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"
To
strike
terror
into
the
heart
of
the
foe
,
as
only
one
of
your
name
could
do
.
You
’
ll
take
the
great
part
of
our
force
and
march
on
Torrhen
’
s
Square
.
Helman
Tallhart
took
his
best
men
south
,
and
Benfred
died
here
with
their
sons
.
His
uncle
Leobald
will
remain
,
with
some
small
garrison
.
"
If
I
had
been
able
to
question
Benfred
,
I
would
know
just
how
small
.
"
Make
no
secret
of
your
approach
.
Sing
all
the
brave
songs
you
like
.
I
want
them
to
close
their
gates
.
"
"
Is
this
Torrhen
’
s
Square
a
strong
keep
?
"
"
Strong
enough
.
The
walls
are
stone
,
thirty
feet
high
,
with
square
towers
at
each
corner
and
a
square
keep
within
.
"
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"
Stone
walls
cannot
be
fired
.
How
are
we
to
take
them
?
We
do
not
have
the
numbers
to
storm
even
a
small
castle
"
"
You
will
make
camp
outside
their
walls
and
set
to
building
catapults
and
siege
engines
.
"
"
That
is
not
the
Old
Way
.
Have
you
forgotten
?
Ironmen
fight
with
swords
and
axes
,
not
by
flinging
rocks
.
There
is
no
glory
in
starving
out
a
foeman
.
"
"
Leobald
will
not
know
that
.
When
he
sees
you
raising
siege
towers
,
his
old
woman
’
s
blood
will
run
cold
,
and
he
will
bleat
for
help
.
Stay
your
archers
,
Uncle
,
and
let
the
raven
fly
.
The
castellan
at
Winterfell
is
a
brave
man
,
but
age
has
stiffened
his
wits
as
well
as
his
limbs
.
When
he
learns
that
one
of
his
king
’
s
bannermen
is
under
attack
by
the
fearsome
Dagmer
Cleftjaw
,
he
will
summon
his
strength
and
ride
to
Tallhart
’
s
aid
.
It
is
his
duty
.
Ser
Rodrik
is
nothing
if
not
dutiful
.
"
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"
Any
force
he
summons
will
be
larger
than
mine
,
"
Dagmer
said
,
"
and
these
old
knights
are
more
cunning
than
you
think
,
or
they
would
never
have
lived
to
see
their
first
grey
hair
.
You
set
us
a
battle
we
cannot
hope
to
win
,
Theon
.
This
Torrhen
’
s
Square
will
never
fall
.
"
Theon
smiled
.
"
It
’
s
not
Torrhen
’
s
Square
I
mean
to
take
.
"
Confusion
and
clangor
ruled
the
castle
.
Men
stood
on
the
beds
of
wagons
loading
casks
of
wine
,
sacks
of
flour
,
and
bundles
of
new
-
fletched
arrows
.
Smiths
straightened
swords
,
knocked
dents
from
breastplates
,
and
shoed
destriers
and
pack
mules
alike
.
Mail
shirts
were
tossed
in
barrels
of
sand
and
rolled
across
the
lumpy
surface
of
the
Flowstone
Yard
to
scour
them
clean
.
Weese
’
s
women
had
twenty
cloaks
to
mend
,
a
hundred
more
to
wash
.
The
high
and
humble
crowded
into
the
sept
together
to
pray
.
Outside
the
walls
,
tents
and
pavilions
were
coming
down
.
Squires
tossed
pails
of
water
over
cookfires
,
while
soldiers
took
out
their
oilstones
to
give
their
blades
one
last
good
lick
.
The
noise
was
a
swelling
tide
:
horses
blowing
and
whickering
,
lords
shouting
commands
,
men
-
at
-
arms
trading
curses
,
camp
followers
squabbling
.