Chapter 51

Eastwatch-By-The-Sea
Four days later

“Seven Hells, they’re back! They’re back!” Wyllam Waters, a Crownlands bastard serving as the lookout on the docks of Eastwatch, exclaimed, “the Dead have returned to attack us again!”

Sure enough, the Dead had returned to Eastwatch. The Night King had committed his wights and White Walkers to another assault Eastwatch, using his newest troops from Skagos and Skane to attack the fortress. It was a new strategy, but it had every possible chance of success, given how weak the realms of men were at this point. There was a legitimate worry that the defenses of Eastwatch and the Wall wouldn’t hold against the onslaught of the Dead.

This time, there was a pretty good chance that a handful of men sacrificing themselves would not be enough. How long could Eastwatch be held against this new, enlarged host of wights and White Walkers, reinforced from Skagos and Skane? What hope would or could there still be of defeating this larger assault upon their keep? How much longer, how many more attacks, what could really succor them against such a foe?

The numbers this time were far greater and Cotter Pyke in particular had fears that Eastwatch just wouldn’t be able to hold out for relief from other quarters. While commanding his men, Pyke idly wondered if there were any simultaneous assaults upon the Bay of Seals, or was the Night King focused on a return to his previous plan for seizing Eastwatch instead. Just how many of these new wights did the Dead have on hand to throw against Pyke and the Night’s Watch, anyway? Did Tormund Giantsbane and Sandor Clegane now had any to spare for relief to the castle or not? If so, would they send such troops or wait to see if this was a diversion and the main onslaught was against them?

For that matter, what about Yara Greyjoy, the much vaunted Queen of the Iron Islands, known by her epithet of Yara the Bottomless? Would she appear any time soon, and if not, what had become of her? Could she even be trusted to defend the realms of men, what with the Dead apparently unable to swim, even if they could sail? Theon aside, Cotter Pyke knew better than most what his fellow Ironborn preferred to do, traditional reavers and rapers that they were. Could such as his former country’s new Queen really be counted upon for such things as required by Eastwatch’s hour of need?

“By the Kraken, this is it for us! If only my sister could come to us and yesterday, then we might well stand a chance!” Theon thought aloud, even as the Dead continued to pour out of their ships onto the docks in staggering numbers.

“Light the torches! Light the torches! Set them all ablaze!” Cotter Pyke shouted as he saw several of his own men cut down by the foe.

No more heroic exploits now, Pyke thought to himself, Theon has the right of it. This is it. The fall of Eastwatch is now imminent, barring a miracle from the Gods. We didn’t have the time or numbers to stop them in the waters this time. They used the fog to come upon us before we could even see them. As the King in the North once said, the enemy indeed brings the storm. It just took him a while to do so.

Well, if we must die, we shall stand as we die. We shall not yield or show any quarter to the foe that would never give any to us. We must fend them off at any cost, dealing death to those already dead in what degree is possible for us. Others have died before us. Shall we do any less for the realms of men? Soon our watch shall be ended, just as theirs have ended.