Chương 40: Always Winter #40
Tyrion's voice cracked with urgency as he cried out, "There's more people coming!" His plea was met with a wall of noise from the ongoing battle, drowning his words in the chaos. Panic clenched at his chest as he watched Ser Barristan and the other soldiers engaged in combat, oblivious to his warning.
Gritting his teeth and fighting back the fear that clawed at him, Tyrion quickly scanned the area for an alternative course of action. Rushing to Ser Barristan's side was out of the question; the intruders would spot and kill him within seconds.
His gaze landed on one of the archers positioned atop a tower, and a spark of an idea ignited in Tyrion's mind. He steeled himself and took a deep breath, preparing to take action.
Tyrion sprinted toward the tower, his legs carrying him as fast as his determination propelled him. However, just as he was about to reach the tower's base, a lurking figure emerged from the shadows, evidently searching for a way inside.
Tyrion cursed under his breath. His path was obstructed, but he couldn't afford to hesitate. As he approached the intruder, he relied on his agility and cunning, both of which had been honed through years of surviving in a world that often underestimated him.
The Lannister's steps remained light and silent as he closed in on the unsuspecting attacker. He knew he lacked the height or strength to deal a fatal blow, so he focused on the man's vulnerability. With a swift, calculated motion, Tyrion swung his small axe at the back of the intruder's knees, targeting a sensitive joint.
The axe struck its mark with a meaty thud, and the attacker cried out in pain, crumpling to the ground.
Without a moment's hesitation, Tyrion delivered several blows to the attacker's head with his small axe, ensuring that the intruder would pose no further threat. He didn't pause to check whether the man was dead or unconscious; instead, he swiftly continued his mission by ascending the tower.
Climbing the spiraling stairs to the top, he reached the two archers stationed there. They were alert and armed, and upon seeing Tyrion's unexpected presence, they tensed, ready to defend their post.
"Lord Tyrion? What are you doing here?" one of the archers asked, immediately resuming his steady stream of arrows, not bothering to wait for an answer.
With urgency in his voice, Tyrion wasted no time with explanations. "There's no time to explain! I found someone trying to get into this tower," he hurriedly relayed. "Light up the bases of the other towers and take out anyone trying to infiltrate!" he added, his words spoken in rapid succession.
The archer's eyes widened as he comprehended the gravity of the situation, but he promptly obeyed Tyrion's orders. Dipping his arrow into the nearby torch, he sent a flaming missile toward the base of the nearest tower, and then another, and a third. T
he flames illuminated the area, exposing the stealthy figures of several intruders attempting to infiltrate the towers. The archers took aim and swiftly dispatched the would-be infiltrators.
Tyrion watched with a grim determination, knowing that the threat had not yet passed. "There's more people coming from the Northeast. Ring the alarm and light up the area!" he instructed.
The archer promptly followed his directives, ensuring that the defenders remained alert and prepared to face the impending danger.
...
Reaching a slightly elevated hill that overlooked the frozen wasteland stretching before them, Gale and his companions came to a halt. The stranger joined them, and as the group surveyed the desolate landscape, the stranger began to speak.
"The Night King still resides within the depths of the lands of Always Winter," he remarked, gesturing towards the barren expanse. "However, he's been sending white walkers to scout the lands south of here for some time now. They always pass through this area," he added.
Gale, his mind working through the information, responded thoughtfully, rubbing his chin as he considered their options. "So, if we wait here long enough, we're bound to find a White Walker or two," he concluded.
The stranger, with an amused tone in his voice, chimed in, "More or less, but with the freezing wind coming from the north, you're more likely to freeze to death before that happens."
Gale surveyed his companions and could feel their collective discomfort due to the harsh, freezing conditions. Tormund was the first to voice his concerns. "It doesn't look like we'll be able to start a fire either..." he grumbled, giving the stranger a suspicious look. "I still think we should just kill this thing and get on with our lives," he added, clearly distrusting the undead creature.
Gale, growing weary of Tormund's hostility towards the stranger, responded, rolling his eyes. "What reason do we have for killing this guy, and for what purpose?" he asked, dismissively waving his hand. "Whatever it is, it's clearly not a White Walker or a Wight. Its eyes aren't blue, and it's speaking in the common tongue," he added.
The stranger chimed in, a hint of annoyance in his voice. "I appreciate your ability to distinguish the difference, but I'd appreciate it even more if you stopped calling me 'it,'" the stranger calmly said, to which Gale simply shrugged.
Gale stubbornly stood his ground. "You look like an 'it,' so I'll continue to address you as such," he retorted, giving the stranger a dismissive look.
"As for the fire..." Gale continued, his gaze turning towards the snowy landscape. An idea began to form in his mind. "Let me try something," he said, stomping the snow and concentrating his powers.
After a brief moment, he kneeled and began digging into the snow, eventually retrieving a compressed snow block.
He held it up for his companions to see. "You think we can use this to build a shelter – something to ward off the wind and make a fire?" Gale asked, alternating his gaze between them.
...
Ser Barristan, having dispatched the last of the attackers with his blade, was ready to sheath his sword and take a moment to breathe. However, the urgent peal of alarm bells pierced the air, and he immediately halted his actions. His gaze shot upwards, finding Tyrion standing alongside the archers atop the tower.
Tyrion pointed urgently to the Northeast, where another force of armed men was approaching, his voice carrying down to Ser Barristan.
"There's too many to face head-on. You see that arch behind you?!" Tyrion's voice was laced with urgency, and Ser Barristan quickly turned, spotting the arch he mentioned.
"It will serve as an excellent choke point! I can see it from here!" Tyrion continued a hint of determination in his voice. "Take your men there and wait for the attackers!" Tyrion's instructions were clear, and Ser Barristan nodded in agreement.
"Right, to the arch! Form up!" Ser Barristan shouted, rallying his men with swift, authoritative commands. They immediately began moving to the arch, taking up positions to prepare for the oncoming attackers.
Tyrion nodded in satisfaction at Ser Barristan's swift response. It was a rare occurrence for someone to heed his advice without questioning his competence due to his dwarfism. While the validation was gratifying, there was no time to revel in it.
He turned to the archers at his side, who were in the process of preparing their bows.
"With this horde of attackers, and there appear to be at least fifty of them, you can expect more to make attempts on our towers," Tyrion warned the archers. "I trust you two to pick off anyone who even so much as glances at the towers. Leave the task of safeguarding Ser Barristan and the troops below to the other archers," he instructed.
The two archers exchanged a quick, knowing look, their expressions filled with determination as the enemy forces drew closer. They then redirected their attention toward the approaching threat, nodding in agreement.
"Good lads. Do as I say, and I'll make sure you enjoy the finest brothels within Winterfell once we emerge from this ordeal," Tyrion added with his trademark wit, motivating the archers to stand resolute.
...
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