Arya senses that the city has fallen, even before she knows it, as she stares down from the battlements of the citadel, the New Castle, in the gathering twilight. One can tell. In the distance, she can hear the roars of triumph from the attackers, cries of dismay from the defenders. She knows what's coming as well. Grey Worm will always honour terms of surrender, but force him to take a city by storm, and things will go less well. Despite being guaranteed their lives, the new Lord, Balon Manderly, and his brother Robyn, refused to surrender. Even now, she thinks Lord Manderly will defend his citadel, to the end, until Winterfell is taken, or Sansa orders them to capitulate. For two weeks now, Grey Worm has kept up a ceaseless rain of incendiaries on the defenders, causing fires to break out right across the city, stone built though it is. She has helped out at various times, nursing the wounded, or joining the citizens in dousing the fires. She has seen her share of horrors in that fortnight; people burning in naphtha or wildfire, patients with their entrails hanging out, waiting for death. But then, she is used to horrors. No doubt the Unsullied will even now, behave in a civilised manner towards the city, but the rest of the attackers are likely to go on the rampage. White Harbour is one of the few places that has prospered under her sister's rule. The ironborn among the enemy will be eager to plunder it; the Northmen to take revenge on a city that was committed to her sister. In her mind's eye, she can see the soldiers pouring through the breach, sweeping the last defenders away. She imagines she can hear screams, as the soldiers reach the first houses. She is no enemy to Grey Worm, but the victorious soldiers won't know this. Fortunately, Lord Manderly and his brother, Robyn, agreed that Catelyn should leave the city, in the event that it was taken. They will sail for Braavos, on the Mandlerlys' own galley, moored in the Inner Harbour. Pretending a calmness she doesn't feel, she descends from the battlements, in search of the Princess. Bells have begun to toll across the city, confirming her suspicions. Soldiers are gathered in the castle's main courtyard, and already, townsfolk are hurrying through the entrance, to take refuge. She sees Balon Manderly arguing vociferously with Robyn, and his cousin Leywn.
Catelyn's right. Her betrothed does look a horse she thinks, uncharitably. She joins them.
"Close the gates, Balon " demands Lewyn. "We can't feed them all."
"Damn, you Lewyn, they're my people! What do you think will happen to them, tonight, if we don't let them through? Arya, you need to take ship, now, with the Princess. You too Robyn, you're not staying here. You and Catelyn are our future."
Robyn starts to protest, only for Balon to cut him off, "That's an order Robyn! One of us at least has to survive." Arya spies Jeyne, hurrying forward with Catelyn's hand in her own.
"My lord, " she addresses him. "Lewyn is right. You'll starve if you try to stand siege in the citadel, with thousands of townsfolk. But, let them through, and then offer to surrender on terms. Grey Worm isn't a monster."
"What would your sister say to that, Arya? At least she can count on my loyalty, if no one else's. "
My sister is doomed. Your loyalty is now to your own people. Save them."
She turns to Jeyne and the girl. They have already mounted horses, which grooms have brought up for them. Arya vaults into the saddle and is joined by Robyn Manderly and two soldiers. They trot forward, through the oncoming crowd, and ride out of the castle entrance, heading downhill for the harbour. The streets are full of people, panicking. Some run for the castle, others for the harbour, others just mill about, unsure. She hears people cursing, praying, weeping. All equally useless. However, they ride on hard, their horses driving the panicked crowds aside. This is one of the better areas of the city, clean, well-lit, and free from robbers and looters; even in a situation like this, there are scum who would take advantage of their fellow citizens. As they approach the harbour, she can feel a rising wind. She can hear sounds that she would rather not hear; shouts and cries, the roar of flames, and the shattering of broken class. She can smell smoke, and already, embers are drifting past her. One snags in her hair, and she beats at it. She looks to her right and sees an orange glow, in the darkness, as buildings start to burn. They dodge a riderless horse that races out of a side street in front of them, as she curses it.
They ride up to the waterfront, crowded with folk, rich and poor alike, and dismount. All manner of craft are being launched, some of them dangerously overloaded. No doubt, there will be people making fortunes tonight, charging outrageous sums to desperate passengers. As she watches, one skiff sinks slowly under the surface, far too many people having leapt on board. Their screams are suddenly cut off, as the sea swallows the boat. Along with Manderly, and the soldiers, she draws her blade, not scrupling to use the flat to force a way through he crowds. The Manderlys' galley has started to set sail, the captain no doubt terrified of being overwhelmed by panicked townsfolk. It is now about thirty yards from the shore.
"Do you swim?" she yells at her comrades. They affirm they do, all apart from Jeyne. "I never learned to."
"Then take my hand. Take off your dress, and your boots. They'll only drag you down. " The poor woman is terrified as she undresses. Like the others, Arya, kicks off her boots, and then jumps into the sea, with Jeyne, relieved to see that Catelyn, and the others are already in the water, swimming for the galley, now only twenty yards off. She shuts her ears to the screams and cries, coming from the dying city, concentrating only on keeping Jeyne above the surface. But, Jeyne struggles, panicking now that they are out of their depth. She has wrapped her arm around Arya's neck, and they both go under. Arya had no time to draw breath before going under and quite instinctively, drives her fist as hard as she can into Jeyne's stomach to break her hold, freeing herself from the other woman's grasp. She rises again to the surface, treading water, as she inhales deeply. She looks for Jeyne, but sees nothing. She is not the only swimmer, she realises, as she circles around, trying to locate the woman below the surface in the darkness. But, there is no hope for her. She must ensure that Catelyn reaches safety. Sadly, she strikes out for the galley. The others have reached it now, being hauled in on ropes. She cries out to them, and another rope is flung down to her. As she reaches the deck, she sees Catelyn.
"Where's Jeyne?" asks the girl. "She never made it" Arya responds sadly.
"May the waters rest lightly upon her" remarks Robyn, sadly, and bowing his head, as Catelyn starts crying.
Arya cries too, for Jeyne, as she stares back at the doomed city, a blanket around her shoulders, even as they reach the open sea. The poor woman came so close to safety, only to perish at the last. Another death to add those on her conscience.