129 The Siege of Torrhen's Square

"From what our reports indicate," Jon began, leaning over the table in the room as his commanders gathered around him. "The three hundred men scattered across the keeps in further north, have all been abandoned."

He indicated to those south of the Northern Mountains and west of the Last Hearth. All had been occupied by the Ironborn but were now unoccupied. The Ironborn force that had numbered a thousand, divided amongst them had dwindled rapidly. Hundreds had gone into the Wolfswood in order to gain food to avoid starvation. But besides the odd few, all had ended in failure and the deaths of many.

Now with Victarion moving further south, no doubt intending to flee back to the Iron Islands, the other Ironborn were also cutting their losses.

"Their intentions are to get to the ships docked upon the Stony Shore." Here, Jon looked to Alysanne Mormont. "You will take five hundred men and ambush them, ensure not a single Ironborn makes it out of the Wolfswood."

The Castellan of House Mormont clenched her fists eagerly as her gnarled features twisted into a truly vicious smile. "Of course."

Jon then turned to the Castellans and Lords of those now abandoned keeps. "Remember, your duty is to take a few dozen men, tear down the defences of your keeps and retreat south. We must ensure that Stannis cannot expand his defensive border any further." Though, with the number of men Stannis had and the number that Robb had, taking them would be easy enough. There wasn't a huge amount of food left in the North and so starving them out wouldn't take long.

However, it would still take time to do so, time that Stannis could use to better prepare himself for the Wall. Not only that, but if they did move their forces to besiege those keeps, the men defending them would no long before Robb's army arrived and would abandon them. Moving back further north and reinforcing the other keeps.

In the process, slowing Robb's march.

Jon could not allow that to happen.

So, he intended to ensure that taking those keeps was paramount to suicide and allowed small forces of a few thousand to take them, even with defenders inside. What made sieges so dangerous was not the forces stationed inside, but the defences of the keep. It gave them the advantage and allowed a few thousand to defend against a force five times its size.

Without those defences, that advantage would be lost.

Each of the Castellans and Lords knew this, nodding their heads firmly in agreement.

Jon nodded back in turn, silently thanking them for the sacrifice they would be making. "Finally, I will be marching to take Torrhen's Hall with the main force. We know that Victarion Greyjoy has just shy of three thousand men at Goldgrass and Barrowtown, with some of the Iron Fleet there also. This leaves a force of a few hundred men at Torrhen's Square, exact numbers are unknown, but we do know that they will be cutting their losses soon, they'll be travelling down the river to the Saltspear soon. It is our goal to make sure that they can't escape."

Everyone around the room murmured, Jon looking at each of them before standing upright. "Let's bring an end to this war and show our King that despite our early failings, are by no means beyond our ability to fix."

-X- Line Break -X-

Night was beginning to descend upon them, the camp lively as they looked upon the walled city before them. Movement was still present upon it, Ironborn still patrolling the walls, ready to defend should their force attack in the midst of the night.

Gerrick Kingsblood came up beside her, Val not sparing him a glance as she focused purely on the wall. "Why are we not attacking?" He questioned, frustrated that they were not attacking despite possessing the numerical advantage.

"Because we have our orders," Val replied simply, frustrated with the self-proclaimed descendent of the King-Beyond-The-Wall, Raymond Redbeard. That shared history had made Gerrick an arrogant, pretentious man with little to offer in turn. Why Mance had allowed him to come south of the Wall, Val will never understand. He was cause for more problems than solutions, often getting into fights with the warriors of the North.

"Fools orders."

"Lord Stark's orders."

"Aye, but he couldn't do anything without our help." Gerrick retorted. "Had to rely upon us Free Folk to solve the problems he caused."

"He didn't cause them, the Bolton's and the Ironborn did. He has simply been trying to solve them with what little he has. Don't forget how vast the lands of the North are, it makes moving slow without ships, something the Ironborn possessed. If it wasn't for the Bolton and Dustin's betrayal, the North would have beaten back the Ironborn much sooner. However, their betrayal through the North into disarray."

"You defend him?"

Val turned to him, frustrated with his constant questioning. "I'm answering your stupid questions." Gerrick scowled, considering attacking her, but thought better of it. "Now, go and gather the men, we attack soon."

"W-what?" Gerrick stuttered in bewilderment. "Why?"

"Because throughout the course of the few days we've been camped outside these walls, the number of people on those walls have grown smaller and smaller," Val explained. "They're no doubt escaping on their ships and soon, we'll have scout reports that reflect that. Now, go and ready the men."

Dismissing him, Val then turned, once again surveying the walls, prepared for the battle to come.

-X- Line Break -X-

With a cry, Val thrust her spear up, the bladed edge piercing through the throat of an Ironborn that stood in her way. His blood spilt down, dripping onto her face as he spluttered and gagged. Then with a push, she shoved him off her spear, Val scrambling up the ladder with quick steps. There, she was greeted by the sight of the battle taking place upon the walls.

Val already jumping down, spear piercing into the chest of another Ironborn as more and more soldiers spilt onto the battlements behind her. Free Folk leapt down, side by side with the Northern Clansmen leapt down, axes and swords cutting into the Ironborn that stood in the way.

It was a rapid and violent push that saw the Ironborn falling over themselves and off the side, plummeting to their deaths in an attempt to escape the slaughter they were now a part of.

They had been prepared to defend the walls, actually costing them a number of good men as they scaled them. But they were too few in number to stop them all, and now that they were on the walls, the tired and hungry Ironborn were but lambs to the slaughter as the Free Folk and Clansmen slaughtered everything in their path.

Battle cries sounded out across the walls, joining with the death throes of the Ironborn in a haunting symphony of sound as Torrhen's Square was retaken in the space of an hour. All the while, what remained of the Ironborn in the city, fled onto the ships moored at the harbour and escaped as quickly as they could.