March of the Winter Wolves

In the North, Roderick Dustin raised an army unlike the usual kind: grey-haired men in old mail, armed with axes, maces and rusted iron swords, riding the shaggy horses of the cold country. They called themselves the Winter Wolves, following the old northern custom of old men leaving their homes when winter came so the stores would last for the young; they knew most would not return, and marched all the same.

The column came down from Winterfell and reached the Twins, where Lord Forrest Frey and his wife, Lady Sabitha Vypren, joined with their own men. From there Roderick led the Wolves and the Freys, together with Robb Rivers, to the God's Eye, where several riverlords had gathered to bar the way of a host out of the Westerlands under Lord Humfrey Lefford.

The Winter Wolves asked for, and were given, the honor of opening the attack in the battle fought by the lake. They charged the westermen spearmen five times; two of every three northmen were left dead or wounded, but Lefford's army broke, and the day ended as a clear victory for the Blacks.

Not long after, Ser Criston Cole was killed south of the lake by Robb Rivers's archers. As soon as word reached him, Roderick Dustin sounded his war horn and threw the remaining Wolves, together with their river allies, against Cole's troops, in a slaughter that became known as the Butcher's Ball. Before the first charge by the lake, Roderick had said: "Better we deal with these lions before the dragons come."

The few Winter Wolves who remained still had one more battle ahead of them, this time at Tumbleton. They rode out through a back gate with war cries, once most of Ser Garibald Grey's men had already reached safety behind the walls. Outnumbered ten to one, Roderick Dustin led his men against Lord Ormund Hightower; he killed him and his cousin, Ser Bryndon Hightower, before going down himself, spent by his wounds.

The treachery of Ser Hugh Hammer and Ser Ulf the White sealed the fate of the Blacks at Tumbleton, and with it fell the last of the Winter Wolves. Of the veterans who had marched down from the North, nothing was left but the memory of their march and a line they were said to repeat as they set out: "Winter has come. Time to go. No better way to die than with a sword in hand."