The journey seemed to go on forever, Sansa was prepared to swear that, despite all of their walking, they were not getting anywhere. She thought that they were headed in the right direction to the Last Hearth, but she could not be sure. The snow had buried the road and while she knew that they were headed south, or at least she was fairly sure that they were, she could not rid herself of the fear that they might go right past it. She kept this fear to herself so as not to upset those traveling with her. The group had swollen as they had gone on; their numbers bolstered as others joined them. Among them were Wildlings, both warriors and those too young or old to fight, men of the Watch, Gold Company members and soldiers of the King as well as some smallfolk from the Gift. The snow continued, growing deeper and deeper. Several men had to walk ahead to force a path for the rest. It was made even more difficult due to the fact that her dress was soon soaked and the lower part seemed frozen and had to be dragged through the snow. Despite the harsh conditions and the fact that they were cold, wet and many of them were injured and it seemed that the snow would fall forever, they pressed on as hard as they could. They were driven by a force which proved greater than their weariness.
Fear.
No matter how hard they pressed themselves it seemed that the Others and their servants were never far behind. They could be heard behind them and beside them. Wildlings among the group declared that this was what had happened to them as Mance Rayder led them towards the Wall. At their urging the people built large fires at night and huddled together. Some people even fought amongst themselves, terrified of being the one on the edge of the group. Sansa could not sleep most nights, merely sat by the fire convinced that she could see things moving in the shadows beyond. She remembered Old Nan's stories of the Others hunting the living on dead horses and giant spiders. On nights where sheer exhaustion forced her to sleep her dreams were filled with nightmares. Most of them involved her running, falling and being torn apart by frozen corpses, many of which bore faces that she recognized, including her family. It was almost a relief to be shaken awake when her cries grew too loud and frightened the others.
Gradually the journey began to take its toll on the people and some could not keep up. They pleaded for the others to help and at first they tried, but it soon became clear that they could not help all who needed it as cold, hunger, wounds and weariness caused as more and more to became unable to continue. Sansa was told by two rangers from the Watch that the dead were gaining on them and unless they increased their pace those fleeing from them would be overtaken long before they reached the safety of Last Hearth. Sansa talked to all those who might have any ideas, but none could think of only one choice, leave those who could not keep up.
It tore at Sansa to do so, she tried and tried to think of some way to avoid having to do it, but she could think of nothing. Feeling consumed by guilt and yet numb and detached at the same time, she gave the order for those who could not keep up were to be left behind. The Willdlings seemed to have expected the decision and accepted it stoically. The Northmen and men of the Watch were far from happy, but understood. Even the southern soldiers were not happy, but accepted it. Sansa did not forbid any who wished to from trying to help those who fell behind, the others would simply not wait for them. As the column pushed on people began to fall behind. Those who could not keep up pleaded for the mercy of a swift death to spare them from what they were sure was a worse fate at the hands of their pursuers. This was granted, both out of mercy and it was also hoped that by dying soon enough that the Others would overlook their bodies and fail to raise them as they had no time to burn them.
Not all were given the mercy, not having anyone near to them or falling down slopes or in some way being cut off from the rest of the people and were simply left behind. These sent out piteous cries, for help, for a swift death and curses on those who were leaving them behind. Though her guards argued against it and they tore at her heart, Sansa insisted on moving to the back of the column where she could hear all of them. She remembered overhearing her father, or it may have been one of her brothers' repeating his words she could not remember, saying that if a lord would condemn someone to death, they should do the deed themselves and hear their final words. She was not physically killing them, but it was her decision which was condemning them to die and so she felt that she owed it to them to hear their words. She also felt that the curses were well-earned and she would have felt worse if she had attempted to keep from hearing them. Nor was this the end of their problems.
As few had had any time to gather food before they were forced to flee, what little they had soon ran out. Hunger gnawed at Sansa's stomach, though she tried to not show it as it would be setting a bad example. All the people were suffering from hunger and it was rumored that some of them had taken killed and devoured people too weak to fight back. Sansa's stomach churned at the thought, but she gave no orders to investigate. Even had it been found that the rumors were true, there was nothing that could be done about it and it would have damaged moral even more if she had tried. In addition to all of these, Sansa was feeling sick as well. It was not quite a fever, though some of the pains were the same. Her head throbbed and she felt queasy in her stomach, her hands shook and she was sweating despite the cold. As time went on, things became even worse and she found herself craving the wine back at Winterfell.
At times her heart would pound so hard that she feared that it would explode or burst from her chest. She would forget who she had just spoken to and what they were speaking about and more. Worst of all were the dreams. At times she dreamed that she had died and as punishment for all that she had done she was condemned to run through the snow forever, never reaching safety or escaping those who pursued her. In other dreams they reached Last Hearth, only to find it a snowed-over ruin filled with the Others and their servant. In others she heard the voices of those who had died or been left behind calling from the darkness to come and join them. Worst of all had been the dream when she saw Jon, walking towards her with his head down, as if very weary, but when she ran to him, she saw the gapping wound in his belly and he raised his head she saw his eyes glowing blue eyes. After awakening from that particular dream, she made Igra swear that if it became necessary, she would kill Sansa swiftly; after all that she had seen, Sansa felt that part of her would welcome death. To be free of the guilt, the fear and the damned cold which seemed to sink into her bones. Sometimes she felt it would be peaceful, almost pleasant, to simply sit down under a tree, go to sleep and allow the cold to take her. She thought of when she was back in King's Landing facing execution and the comfort that she had taken from the thought that she would be with her family again. Hungry, cold and terrified in the wilderness she found those thoughts returning to her, at times even stronger than they had been then. However; despite the appeal, she forced herself to fight against those desires. The situation had changed.
She was now Wardeness of the North and the people of the land looked to her for leadership; which they would do now more than ever now that the Wall has fallen and the King may be dead. As ruler she could not be selfish, she had been that enough in the past, she had to live for her people if nothing else. There was also Arya. She had not heard from her sister, but Sansa could not let herself think that her sister was dead. Thus, Sansa could not die. She remembered how she had felt when she thought that all her family were dead and she could not subject her sister to that. So, she struggled on through the snow.
The more time passed the harder it became to tell time. The clouds were growing thicker and the sun harder to see. Dawn came late and nightfall came sooner and sooner. Sansa feared that in time the sun would vanish entirely and a night would come. Sansa remembered Old Nan's stories about the Long Night, of men who were born, grew old and died without ever seeing the sun and a cold worse than what she was feeling on her skin seized her. More than ever she wished that her family was still alive. She wished that her father and Robb, both great warriors, were here to fight the battles which were to come and to comfort the people with the knowledge that a strong man was leading them. She wished that her mother was with her to hold her and tell that everything was going to be alright, like she used to do when Sansa had been a child and bad dreams had awoken her in the night. She longed for them and the knowledge that they were gone hurt afresh. Thus, in every increasing misery, did they continue their march.
Until the attack came.
She was awoken to the sound of people screaming. At first she could not understand what people were saying and it as too dark, even though she was sure that it was past dawn, to see what was going on. At last someone near her cried out and she was able to understand what they were saying.
"THEY ARE ATTACKING!" The effect of these words was immediate and terrible.
Any order which may have been broke down almost as soon as the words were uttered. People did not seem to know where the attack was coming from and so did not know which way to run in order to escape and so people were running in all directions. A few tried to rally the people and impose some order, but these were for the most part ignored as the panic continued to spread. From somewhere Igra had secured a torch and was using it to look first one way and then another. At first Sansa could see nothing in the darkness and the driving snow. Then, as if by magic, the wind dropped down and Sansa could see and she wished that the snow would obscure them again.
The dead were walking.
There were Wildlings, men of the Watch and soldiers from the south and more. There were women and children, even animals. To her horror and guilt Sansa was certain that she saw some of the people whom they had had to leave behind. Of greater concern to her and the others was the fact that the dead had them surrounded and were attacking them from all sides. The dead had ranged out ahead of them and surrounded them in the dark before attacking. Just then a loud voice was heard over the cries and screams.
"FORM A CIRCLE! GET SOME TORCHES!" The voice belonged to Aaron Rivers, a member of the Watch. He possessed no rank, but just then people were willing to follow anyone who at least sounded like they were doing something.
People clustered together, weapons pointing out in all directions. Inside the circle some tried to make a fire and more torches, but were hindered by the wetness of all of the wood and everything else. The dead did not give them time and came at them in a shambling rush. The people tried to fight back, but they were heavily outnumbered and the dead simply swarmed over them. Blade and flame did for some, but for every one which fell, four more took their place. The cold also grew so intense that it was painful to move or even breath.
A scream drew Sansa's attention. Turning, she saw Igra go down, undead biting and clawing at her. Several rushed at Sansa, who desperately tried to back away. She tripped on the uneven ground and she fell on her back. Looking up at the creatures closing in on her she felt terror like she had never felt before. Her heart was pounding so hard it seemed to make the ground itself shake. After a moment she realized that the ground was indeed shaking, but it had nothing to do with her heart. The ground was thundering with the hoofs of horses.
Mounted men, moving swiftly as they could while being hindered by the snow, appeared in the mist and crashed into the undead. The impact nocked many of the undead to the ground, trampling and breaking bones. Despite this, many of them began to struggle back to their feet, that was then when the second wave appeared. This time it was men on foot, many of them carrying torches. These set about setting fire to the corpses while their comrades hack at them, or pinned them to the ground with spears. As some of the men came to her and her remaining guards Sansa was at last able to see the sigils on their shields. While there were several sigils of different Northern houses, the one most predominate was the flayed man of House Bolton. The sight brought back unpleasant memories and when one of the Bolton men dismounted from his horse and approached Sansa, who was being helped back to her feet by Mally, had to restrain herself from calling on her guards to attack the man. Unaware of her feelings, the man stopped three or four feet from her and bowed.
"Lady Stark?" He asked, his voice muffled by his helmet.
"I am." She replied, bringing her feelings back under control.
"I am Sir Mavrock Byrivers, sworn to Lady Bolton of the Dreadfort. She was sending us to reinforce the Wall when word reached us of its fall. We then made our way to the Last Hearth and have been looking for survivors ever since. Two days ago our scouts spotted these undead and gave chase. Thank the gods that we were able to get here in time." As he finished speaking Sansa looked around.
It was clear that with the intervention of their saviors the battle had swung in favor of the living. It did not appear that none of their masters were present, a fact for which Sansa was very grateful. Seeing that matters were well in hand, she turned her attention back to Sir Byrivers.
"Are we near the Last Hearth?"
"We are, My Lady, though, in fact, you passed it. You are actually five miles to the south-west of it." Sansa nodded, shuddering to think what would have happened if Sir Byrivers and the others had not seen the foe and given chase.
"Very well," she said; "We will go there once all the bodies have been burned."
"Of course, My Lady." He replied. Already people were beginning to gather fuel and lay the bodies together in preparation.
Author's Notes: Hello everyone, I am so sorry that it has been so long since I last updated. I will try to do better in the future. I hoped you liked this chapter and that I conveyed how misrible traveling in the snow is. Well, bye for now. Happy Easter and may Jesus bless you.