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Meanwhile, Qhorin was leading a team and they were watching a large group of wilding men marching towards the Frostfangs closer to their own castle, the Shadow Tower.

"What in the world of shit snow are these wildings doing?" Qhorin spoke to himself while moving his band of scouts towards their own castle and sending one rider back to Castle Black.

<<><><> In the Frozen Shores...<><>><><>

Five weeks ago, in Bear Island...

"M'Lady, a ranger came from the outpost," Tory rushed into the governing council room, interrupting a meeting between Lady Maege and the other elders. The urgency of the news warranted the interruption, considering the importance of the outpost on the icy grounds of the Frozen Shore.

The outpost held significance for Bear Island, serving as both a breeding ground for valuable animals like snow dogs, reindeer, snow bears, ice foxes, seals, and walrus, and as a strategic military point to monitor wildling movements.

Since the construction of the bridge to the northern lands began, they had been stockpiling and creating supplies for trade. They couldn't afford to lose these precious animals or tolerate any wildling attacks.

"What's the message?" Lady Maege asked calmly, aware of the gravity of the situation.

"They have spotted an army of wildlings coming towards the outpost. Their numbers could be beyond four to five hundred," Tory replied promptly, concern evident in his voice.

"Call the Great Walrus and send a message to Ser Stephon. I need the men ready for war," Lady Maege ordered, her sense of responsibility clear.

"They must be after our livestock. Those wildlings can't raise a single animal, but they can rob us of the whole lot," Ser Gibbs, the Master of Trade, spoke angrily, slamming his hand on the table.

Ser Gibbs, a well-known merchant on Bear Island, had earned his place on the governing council through his knowledge of the trade, ability to handle finances, and unwavering loyalty to House Mormont. Despite his anger, he knew the dire situation demanded careful management of the island's resources.

Lady Maege made her decision, leaving the room with purpose. "Master Gibbs and Master Rodrick, you two will keep the island running peacefully and keep a close watch on the finances.

Our merchant ships should be returning soon. I will leave Ser Stephon here on the island to maintain security. As the Master-of-Arms, his command over the new recruits is beyond doubt, and in case of any surprises, he will defend our island easily."

"And where are you going, M'Lady?" Master Rodrick couldn't help but ask.

"To war!" Lady Maege's loud thunderous voice echoed from afar, followed by laughter from the men inside the chamber.

"I thought Lady Maege would leave the matters of war to someone else!" Master Rodrick, the middle-aged Master-of-Coins, teased.

Master Rodrick, who grew up with Lord Jeor Mormont, had served as a fine warrior due to his strict discipline, loyalty, and honest personality.

His appointment as Master-of-Coins in Bear Island demonstrated the trust placed in him, and Jorah had convinced him to stay after his father's departure.

"She is a she-bear and can fight better than most men on the island. I just hope our losses would be smaller or negligible," Master Gibbs spoke with hope in his heart, silently praying for the safety of his people.

The conversation shifted to concerns about the limited number of soldiers available. With Lord Mormont away with a hundred soldiers and fifty more sent with sailors for trade, only fifty trained soldiers remained on the island, with over a hundred still in training.

"We can't overlook our new men. They bring us more than 300 trained soldiers who are familiar with these lands and terrain. It will be a significant advantage," Master Gibbs added with a smile, seeking to lift the heavy atmosphere.

"Yes, you're right. We are fortunate they're on our side now. Thank the Old Gods for that," Master Rodrick acknowledged, breathing a sigh of relief.

The sheer size of the approaching five-hundred-strong wilding army weighed heavily on Master Rodrick's mind. If those three hundred wildings had joined the coming army, Bear Island would have had no other choice but to simply abandon those lands.

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<><><> In the Frozen Shores...<><>

"They are coming for us, aren't they?" a scout asked his companion.

"Aye," the other scout replied, his voice tinged with concern.

"I... I don't think we can win," the first scout admitted, his fear palpable.

"We are not supposed to. We just need to hold on until our army arrives!" the second scout declared, trying to boost his comrade's spirits.

The two scouts had been tracking the approaching wildling army, and their brief conversation now spurred them into action. They hurried back to their tower, a mile ahead of the previous Walrus clan.

The tower, constructed in the likeness of the Wall, was a barrier made of stones, ice, and wood arranged in a semi-circle, providing cover. A tall tower stood behind the wall, offering a vantage point to spot any incoming threats.

Jorah had once suggested using this location to train the new recruits in preparation for the harsh climate, but Ser Stephon disagreed, opting to train them in more temperate conditions to avoid injuries from the cold.

"What's happening out there?" Gobin, the leader of the small squad stationed at the tower, inquired.

"The scouts have confirmed the movements of the wildling army. They'll be here by tomorrow morning if they march non-stop," another soldier reported.

"No, they won't do that. They'll stop to conserve their strength, make a lot of noise to scare us, and then attack when we're cowering behind the walls," Gobin predicted grimly.

The words hung heavily in the air, and the men exchanged worried glances.

"Do you think we'll cower behind the walls?" a tall and proud warrior spoke up, his voice defiant.

"No, we'll fight!" another warrior declared, igniting a fire of determination in the group.

"I'll cut down so many of them that they'll sing songs about me!" yet another warrior boasted, his confidence soaring.

The soldiers rallied around their shared resolve. Gobin felt his heart heavy with concern, but he could see the unwavering determination in his men's eyes. They knew the odds were against them, facing a five-hundred-strong wildling army, but they were ready to fight nonetheless.

"Good. It seems everyone is ready for war. Then I will assign the task, and the task is simple. Tomorrow, no one can die until they've taken a hundred wildling lives. Understood?" 

Gobin's voice was firm, and his squad of less than fifteen men responded with a resounding "Aye, Sir."

Tomorrow would be an epic battle, a war of fifteen soldiers of Bear Island against a formidable force of five hundred wildling warriors. The odds were stacked against them, but their determination burned brightly, ready to face whatever lay ahead on the Frozen Shores.