Chapter 3: Chapter 2
Damian Rivers.
The bandit prisoner's name was either John or Jake-I couldn't make it out because Marik had knocked out half his teeth. Most of what he said, though, was a lot of swear words raining down on us. Marik even wanted to knock out a few more teeth or break something, but I stopped him with a gesture.
- Speak up, or I won't hold Marik back any longer.
- You're all dead. You have no idea what kind of sea lord is behind me! He'll wipe you out, he's got a lot of connections. And not only you, but all your loved ones will be fucked like whores," the brigand spat on my boot.
And he did it for nothing. After we broke his arm and kicked him in the kidneys, he became noticeably quieter. Then I continued:
- "What's your sea lord's name? - The man nodded for some reason. - Why are you smiling, you moron? Tell me your name! - I kicked him in the kidneys again.
The bandit coughed, then spoke:
- No one can help you now. You're all dead, so I'll tell you, it's Lorik Sea Claw! He's got a crew of thugs bigger than the Wildlings, taller than Grigor Clegane and more skilled than any Kingsguard," he laughed. - I can smell your blood already...
- I see," I shot him again, but in the solar plexus. - Marik, give him a little more punch to get him talking.
- I'd love to," Marik grinned and raised his fist at the bandit, but was stopped by Varik:
- Wait, Damian! This boy," he nodded at Marik, "is strong and eager to fight, but I'd rather let someone else handle the information. I, for instance, have more experience.
- Varick is right, Ser Damian," Ser Brandon interjected. - I haven't known him long, but I'm sure he'll be able to keep from killing that scoundrel. And your Maric is young and hot, so he might kill him accidentally.
Makes sense. Let a more experienced man do it, because it's unseemly for me to beat someone up in front of another knight. I don't think he'd say anything to me, though. He was a prisoner of that bastard himself. And Ser Brandon doesn't look like the ideal light hero from the ballads, he's more like a warrior wise with experience. He's a man you can relate to, even be friends with. If it works, of course.
Leaving Varik with the bandit leader, we started "inventorying" the property expropriated from the bandits and interviewing the prisoners.
Among them I found another warrior. Her name was Gerda, a blonde-haired and grey-eyed beauty with a blue tattoo on one side of her face. She was from the Barley Mountain Clan, a clan Damian had never heard of before, and he had no interest in the North. Gerda wanted to join my squad, though I didn't offer it to her. At first I even thought of refusing, but when I looked more closely into the eyes of this girl, a little shorter than me, I realised that she was indeed a fighter. And she has a history that makes her reluctant to go back to the North-because I think she could find a way to get word to her family. Maybe she even ran away from home to become a warrior. Who knows, but I think I could use someone like that.
Though Ser Brandon has already advised me to send her home - he's an old-school man, and he doesn't even recognise northern women with weapons as truly dangerous opponents. I smiled, nodded, and promised to heed his advice. He shook his head as he left me for his squire, muttering something about "young people who can't keep their dicks in their trousers".
In my opinion, Gerda and Varik, who will hardly refuse to join me, will be a good core of my squad's "sergeants". I intend to enlarge it in the near future. Besides, there were a few young men of about thirteen or fourteen years of age among the prisoners, and they were quite sturdy. I'm sure they'll be keen to take up the warrior's path, but we'll see.
As for the spoils, we got a few horses, armour and poor weapons, but still usable, provisions, expensive cloths and furs, some tools, and a small treasury of silver and copper coins and jewels, which Tom estimated at about fifty gold pieces. That's good.
When we had finished dividing the booty and feeding the captives, we set about burying the dead. Still, as ugly as they were to the natives, for religious reasons they themselves had begun to dig a mass grave.
When it was almost ready, Varick came to me and told me what he had learnt from Jay or John - it didn't matter what his name was. After analysing all the information, I came up with this picture: Lorik Sea Claw is a rather ordinary pirate captain, who occasionally does some sea robbery and slave trading. He and Jay-John had an arrangement: the forest brigands would deliver live goods to the pirates, and they in turn would pay them generously. Loric's crew consisted of about fifty or sixty snouts, mostly armed with axes and rapiers. There were almost no archers, at least our "tongue" didn't notice them.
Also, this captain was just a couple of days away from arriving on the coast near Sigard.
The information is interesting and useful. I even had a desire to participate again in the adventure to "eradicate crime" in the Riverlands at the expense of the pirates. But I restrained myself: there are too many obstacles.
For one thing, I don't have enough men to carry out an operation of this magnitude. No, if the men I was going with were my former colleagues, we might have a chance. But we don't. The Westerosi (these ones, anyway) are simply not yet equipped to handle such twists and turns of my mind. After all, there are only nine of us: me, Varick, Ser Brandon, his squire, Gerda, Marik, Glen and Ben, and Tom. Nine against 50 is ridiculous. I'm no master of the blade. I can't say anything specific about Ser Brandon, as I haven't seen him in actual combat. Gerda inspires respect in me for some reason, you can sense from her that she's been in battles, but again, I won't say what she's capable of. Glen, Ben, and Marik only made it through the first fight. Varick is a skilled warrior, although he's a better archer than a sword fighter, but he'll give a lot of people a head start with them. That's from my side, but the pirates' men are quite warlike and brutal. Not as violent as the Ironborn - it's normal for them to have blood on their hands at the age of Glenn and Ben - but not optimistic either.
Secondly, time. It was two days before this sea wolf arrived. We won't even have time to run to Seagard to get help from Lord Mallister. And would he want to help us? He may send his men to find the pirates, but then we'd be out of luck and wouldn't be rewarded for our labours. And I don't want to give it all up. There's a lot of money to be made from pirates.
By the way, we'll have to cancel the Sigardian tournament. We couldn't make it, even if we packed up and went right now. Just with the stuff we got from the bandits, we'll move twice as slow, and add women and children to the mix... All in all, the situation doesn't look good. Not dangerous for us, but it looks like I'm missing my goldfish.
- Why are you sighing, Ser Damian? - I heard Varick's voice. He was sitting next to me by the fire, grinning his thirty-two, or how many teeth does he have? The bastard smelled so much like chicken that I was hungry. He was still eating, judging by the apple in his hand.
- I thought over the situation of a possible... though now impossible clash with the pirates. After weighing the pros and cons, I've come to the conclusion that we can't win. We'd have to go straight to Sigard, and we'd be late for the tournament because of the ballast," I nodded at the women and children. - There's nowhere for them to go back to.
- Is that your problem, Damian? - Varick asked me, taking a bite of his apple, a surprised Varick addressing me in a patronising manner. - I didn't see so much "nobility" in you when you were young. A little more, and I'll believe you took more from your mother than from your father.
- You knew my mother?
- I only saw her. I didn't take much interest in her," he shrugged. - You look like her. Your hair colour, your eyes... there's something noble about you, and I don't mean the Freys. I'm sorry if I offended you. Your mother must have run away from home when she was young. Maybe she didn't want to marry, or maybe she was hiding from some evil. Anyway, even I could see her high birth in Westeros," he chuckled. - Yeah... Hmm, wait, I think she was from Braavos. She was. The squad that served the Freys temporarily and left before the Baratheon rebellion was definitely from there. My doctore said every last one of them was Braavosian. So we know something about your mother.
- That's reassuring," I said, smiling as I continued to ponder my own thoughts.
- You know, I wouldn't mind counting teeth and spilling blood to pirates. I have my own history with them," Varick spoke again as he finished his apple. - Anyway, if you want to, you'll always have the opportunity," and he left.
Well, good for you, Varik, you woke up the adventurer in me and got away. And me again dream about letting the blood of those whom I have never seen before. Heh.
Assuming we'd never make it to the tournament anyway, I gave the command to spend the night at the outlaw camp site. We decided to bring the captured Jay to Lord Millister's court, so we put him in the prison cave.
That night a woman of about thirty came to me, begging me to take them with me. They were her and her three children: a lad of thirteen, I believe, of the young men who had expressed a wish to enter my service, a younger son of ten, and a niece of twelve. This woman had been a miller's wife, that is to say, the family was not poor, but her free and prosperous life had come to an end since the attack of the brigands. She was now asked to be my de facto marquette - to cook meals, to do the laundry, to warm the bed at night. Her youngest son could be a stable boy and help her in the kitchen until he was old enough to fight. Same with her niece, though she's too small for bedding for my taste. It's still a good way out for women in this era, because otherwise she has only one road to go - prostitution. So I don't mind having a handmaiden to help with the household, and I don't want to go to brothels - I'll catch something else, provincial brothels are not the courtesies of Littlefinger. So Aubrey - that was the woman's name - began to prove her usefulness that night.
And in the morning, we had some unpleasant news. The rascal, the surviving leader of the bandit gang, escaped from custody while Ser Brandon's squire was guarding him. Killed the lad and slipped away, killing all our horses in the process. He tried to kill Glen on watch, too, but a hard blow on the head only made him bleed a little and sent him to sleep till morning. The lad's head is strong, though, he was born with his shirt on. But so were we, because after a long night with Aubrey, there's no way I'd have been able to react to someone coming at me.
- We're in bad shape," Varick spat. - He'll be running back to his 'friends' and telling them he slaughtered all our horses. They'll risk getting out of their puddle to get the loot, which won't get far-we can't get out of here fast enough with all our ballast. And it's a shame to leave beautiful women and gold behind. What are we gonna do? Have you thought of something?
I smiled at him, even though I was in a bad mood:
- Do you think I have a solution for everything?
- I've seen a lot of commanders in my time. You're not the most brilliant, but you're not the dumbest either. You've got brains, you're not squeamish, so it's okay to follow you.
- And you will? - I asked him straight out.
- As you can see, I didn't run out of here carrying off as much gold as I could.
- Heh. You're right, I do have a plan. But I'm not sure it's realistic, there's too few of us.
- Few, not few, you talk and I'll listen," he sat down across from me.
- Okay, but first, let's call all of us. Maybe someone else will have some good advice....
The "Small Council" of our warband consisted of me, Ser Brandon, Gerda, Varick, Tom, Glen, Ben, Marik, and a merchant from Dorne. He'd fought in Robert Baratheon's Rebellion, even fought in the Battle of the Trident, but after that he'd gone into trade, because sometimes it's safer than war.
When they heard my proposal and everything I'd thought of in terms of defence, they agreed to it almost without a second thought. After all, there weren't many options. So we spent the next hour going over possible battle strategies and the probabilities of what might happen.
My basic plan was that we would ambush them at our current parking spot. Make it seem as if we didn't expect an immediate attack and that we were relaxed, even if a prisoner had escaped from us.
In two or three days we will be attacked and ready to ambush. All methods and means will be used: arrows, molotov cocktails, traps and so on. We armed two more women and five boys who could actually hold weapons, or rather they had spears and bows. One of the women turned out to be a hunter, like her dead husband. That's very good for us. A lot of things could be to our advantage in the coming battle.
All of this Loric's crew won't attack us, a third at least will stay on the ships. So we should expect 30 to 35 men. Given that we'll make our own kind of "fortress" out of the camp, this will create a situation that happens when besieging fortresses. That is, in order to capture or just to besiege one fortress you need three times as many people as among the defenders. There are nine of us who are willing to fight for the most part, plus seven let's call them "militia". That makes sixteen. That's almost 2 to 1. And we're up against pirates, not, say, trained Lannister heavy infantry.
Of course, if I'm in a tight spot, I'll run away and avenge my defeat sometime in the future, but I don't want to lose the men I've already found under my command. That's why I tried to think over everything while building traps and fortifications, though they were more like barricades. And also I made two more cocktails, I didn't have enough material for more. Besides, oil and wine were needed elsewhere.
Everyone was working, even Ser Brandon was digging wolf holes with the women and children. It was either Marik or Tom on the lookout. Both were pretty good at keeping out of sight of the pirates coming towards us.
There was a chance they would leave us alone, but my gut told me there would be bloodshed soon. Such is my life and luck hehehe.
On the morning of the fourth day, Marik spotted the enemy's slow approach and reported it. We were all ready to go. Even all the remaining women decided to take up axes, spears and knives to protect themselves from the savage temper of the pirate crew. After all, rumours of the Iron Islands are very colourful.
The approach to attack us was actually only from the forest, for behind was a cliff, and in it caves.
The barricades were in two lines. The first actual barricade was over a metre high with its own features. And the second was a fake one, behind which Glen, Ben and three other boys were now standing as a diversion, so that they might be attacked by a horde of these pirates.
And so they did. No negotiations or long discussions among the ironborn. The captain had spoken, so they went on the attack. After standing there for a while, while their opponents ran at them, they "gave a run" to us at the first real barricade. And unsuspecting pirates began to hide behind those first barricades from our arrows and bolts. Only two of them we managed to kill and I think a couple of wounded. Still, our opponents are not yesterday's peasants. They are neither sowing nor reaping fields, they are used to arrow fire and sword or axe fighting.
I waited until there were at least half a dozen men behind the barricade, and their archers were firing back, and then I shot a personally lit arrow at a certain spot in the barricade. In an instant it burst into flames so that it looked as if there was an explosion, which even threw off a few burning bodies of archers that were screaming. The barricades were filled with cocktail, wine and oil, enough for a small fireworks display.
At the same time we were being pressed from the left and right flanks by the rest of the sea robbers, about twenty men on either side. They must have lost almost no men in the traps we had set. After all, for the most part, they were exactly on the sides of the camp.
- Archers! - I gave the command to all our archers and bolt throwers. They understood the command and divided almost equally into two sides and began to shower their shells on the enemy. Some women and boys threw pebbles with a slingshot. It would have been indispensable, but, alas, I only thought of it yesterday when I saw one of the boys practising. Unfortunately, smart thinking comes after the fact.
When they got close to the barricade, the next thing I did to them happened. From the niches that had been prepared in advance, spears and homemade spades made of tree branches came out sharply, which pierced many opponents, but, alas, not all of them. Some of the more dexterous ones dodged, and almost without slowing down their speed, rushed towards us in close combat.
I don't know exactly how many survived our last attack, but when the fight broke out, it was quite intense.
The angry pirates didn't want to take anyone prisoner, they just wanted to kill us. I killed about three men. Ser Brandon two, Varick one, Glen and Ben one on two, Marik also one, but the rest, surprisingly enough, it was Gerda.
And the juice of the situation is that she has become a very serious addition to my team. I didn't think that Martin's world really had such individuals, but it turned out that my suspicions about the prototype of the Northmen were true - Vikings. And in the case of Gerda, it turned out that our blond Valkyrie is a real berserker, who with foam on her lips and a frenzied look made even one of the pirates shit himself. And I'm not exaggerating, I saw it in person with Ser Brandon.
Moreover, it turned out that there were four more archers in the ambush, and she was able to smell where they were and rush to them like a wild she-wolf and kill them.
But after the fight was over she was knocked out not even from two heavy wounds, but from the fact that she had entered her state. Varik, who had heard about such shots, told me that.
I should make a note for the future not to get under her skirt under any circumstances, or I'll be left without arms and legs and without cock and balls. Well, I don't want that kind of happiness. But to make a member of my group, I think I'll do it.
We captured a couple of men and interrogated them. It turned out that the captain was killed in action and now all available information was only from them.
It turned out that most of the enemy jumped on us, and on the ship, which is literally a day's journey to the west and there on it only a dozen pirates. And also there is all their provisions, gold, promised to Jayu, who was already killed by them, and prisoners, I think, a dozen of them.
After interrogation by Varick and me, they were handed over to Ser Branden "for a fair trial"....
Greed awoke in me again, fuelled by my hamster. Looking into Varick's eyes, I realised he was obviously thinking the same thing I was.
WE'RE GOING ON A NEW ADVENTURE!
I don't know if I was crazy or not, but I wasn't sitting still. I didn't even have any plans. There was just an algorithm: Find the ship, get on it, kill the crew, take it all for yourself.
Not everyone could be part of the adventure. Ser Brandon was wounded in the leg and he stayed with the women and children to protect them, Glen lost one eye and stayed with his brother. Also surviving are two boys who I feel will make my squad. After today's baptism of fire, they deserve it.
Besides Varik and me, Gerda, who came to her senses and after listening to me briefly nodded in agreement, Tom, Marik and that merchant who smelled the profit and his share. His name was Harvin, by the way. Here was our six, after an hour's rest we set off after the execution of two pirates by Ser Brandon on a new business.
The next day we got to the place where the ship was to be and to our luck Varick turned out to be a very skilful Gestapo man of local mould. They were in position. A little reconnaissance and at night there was a new sortie to the ship, where we killed the unsuspecting remaining pirates, only it seems a couple of them smelled something and were ready to give us an answer, but were only able to slightly wound Varik and Harvin.
After finishing that action too, I lay back on the captain's bed and thumbed through the gold coins, anticipating how I would spend them. I loved the feeling. Something I'd been missing for a long time. And what this world had given me: blood, money, fame, self-satisfaction, the ability to do what I loved and not have to sigh at my fat-ass bosses....
- Damian, you lucky bastard! - Varick burst in on me with joy. - We did it!
- You finally realised it. - I smiled at him and got out of bed. - What's the "catch"?
- Twelve prisoners, among them two women, two former prostitutes. The rest are men who were prepared for slavery in Essos, some from the North, some from the Riverlands and even Dorne, and one prisoner is a Braavosian. Tough guys: apparently half of them were definitely soldiers. They can be recruited. And as for stuff and gold, enough to buy you a full suit of armour, and arm the whole lot of us, and use the change to spend a week in a brothel. Ha-ha-ha-ha.
Varick was right, there was plenty.
As for the prisoners, it should be noted that I talked to them and after that four joined me. They were warriors, not traders or craftsmen like the others.
Lari the Short-Handed was a Dornian, and although his hands were short, he said they were strong and good with knives and spears. A tanned, golden-eyed brown-haired man, that's what he was, and he was shorter than me by a head. He had been captured long ago and probably lost his uniform a little, his clothes were hanging on him.
Lesho Dardio was a summer man who had wandered the world for some time, but had been captured when he sailed on another ship as a mercenary. Good as an archer. Varik had competed with him and recognised that he might be an even better archer than he was. Lesho was a tall, sturdy dark-skinned man, though more mulatto than pure negro. His eyes were grey-green and his head was usually shaved bald.
Barry Asgen was a dark-haired, brown-eyed Braavosian, who was as good with a rapier as I was, and who looked to me something like the actor who had played Aramis the Musketeer in the new American Musketeers after the two thousandths. Though I accepted him into my ranks, I was cautious about him. He's a faceless man, and these are the kind of people you need to keep your ear to the ground with them. Though my gut was silent.
And the last new member of my company was Daren One-Eyed. Almost forty years old, a sullen man about two metres tall, with one left brown eye. The other was missing, he'd lost it in battle. He was frightening to look at, especially in the rags he was seen in, with his long beard and hair. A kind of lion that came out of the hold of this ship....
Anyway, I was glad of the addition, and soon enough we set sail under Harven's skilful leadership for Sigard. There, having docked, and paid our lodging at a small wharf, we began to settle down in the town. We rented an inn, and I sent Marik, Tom, and Lari Short-handed, a Dornishman, with horses for the carts, and then, after a little more thought, I added Lesho to them. Harvin and I began to divide all the goods, or rather began to divide the ship itself. The merchant felt that we didn't need it as such, so he decided to "buy" it, and even offered me a temporary contract to take it to Staromest, where his good partner was trading and where he would pay everything. I looked into his eyes and realised that even though he was a bargainer, he kept his word. In any case, I could always kill him in time, but a Dornian merchant is always useful as a friend. So after all the others arrived in Sigard, we began to prepare for departure to the more southern lands.
During this preparation I found out that now after the recent changes I have 15 men under my command, including even three women, that after trying themselves in battle, decided to connect their lives not with prostitution, but with war. Well, I've agreed to it. Though they're not likely to be any good, I've entrusted them to Gerda for training. Plus Aubrey and her sons and niece, so nineteen.
That's how we live. The rest of our "civilians" scattered around town looking for work or relatives.
A day after our arrival, when I had already taken care of the uniforms and weapons for my group, a messenger arrived from Lord Mallister, who invited me and Ser Brandon to visit him.
We met and talked. He was quite an interesting man and respected by many. Ser Brandon had spoken of him as "a true knight" even before we met. So it was not surprising that he was interested in the young knight who had destroyed two gangs in a short period of time and saved the innocent inhabitants of his lands. He even offered me to join his service as a lord knight. But I declined. I didn't want to be stuck here. But I expressed my refusal as "a desire to find my place in this world and to do exploits." Ser Brandon and Lord Mallister smiled, went into their memories, and understood me. But last of all, my master Sigard gave me a good sword and shield to "defend the innocent and punish the guilty".
And then it was our turn to move south, but not on foot or on horseback, but by sea ...
***
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