"Enemy attack!" The veterans of House Karstark who had stayed behind hurriedly sounded their horns. Few had remained: those who simply could not bear to leave their possessions, and some old farmers who had not managed to relocate in time.
But by and large, Karstark's wealth had already been moved away.
Military horns began sounding in waves, yet they could not change their fate.
It was too cold. They could not even keep hold of their weapons.
The soldiers saw only winter sweeping toward them, followed by the dead climbing over one another up the hill toward Karhold's battlements.
"Long live King Gendry!"
"Long live King Gendry!"
For a time, the clash of steel rang out as the humans wielded their weapons and torches. The wildfire and burning oil they threw down ignited a series of blazes, but the cold was so intense that the flames could not exert their full effect.
Meanwhile, the wight horde and the cold engulfed everything.
The wights simply kept advancing. Even with spears thrust through them, they still struck hard enough to knock human soldiers' heads off.
"Where is the enemy?" Cregan demanded, swearing.
"Damn it, how is there a wight horde here too?" He held an obsidian longsword, with a steel sword still hanging from his sword belt. Cregan saw that the dead had already surged onto the battlements like a tide.
Human attackers were not so heedless of losses. Usually, a few rounds of burning oil would have routed the enemy.
But this was a wight horde. The White Walkers did not care about losses.
Cregan hurled a torch into a wildling wight's face. The wight perished in the flames, and Cregan roared with laughter.
Then another sound came from the white mist. A White Walker had arrived without anyone noticing.
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