A Need to Suffer

Journey's End

Chapter Twenty-Five

Journey’s End

There was no keeping them out Jon knew as he stood solidly in the keep’s courtyard looking out through the broken remains of the once sturdy gate Wun-Wun had battered open; it was a boon then, but it was proving to be a detriment now. Jon had sent runners as he’d suited up in leathered armor, gauntlets, and cloak; his Valyrian steel sword, Longclaw, lay ready at his hip for another fight if the Umbers so wished it. Soldiers from the north and beyond the wall alike had been roused by the winding horn causing all that still milled about the grounds to start moving with purpose, suiting up, and readying their weapons for battle. Archers quickly made their way up the sides of the castle positioning themselves on the wall to prepare to shower a deadly wave of arrows at the entrance as the scouts Jon had sent out to meet Sansa barreled through the opening and headed straight over to where Jon stood.

The first man to reach him tugged violently on his horse’s reins sending the beast whinnying with a balk to stop inches from Jon. Once the horse was under control, the man barked out fearfully, “There’s too many to count, my lord! We tried to make it back to warn you, but one of their lookouts… they saw our fire by the roadside before we could snuff it out. I’m sorry!”

Jon’s eyes were wild as they scanned back to see how much further away the Umbers were before switching his attention back to the scout as he yelled, “And my sister… did they have her?”

The man merely looked confused momentarily before shrugging and shaking his head simultaneously, “I… I don’t know, my lord; I didn’t see her!”

Jon turned to stare at the second scout who had come to a halt beside his companion, but the man only shook his head no before Jon could ask the same of him. Having heard all the news the two men could grant him, Jon gave a small nod of dismissal, and the two men cleared out leaving an unobstructed view of the gateway’s opening as a line of riders bearing the Umber’s flag trotted up to the opening and halted to await their lords’ and lady’s arrival.

Jon’s heart thrummed in his ears as the shouting within the keep rose into a raucous clamor regarding the army’s approach. Many of his men were now suited with weapons drawn and standing at the ready beside Jon as they funneled protectively around him and into a guarded stance. If the Umbers held Sansa captive, Jon had no real answer for them. Half of his army lay dead or too wounded to fight, and the knights of the Vale had taken up residence for the winter in Moat Cailin much too far away to get any help from them. It was a terrible disadvantage, but there was nothing more to be done, so Jon clenched his jaw in worried anticipation as he rigidly awaited the Umbers’ arrival and the news they heralded.

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The horses panted audibly in strained snorts as the small group galloped at breakneck speeds to make ground and ascertain just what had become of Winterfell in their absence. Sansa’s heart was racing as fast as that of her horse; she worried about her home and the people that she was too far away from to know if they were okay. Surprisingly, Sansa discovered that her own group was not as far from the approaching forces as that which she’d assumed.

Tormund held up a hand to halt their progress much to the confusion of the others until he spoke, and they observed, “Do you hear that?” The party was silent save the horses heaving to catch their breath, and it was then that the sound of a procession of riders could be heard faintly trotting off into the distance. Having this news, the group cautiously rode forward until they physically spotted the cavalry and foot soldiers; it was an immediate relief to see that they were not marching back from Winterfell but towards it. There was still time to act; whether it was time enough to do something or merely be a bystander to carnage remained to be seen.