To avoid revealing any clues and alerting the sentinels, and to protect the demolition team's infiltration and approach, the main body of the Gift Army remained quietly in Winter Town after dark, not daring to make any premature moves. While this caution was prudent, it also created another problem. If the main assault force only began moving from the camp after the demolition team completed their mission, it would be difficult to reach the breach in time and quickly enter the castle through the blown-open gate.
To resolve this contradiction, Aegor's countermeasure was to inform the entire army in advance that the first explosion would be the signal for the general assault.
Although Winterfell's external defense system had two layers, inner and outer, and the second round of demolition was needed to break through completely, maximizing the advantage required the main force to act swiftly, seizing the opportunity presented between the first and second rounds of explosions.
Of course, while this method solved one problem, it created another. If the second round of demolition did not go smoothly or the results after the first explosion were less than ideal, the assault force would not have time to halt and would end up crashing headfirst into Winterfell's intact inner wall, which was even higher and thicker than the outer one.
There is no such thing as a perfect tactical plan in this world. Aegor would do everything possible to prevent such a situation. But if an accident still occurred, the Gift Army could only rely on other contingency measures, as well as their superior morale and organization, to storm the castle.
...
As the sound of the attack horn immediately followed the first explosion, countless lights suddenly flared up in Winter Town, which had remained dark and silent, as if in hibernation. The two assault forces, already fully prepared, lit their torches the moment they heard the signal. Under the command of officers at all levels, they filed out of the siege camp in an orderly manner. The long queues formed at the camp gates, viewed from a distance, looked like two glowing serpents winding through the snow, advancing purposefully toward Winterfell's east and north gates.
Murphy's Law failed to manifest in the face of ample, even excessive, preparation. Although the demolition team inevitably encountered some minor mishaps during the attack on the inner city gate, which slightly delayed the second round of explosions, the completely flustered castle defenders were unable to capitalize on the flaw or mount any resistance. Within a very short time after all four gates, inner and outer, on the east and north sides were blown open by saturation explosives, the large siege force had already reached the breaches before the defenders could respond.
Gift soldiers swarmed over the collapsed gatehouses, set up makeshift crossings over the frozen moat, and, relying on their overwhelming numbers, suppressed the recovering sentinels on both walls and began pouring into the castle. At the same time, the lord of the city was still on the far side of the castle, away from the frontlines, directing firefighting efforts near the training ground.
---
Facing the Night's Watch rebellion and a thousand-mile raid, Robb had been in a state of high tension for several days. Although good news had already come from Lord Bolton, confirming their victory, he still hadn't allowed himself to relax. As a young lord who rose to power early, Robb knew he had to be more cautious and diligent than other nobles in order to lead his house through this dangerous and chaotic world. With three parts vigilance, two parts luck, and five parts talent, he had emerged unscathed from the War of the Five Kings that swept across the Seven Kingdoms and returned to the North, gaining a string of victories and a wagon full of spoils.
The immense prestige and adoration from all sides had swelled his pride briefly, but his defeat at the hands of the Ironborn had made him realize the truth in time. His beloved companion and trusted direwolf, Grey Wind, had died, making Robb fully understand the meaning of his house's words: Winter Is Coming. That simple phrase of three words was not some literary invention of their ancestors, nor a weather forecast passed down by some cold-fearing fool. Its essence was a warning to future generations: always remain alert. No matter where or when, never believe yourself to be safe.
Learning from his setbacks and holding fast to his ancestors' teachings, Robb sobered up immediately upon hearing of the stable fire. Though he couldn't understand how rebels outside the walls could have set a fire inside the city, even if it was an accident, he couldn't rule out the possibility that Aegor might use the distraction to launch a night assault. To eliminate all possible threats, he decided to go to the training ground himself and oversee the firefighting efforts, in order to minimize the confusion and danger.
Robb left his warm bed, dressed neatly, kissed his still-sleepy wife's face, coaxed her back to sleep, then went out to summon his guards and headed downstairs.
"Is Rodrik awake? Tell him to take men to the kitchen and fetch water to put out the fire." As he descended the stairs, Robb was already giving out orders.
"Ser Rodrik has already gone."
"Very good." Robb nodded with satisfaction. The old knight was always loyal and dependable. "Find a few quick runners and send orders to all the walls. The sentinels are not to take part in firefighting. They are to remain alert and keep watch. Hmm... That's not enough. Send another to the Guard Room. Double the number of sentinels tonight. If there's any unusual movement from the rebels outside the city, do not hesitate, ring the bell and give warning immediately."
"Yes, my lord."
"After I go out, shut and bar the main castle gate. No one is to enter or leave until the fire is out and I return." This order was not just to prevent anyone from stirring up trouble in the chaos, but also to stop children like Arya or Rickon from sneaking out of curiosity and getting caught in danger.
After this string of miscellaneous orders, the group had reached the castle's main entrance. Just as they were about to step out, a small figure ran toward them. Even bundled in a thick coat, she still looked delicate. Fortunately, she stopped in time and didn't run straight into Robb.
"Lord Robb... g-good evening."
"It's not good at all." Robb frowned, staring at Myrcella. "It's so late. What are you doing outside, Maeve?"
The girl looked nervous under his stern tone and timidly explained, "The room was a bit stuffy. I fell asleep for a while, but after I woke up, I couldn't fall back asleep. I was afraid of disturbing Sansa and Arya, so I came out for some fresh air... It looks like there's a fire near the training ground."
"I already know. Sigh, at a time like this, can't you just..." Can't you just stay in your room and not wander around? The words were on the tip of Robb's tongue, but he suddenly realized that he couldn't scold this stepsister, who was not his blood, the same way he did Arya or Sansa. A single harsh word might leave a grudge in her heart.
Forget it. He would deal with this after the more important matters were handled. He waved his hand. "Hurry back to your room, close the door, and don't go running around."
"Okay, okay." Myrcella seemed as if she had been granted a pardon and quickly ducked past him, lowering her head as she ran back into the castle.
Robb could never have guessed what role the girl who had just brushed past him would play tonight. He quickly forgot the small interruption and hurried with his men toward the stable.
Even before they reached it, Robb realized the situation was far worse than he had imagined. Not only did the firelight light up half the city wall, but several warhorses that should have been in the stable were now galloping past like wind, followed by a chaotic stream of townsfolk running in panic. Even Robb's shouts and commands as lord of the city couldn't slow them down. Judging by their direction, some were even fleeing toward the main castle.
Fortunately, he had ordered the castle gate to be tightly shut.
Robb felt a brief sense of relief, but his unease only grew stronger. The stables were made of wood, yes, but they shouldn't have gone up in flames this quickly. What was truly going on?
Sensing something was wrong, he turned and gave another command. "Go to the guest quarters and wake Lord Cervin. Tell him to send a hundred men to control the intersections and stop the rioters, and to lead another two hundred to help extinguish the fire. Wait... Wake all the remaining soldiers. Tell them to fully arm themselves and divide into four groups to guard the city's four gates. Just in case anything else happens."
"Including those who were off duty during the first half of the night?"
"Including the first shift."
Another runner went off toward the armory to deliver the message. With this series of clear and urgent orders from the lord of the city, the panicked night sentinels were brought under control. The central garrison within the city began to move. The soldiers tasked with firefighting were the first to reach the training ground. Those responsible for maintaining order began intercepting and gathering the rioters. The rest armed themselves quickly and headed for the four main gates.
Now, whether it was the rioters inside the city or the rebels outside, no one would be able to take advantage of the fire to threaten Winterfell, Robb thought, and he finally felt a little more at ease.
That was the exact moment the explosion rang out.
(To be continued.)
Junkdog's Note: It's been a while since I dropped a new fanfiction. I'm thinking of dropping one soon, so if you have any you'd like me to check out, or maybe one that got abandoned, do tell me in the comments.