Battle plans took a turn in light of recent news. Hundreds of archers were added to rooftops, huge spears were unearthed from dungeons and Ser Davos Seaworth personally went around informing every lord, lady and soldier of the three dragons. While the Onion Knight had first been assigned to guarding the front gates, he would now be on the roofs.
Davos was surprised to find that despite the update, many seemed unfazed, dreams of victory yet intact. They are willing to walk through fire for their king, Davos mused. They may have to.
Maester Avery found him while Davos was on the rooftops. “Ravens,” he said shortly. “The king needs to read this.”
Davos found Jon in his chambers, in the process of donning his armor. He decided to break the bittersweet news first, that of Sansa Stark’s safe arrival at the Vale of Arryn, coupled with Podrick’s untimely death. But before Jon reacted to that, Davos read out the contents of the second, one of greater pertinence.
“Let the past be the past, kneel to me and rise again as Lord of Winterfell,” he finished.
“That would please her, would it not?” Jon replied, in tones that suggested he was considering anything but. “Throw her message in the fire. Any peace between Stark and Targaryen died with Arya.”\
Jon dressed for the battle without the help of a squire, or at least tried to. After a while, Davos knew he had to intervene. As he helped Jon tighten his chainmail, he said, “Speaking of your sister, you need not worry; her body is being carried back to Winterfell with thirty good men.”
The mention of his sister made Jon silent again, bar the mention of a quick thanks. He stood silent as Davos helped him wear his armor, looking at the letter Daenerys Targaryen had sent, its remnants smoldering in the fire. Davos knew that in these silent moments of contemplation, it was his job to refocus his mind on what mattered.
“The Dothraki are sure to suffer,” he said. “They have known nothing but summer lands, and after weeks of voyaging by sea, I can bet my remaining fingers all their lust for war will be vomited out of them. It also helps that the idiots do not wear armor. They will have to throw their might at us, but as long as our men on windows and roofs do their job, we will cause a lot of damage.”
“What do you think of our chances?” Jon said, eyes still in the fire.
Davos knew his honesty was why he had Jon’s ear more than the other northern lords. There is more of Stannis in him than he knows. “They outnumber us ten-to-one,” he said, “but their army is of southerners and foreigners who have known nothing but summer. They do not have the men for siege. Our plan was solid.”
“Was?”
Davos recalled Theon’s startling admission before his head separated from his body. “Well, if the Greyjoy was to be believed, we did not account for her dragons,” he said, trying to be as casual as possible, and failing miserably.
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