one thing—there were also "residents" in the stables.
As the fire grew, burning through the walls and spreading deeper into the stable, the rising heat and light panicked the horses trapped inside. Driven by instinct, the strong warhorses began to riot. Some jumped over the fences and broke through the gates, charging out of the fire. Within moments, the training yard descended into chaos as a stampede of terrified horses burst through the tents. No one died in the fire itself, but the animals trampled tents and knocked down refugees who had only just woken and were too dazed to react.
Shouts and cries echoed through the yard, followed by the cracking of a burning beam collapsing from the stable. The quiet of the night was utterly shattered. And this was only the beginning of the chain reaction.
The physical damage caused by the rampaging horses was limited. What was truly terrifying was the panic and fear that followed. Many people who had been asleep were startled by the screams and noise. Half-awake and confused, they wanted to ask what was happening, but no one gave an answer. Their thoughts raced, and they chose the safest option they could imagine—flee.
No matter what was going on, staying away from danger always seemed right.
This instinct made sense in theory, but it ignored one thing. The chaos caused by herd panic often outweighs the danger of the incident itself.
One person ran. Then two. Then ten. Then twenty. And then the number surged into the hundreds. A small fire that was not serious on its own, ignited in the worst place and at the worst time, snowballed into a tidal wave of terror. In the midst of that wave, children lost their mothers, husbands were separated from wives, and the guards rushing in with buckets to put out the fire were scattered by the incoming flood of fleeing people.
People were needed to corral the horses. Others were needed to rescue the injured. More guards had to be reassigned to maintain order and clear paths for the firefighting teams. What should have been a minor accident, manageable by ten men, had spiraled through a chain of unforeseen developments into chaos that even a hundred couldn't contain.
...
"Holy hell. It's just a stable on fire, how did it turn into all this?" The entire sequence had played out in front of the sentries on the wall. Joel was stunned, then snapped to alertness. "Yageo, did you hear anything just now? Could it have been incendiary bombs catapulted in by the rebels? Are they trying to attack during the chaos?"
"Impossible. Winterfell's inner wall is a hundred feet high. If incendiaries had been launched from outside, they would have landed closer to the castle's center. How could they have hit the stable, which is right next to the wall and sheltered by it?" Yageo didn't know much about social matters, but his spatial judgment was sharp. "I think some fool must have knocked over an oil lamp while feeding the horses at night. Anyway, forget where the fire came from. What I want to know is, do we night guards need to go help?"
"Probably not. If we leave our posts to fight the fire, what if the rebels seize the moment to scale the walls..."
This brief debate ended quickly, as the officer on duty and messengers from the keep appeared on the wall to answer the guards' questions.
"Don't stand there gawking like you've never seen a fire before! Stay at your posts. No more watching, no more gossiping, and absolutely no one is to leave without orders!"
"Lord Robb has ordered that the sentries on all walls are not to join in firefighting. Increase your vigilance and maintain your watch. Other personnel have already been dispatched to handle the fire."
Two loud orders and several firm commands immediately settled the guards' doubts. The chaos caused by the burning stable was serious, but it wouldn't change the fact that granite could not burn. As for the fleeing townsfolk, they were loyal subjects of House Stark, with no spies or infiltrators among them. Once the wood was fully consumed and the exhausted people calmed down, the stampede would end.
Compared to a single stable, the greater priority was maintaining the integrity and stability of Winterfell's overall defense, ensuring the rebels outside could not exploit any gap.
It was a cautious and reasonable decision. Robb's judgment and command skills were clear. Unfortunately, sometimes, even the right choices cannot change the outcome.
Shortly after the sentries on the inner and outer walls, following their officers' instructions, turned their attention away from the burning stable and returned to their routine guard duties, a series of flashes lit the night. Then came a thunderous roar beneath their feet and in their ears.
(To be continued.)