Chapter 36 (Revamped)
(Erlend Mudd, Harlaw)
The Ten Towers was a relatively new castle, built by Rodrick Harlaw's twice-great grandfather Theomore Harlaw. The dead lord apparently blamed the death of his infant sons on the dampness of Harlaw Hall.
After having secured a significant portion of the Isle, leaving only the top of its northern territory untouched, the Banners marched straight towards the Ten Towers. It was reported that Harras Harlaw had moved into the ten towers with a majority of his men, so Erlend saw no reason to waste time in besieging Grey Garden if that was the case.
Of the castles he had seen so far, Erlend would admit that this one seemed to be the best put together. Then again the Harlaws had always been the most pragmatic of the Ironmen.
A shame that pragmatism wasn't passed on to the Greyjoys of the next generation. Hell, he suspected only Asha had it and it was minimal at best, the girl wasn't all that sane to begin with.
The castle was now surrounded by his Banners, there was no question on whether the siege would be successful or not. Rather the most pressing question is how long it would take.
They couldn't just put on the robes of a guardsman and hope to be let in, Rodrick wasn't stupid and had likely made sure that anyone who entered those gates was screened thoroughly before being let in. The man was far too cautious to be fooled by such a trick.
It could only work so many times before his enemies wisened up.
After meeting with his officers, Erlend had agreed that a siege was their best bet at the moment. There was a lot of discussion of just how exactly that siege would play out.
Some suggested having a team of men scour the castle for any gaps, something they could use to sneak as had been done in previous sieges such as the one in Harrenhal.
This was countered by the more cautious and experienced officers who argued that as the newest castle on the Island, it was unlikely for it to have any such gaps. Some went further by arguing that even if there was, Rodrick would've had them covered a long time ago.
Erlend simply allowed them to continue debating and discussing the siege, while he thought of his next moves. It was healthy for his officers to discuss battle plans, at the least, it would allow them to explore new avenues by which they could carry out battles.
In the meantime, Yohn and Benjen should soon be done with their orders. This left only Stannis and Oberyn to do their part, allowing him to besiege Pyke. Their host should be arriving at Great Wyk soon enough.
He could always just burn Pyke to the ground as Aegon did with Harrenhal. Though he'll have to wait for the rest of the Great Lords to arrive, really hammer in the 'invincible' factor.
What's the point of burning down an ancient and proud castle, if there was no one there to share the 'moment' with?
Oh, he was well aware that many would compare him with Aegon in the future, citing their similarities and all that rot, but he didn't care. Edmund was no Aenys Targaryen, and his brother wasn't going to end up like that dumbass but still somewhat useful Maegor.
What Visenya was thinking when she raised that fool, he had no idea. It was one thing to be cruel, all kings had to be brutal in some form if they wanted a stable hold over their realm. Yet, somehow Maegor took it to another level though.
His stepson was an idiot, but the useful kind, so he could be forgiven.
His musings would be interrupted as usual, this time by one of the officers who respectfully saluted him. Erlend raised his eyebrows at the Lieutenant, waiting for him to speak.
"Your Majesty, a contingent of riders have ridden out of the castle, heading our direction. They are carrying a white flag," He said.
Horton spoke up, "A parlay. Lord Rodrick Harlaw is known to be one of the more reasonable Lords among the Ironmen, it isn't too surprising that he would resort to talks."
"The question is not of how reasonable he is, It's if we should bother to entertain this in the first place," Marcus argued.
"Your Majesty, perhaps we should hear him out, it would do us no harm," Raymond suggested. "It would also avoid throwing the lives of our men away."
Murmurs of agreement came from the rest of the officers within the tent and a few of the lords present. Only the more martial river lords looked put off by this, as far as they were concerned, the only good ironmen were the dead ones.
Erlend saw no reason not to agree to a meeting, he wasn't losing anything either way and if Harlaw was to willingly surrender, then he wouldn't have to lose a capable administrator to this heap of rock.
A unfortunately strategically important heap of rock that could not be trusted under any other Great House.
"I'll hear what this Reaver lord has to say," Erlend announced, cutting off any argument that could have started over the matter.
…
Between the castle and the encampment of the besieging army, directly at the center was a group of men. All stood staring at each other tensely.
Of those present, only Erlend remained unfazed by the situation he was in.
Directly opposite to him stood an average-looking man, with short brown hair and eyes and graying beard. "I am Rodrik Harlaw, the Lord of the Isle we stand upon," he said firmly.
Horton cleared his throat, ''You stand in the presence of His Majesty, King Erlend Mudd. King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Lord Protector of the Sunset Kingdoms and Lord Paramount of the Vale."
(A/N: Edmund holds the title of Prince of the Riverlands, think Prince of Wales.)
The man blinked in surprise at the ostentatious announcement. "Pardon me, but why Lord Protector of the Sunset Kingdoms instead of the Seven Kingdoms?" Rodrik questioned curiously.
"It's no longer Seven Kingdoms, is it? At least not truly." Erlend replied.
There were only six kingdoms at the moment, The North, the Riverlands, the Vale, the Reach, the Stormlands, and Dorne. Six Kingdoms certainly didn't have the same feel to it as Seven. Erlend could count the Iron Islands, but he was merging it with the Riverlands anyway, so there was no need to go with the seven.
"Last I recalled we swore no oaths to you and Balon controls the Sunset Sea." Rodrik pointed out.
"Let's not kid ourselves Harlaw, How long will that last? months maybe, days perhaps hmm…" Erlend brushed off his words, "How long before my fleet sinks every ship that your little gaggle of Islands holds?"
"This…"
"We both know the direction this war is heading… or are you relying on that silly little horn of Euron's to win you this war…"
"Impossible!" Exclaimed one of the men behind Rodrik. "How do you know about that?"
"You'll have to thank your cousin for that, couldn't keep his mouth shut before my good Uncle gutted him. Roder, Rodrey… Rodey was it."
The young man looked ready to stab him then and there, fortunately for young Harras, he assumed. Rodrik's men kept him back, the old lord had likely expected this to happen.
"Seeing you so confident, I can assume the horn doesn't work," Rodrik said gravely.
"Naturally, as questionable as some of the decisions the Valyrians made in the past. They were by no means stupid enough to make something that can give outsiders control over their prized weapons of destruction."
The old man sighed dejectedly as his last hope shattered, "I should've known…" He murmured.
"So, tell me Lord Harlaw, what exactly was your intention in meeting with me?"
Giving his nephew a stern look to stand down, "I wish to offer my surrender." Rodrik said.
Erlend kept his expression steady, while the rest of his men looked surprised at the words of the Reader. It wasn't as much of a surprise to him, knowing the man's character.
"Well, then. I guess you'll be interested in what he has to say," Erlend motioned to his men to bring their prisoner.
Quietly they waited for his men to bring their target toward the center. Under Rodrik and his men's horrified stares, a crippled Victarion was brought before them.
"Indeed. That is Victarion Greyjoy. He had intended to convince you to support his position as Balon's heir." Erlend confirmed.
Rodrick looked solemn, "My nephew Maron is Balon's heir."
"That would be true if he wasn't dead."
"Impossible!"
"Oh yes, he and your other nephew Theon were killed by Euron. Only Asha was left alive, According to Vicky here, Euron intends to wed her to consolidate his position."
"Balon would never allow it."
"Too bad he's rotting in Pyke's dungeons to be able to do anything about it. Your sister on the other hand has gone mad with grief, at least more than normal."
"This…I…"
What a plot twist that was, except not really. Ever since the start of the war, Erlend had made sure his imprints were all over the Iron Islands. He had seen Euron's plot the minute he started it, only Alannys and Asha remained safe and that was only because Euron wanted Rodrik's compliance.
Old Vicky here was useful in giving him tangible accounts of Euron's coup, something that could be used to convince the Reader to more eagerly join his side, or at least not to deliberately hamper him.
"So what are your terms Harlaw?" Erlend asked.
Getting a hold of himself, "You will not harm what remains of my family, or my people and that we are allowed to keep our titles," Rodrik spoke, there was a bit of tremor in his voice.
The man had seemed to age visibly once Erlend had informed him of his kin's fate. It was admirable to see him mostly keep his calm despite it all.
"Fair enough. Though the worship of the drowned gods ends and your old ways are to be discarded." Erlend agreed.
He showed some hesitancy at that, "Many have tried before..."
Rolling his eyes at an old man's worries, "They made the mistake of keeping your more persistent Houses alive. It's quite simple, Lord Harlaw. If they refuse to give up the old ways, they go with it."
Rodrik stared at him for a few moments, "Every thrall and salt wife shall be freed and allowed to return to their homes. You will find none should you return to this Isle."
"Then it is agreed."
Rodrik knelt on the spot then and there, swearing his oaths towards Erlend. "I, Rodrik Harlaw, Harlaw of Harlaw, Lord of Harlaw, and the Ten Towers, do swear my loyalty to King Erlend Mudd, that my line shall remain ever so faithful to his line and heed his call wherever it may be needed."
His nephew Harras reluctantly did the same, though his eyes remained on the crippled Greyjoy, if looks could kill, then Victarion would be a dead man ten times over. Erlend had half a mind to just give the useless cripple to the lad, to see what he'll do to him.
To show sincerity, he instructed his men to hand over the Harlaw branch members to Rodrik's custody as a sign of good faith. Sure he wiped out one of their lines, but they'll get over it, they were one of the old-way enthusiasts anyway.
As for their ancestral blade Nightfall, Erlend already had Ardent. He didn't need a Valyrian blade and if he did find himself needing one. He could always just 'borrow' dark sister from that corpse stuck in a tree and that was only so he could give it to Senya.
The next few weeks would see Erlend hunting drowned priests and the more extreme of the Ironmen throughout Harlaw Isle. Rodrik said nothing, not caring a whit for what he considered the primary cause for why his people were prosecuted so much by the rest of Westeros.
By the time they were ready to set sail to Pyke, followers of the drowned god would become a near-extinct species within Harlaw.
A similar situation would become prevalent in the rest of the Iron Islands soon enough.
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