Chapter 359

The Night’s Watch rangers who witnessed the shocking sight of the “sea of wights felling weirwood trees” scrambled back to the Shadow Tower in a panic. Upon hearing their report, Dennis Mallister immediately ordered the Bridge of Skulls sealed once again.

Thus, the patrols beyond the northern side of the Gorge, which had begun hastily, were just as quickly terminated. This made it the shortest-lived directive issued during Aegor’s tenure: executed only once, lasting less than half a day, yet yielding the most swift and decisive feedback imaginable.

Mallister’s decision to override the Lord Commander’s orders was technically insubordination, but the right call was the right call. Aegor had no doubt about the credibility of a report led by a veteran like Colin Halfhand. The patrol’s purpose had always been to take small risks to gain early warning and preparation for the final battle—not to deliver fresh troops to the Night King. Knowing now that time was up, stopping the patrols was the only logical course of action.

The Gift had been preparing for this battle under Aegor’s command for some time, but how close were they to truly being ready? When the army of the dead surged across the Gorge, would the Night’s Watch be able to hold the line?
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The grim report extinguished any lingering joy over the miraculous victory in the Bay of Seals. Though Aegor disliked excessive bureaucracy, the gravity of the situation left him no choice but to convene another meeting with the key department heads of the Gift for a final round of discussions.

His first question went to the logistics chief overseeing infrastructure. “What’s the progress on repairing the patrol routes along the Gorge?”

Humphrey, well-prepared, answered promptly. “The repairs are essentially complete. The paths can now safely accommodate two horses riding side by side. While the terrain’s natural restrictions—being on a mountainside—limit width and prevent major changes to elevation within a short time, the roads are as smooth and accessible as the top of the Wall.”

“Good,” Aegor said, nodding. “Increase the stockpiles of wildfire and dragonglass weapons at Shadow Tower, Icecanyon Port, and all intermediary outposts. I want more beacons and temporary supply caches along the route. The goal is simple: Rangers patrolling lightly should be able to signal any sighting of the wight army immediately and retrieve wildfire or dragonglass from nearby supplies to mount an initial defense. Reinforcements should depart with minimal equipment, arrive quickly, and also rely on nearby stockpiles to stabilize the front before additional weapons are transported.”

“That’s the ideal scenario,” Warner Buckwell interjected skeptically, “but it exceeds the capabilities of the mountain clans and new Gift militias. If everyone were as trained as the Night’s Watch or the Crown's Rest Guards, it’d work, but those standards take time, money, and daily drills. You can’t rush it.”
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That was a hard truth.

Since Jeor Mormont’s tenure as Lord Commander, the Night’s Watch had adhered to a strict regimen, resulting in one of the most disciplined and well-trained forces in Westeros despite varying combat effectiveness. Meanwhile, the Crown's Rest Guards—Aegor’s handpicked soldiers—were well-bred, rigorously trained for over six months, and carefully selected before taking up their duties in the North.

These qualities, however, were sorely lacking in the militias formed from mountain clans and wildlings in the Gift. Worse, there was no quick fix for this disparity.

“Raise your concerns now,” Aegor said gravely. “This might be our last chance to debate before the battle. Once you leave this room, we execute the plan without deviation.”

“In that case, I’ll speak,” said Warner Buckwell, a nobleman from the Crownlands. Unlike Aegor’s other civilian appointees, who were careful and deferential, Buckwell was blunt. “The dead feel no fear. The natural defenses of the Gorge mean nothing to them. Splitting our forces to defend such a long front with only a few thousand troops is futile. Instead of stretching ourselves thin, we should abandon the line, consolidate at the fortresses, and hold out there.”

“Absolutely not!” Jon Snow, who had traveled from Castle Black, objected immediately. “Ser Warner has never fought the dead and is still thinking in terms of battles between the living. The Night’s Watch’s duty is to stop the threat beyond the Wall. If we don’t even try to hold the line, what is the point of our black cloaks? Besides, the dead don’t rely on supply lines. If we abandon the Gorge, they could bypass our fortresses entirely and sweep into the North, leaving its people defenseless.”

The debate escalated quickly, reflecting the differing priorities of Aegor’s leadership. His team consisted of three main factions: the traditional Night’s Watch veterans like Jon and his friends, the civilian administrators Aegor had trained, and the noble exiles sent to the Wall after supporting Renly Baratheon. Each group brought unique perspectives—and agendas.

Aegor raised a hand, silencing the room. “Jon is partially correct. The Wall does hold strategic value to the White Walkers. Specifically, the giant weirwood beneath Castle Black is critical. Destroying it would unravel the magic that shields the Wall from the Cold God’s power. While we can confirm the Gorge will be the main axis of attack, concentrating all our forces there is a mistake. If we leave other areas like Eastwatch underdefended, the enemy will exploit it.”

He paused, letting the weight of his words settle. “Defending the Gorge isn’t just about duty. If we abandon it, the enemy could infiltrate the Gift and slaughter us in our sleep. But by holding the line, the terrain will allow us to inflict significant losses on the wight army, weakening them for future engagements. Most importantly, fighting at the Gorge gives the people of the Gift and the North time to retreat to fortified positions. This is non-negotiable.”
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Buckwell raised his hands in mock surrender. “As you wish, Commander. But the militias remain poorly trained. I suggest immediate drills along the Gorge to improve their readiness—every bit of preparation counts.”

“Approved. Begin today, round-the-clock.”
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The meeting concluded with an exhaustive list of tasks: relocating eastern tribes to Eastwatch, abandoning weaker fortresses along the Wall, evacuating giants to Crown's Rest, and even exaggerating reports of the wight army’s movements to warn the Seven Kingdoms prematurely. The defensive line was to be finalized, come what may.

As his officers dispersed to execute their orders, Aegor stepped outside for fresh air. The long marathon of preparing for the Night King’s invasion was nearing its end. Now, it was a race to ensure that he and his people weren’t the prize.

Heading back to his quarters, he noticed Melisandre waiting by the door. He approached, unsure of what she wanted.

Before he could speak, the Red Priestess shook her head gently. “There are matters we must discuss, but now is not the time. You should prepare yourself instead—for Lady Stark’s arrival.”