Chapter 52

Eastwatch-By-The-Sea
Just after the arrival of the Iron Fleet

Yara Greyjoy, Queen of the Iron Islands, better known by her latest epithet of “Yara the Bottomless,” now prepared her nasty surprise for the Night King.

Wildfire.

“Prepare the jars! Prepare to launch!” Yara ordered the crew, even as Lord Darren Haerd, her lover and deputy, began to carry out her commands.

Now was the test of her strategy. There was no doubt that the ships would burn. The only question was ... what would happen to the wights when they did? Would they swim, contrary to expectation? Would they drown? Would they burn, too? So far, they tended to burn or drown, but what if they took up swimming? What could the Westerosi expect then?

The jars soon struck the sails and hulls of the various ships of the Dead navy, and soon enough, everyone had their answer. As the fascinated brethren of the Night’s Watch observed it, when not fighting wights already ashore, the Dead screamed in horror and poured out in panic into the waters. Most of them sank into the waters off the coast, screeching as they delved below the surface and into the shallows.

“Now the Drowned God will handle them!” Theon shouted to the men, “fear not, for he can bring them to heel!”

While few among the remnant believed in the Ironborn deity, it was nice to imagine that a maritime god would punish the mindless minions of the Night King. Besides, it was a fleet of the Ironborn that had just come to deliver them from the hands of the Dead. They could afford to respect Theon’s religious beliefs, especially given that he was the prince who renounced his birthright to die in their ranks.

The words were inspiring enough, anyway, as they gave what hope there was, at least when combined with the sudden presence of the Iron Fleet. The wildfire was certainly good news, as it even some of the odds that they faced, rather long ones at that, even now. If wildfire bought them some time and destroyed some wights into the bargain, so much the better. The danger was still quite real, for sure, but for now, their desperation was not as great.

The Night King didn’t stop his efforts yet, rushing to get his wights ashore before the wildfire could sink his fleet. It soon became clear, however, with one salvo after another of the wildfire jars, that if he didn’t retreat, his wights would be stranded and isolated at Eastwatch-by-the-Sea. He made one last desperate move to seize the castle before the wildfire jars could sink his whole fleet. He lifted his arms and awakened the slain warriors of the Night’s Watch, both crows and newcomers alike. From Wildlings to Ironmen, they arose as wights and had to be cut down.

Which they were, because now the first Ironmen landed at Eastwatch themselves and hurled themselves at the Dead with torches in hand. The wights, used to fighting men with steel, were no match for a foe whose weapon was flame. As two more men of the Night’s Watch fell to the Dead, they were succorred at last by the Ironborn and destroyed to the last wight. Seeing this, the Night King ordered the retreat and pulled away from the coast to focus on the Bay of Seals again. Better ordinary fire than wildfire, he must have judged.