Bab 10: Chapter 10
The sun's bright rays touched John's eyes in a thin line, making him wake up. He opened his eyes and found himself in Daisy's arms. His head rested on the northerner's chest, and her arms held him tightly to her. Snow didn't particularly mind this state of affairs, but he made a note in his head that in a couple of years the situation should be the opposite.
- Hmm? - There was a questioning, exasperated sound as John carefully pulled himself out of the embrace.
- Good morning, beautiful," he touched the girl's open lips with his lips, and her face broke into a smile as soon as he pulled away.
- Come back to bed, it's still early.
- I promised to practice archery with Lyra and play with Lianna after breakfast. I have to go.
- Then get out of my sight, I want to sleep," the girl mumbled, then threw a pillow at John.
- All right, my lady," he smiled.
As soon as John closed the door, a childish girl's voice was heard:
- 'Mother wants to see you,' Leanna, the girl recently turned five, addressed him in a businesslike manner.
- Is it something important or can I run away? - Jon asked as he put the girl on his shoulders.
- "Either you come to her as soon as possible or heads will fly," she said.
- Well, then we must hurry to your Lady Mother," Jon replied and ran down the hallway to the main hall of the manor to the sound of Lianna's gleeful laughter.
Of all of Lady Mage's daughters, Leanna was the smallest, as if she wasn't a Mormont. Thin as a string, black-haired, the girl often reminded John of his favorite little sister, whom he hadn't seen in years. The physique of the youngest of Mage's daughters may not have been impressive, but her temper was the coolest. The little bear was already capable of putting just about anyone in their place.
In five or ten minutes John was already getting to the bottom of the problem. As it turned out, Lady Mage was not very eager to talk to the septons who had come from Staromest with a request (demand) to build a sept on the island. It's easier for her to take a mace and break a couple heads, but that could have some pretty bad consequences. "Jorah's been teaching you management, so prove yourself, wolf boy. Deal with it, and if you can't, my mace will talk to them," the woman grumbled.
Lady Mormont was not a pleasant conversationalist, the woman possessed traits that clearly did not set her up for pleasant conversation. Harmful, stubborn, irritable, and willful, Mage would obviously say too much. John was sure that if she'd been born in Tamriel, she would have been a Dunmer. Jorah had sailed for Lannisport and couldn't deal with the problem right now.
...
Jon walked through the streets of the town toward the harbor. He was accompanied by guardsmen and Alisana, he suspected that this was some kind of another test of his abilities. Snow took a quick glance around the town. Here and there, builders were arguing among themselves, craftsmen were discussing prices, and women were whispering quietly. The town was growing slowly but surely, and soon it would have a name. The main street that ran from the port to the manor house and then turned to the meadery was paved with stone to facilitate the transportation of honey to the port and goods from the port to the warehouses or barns.
The old houses were being rebuilt and some of them were already stone. The town itself evenly surrounded the homestead on all sides. Farms were being built on its outskirts. Dacey and John decided to try to organize a farm on the island where they would raise livestock. Skyrim, as a northern region with not the most fertile soil, had also long met its food needs with fishing and cattle. Maybe it will do some good here. There's not much choice, sheep or pigs.
Alisana elbowed John in the side, drawing his attention to what was happening nearby. A dozen meters away from them, the guards were politely explaining to the new arrivals that there was no need to pour the contents of the night pots out the windows, because there were sewers, so there was no need to pollute the streets. Snow smiled, remembering his time in the Legion. The soldiers often joked that the first thing that appeared in cities captured by the Empire was not a bureaucracy, but a sewer system. Indeed, over the existence of more than one Tamriel empire, there are many cities destroyed and rebuilt over the imperial sewers that still stand century after century and continue to serve the cities. Though what was on the island can be called a sewer with a big stretch, so, just a small system of drains for sewage.
Not far from the port were several forges, where the blacksmiths and their apprentices were busy making new armor and weapons for the Guards. Soon the procession reached the harbor, and at one wharf the septons were waiting for it, guarded by a few men at arms. Not mercenaries, but clearly not followers of the faith.
- Greetings, ministers of the faith. I have been informed that you have a matter that needs attention.
- Why have we not been escorted to the castle to discuss it? - John was asked by an older member of the Seven.
He was a man about fifty years old, incredibly fat, with crooked yellow teeth, small eyes, and large bald spots. He was much more richly dressed than the others, and from his manner of speech and facial expressions, it could be inferred that he clearly felt himself to be the master of the situation.
- Lady Mage has many important matters to attend to. But she recognizes the need to meet with you and has asked me to escort her.
- Are you the lord's son?
- No, my name is Jon Snow. I am his apprentice," Septon clenched his teeth, clearly not happy about his status and background. - So may I ask the reason for your arrival?
- The island is now inhabited by people from the mainland, many of them followers of the faith. Therefore, a sept must be built on the island.
- I'm sure Lady Mormont will be pleased to hear that the faith is going to build a sept on the island.
- This will be done by you so that the followers of the Seven will have a place to pray.
- Wandering septons come to the island, and they are the ones who cater to the needs of all the faithful. House Mormont doesn't have the money to build a septum, but no one can stop it from being built. So, if the church decides to fund it.
- Or maybe you're refusing because of your pagan gods. - the septon shouted at John.
- The Old Gods are the dominant religion of the north, that can't be changed. But there are worshippers of the Drowned God, the Goddess of the Waves, and even Rglor on the island. House Mormont does not fund these religions and cannot fund the building of a sept.
- You're oppressing the worshippers of the Seven!
- No, any deity can be prayed to on the island as long as there is peaceful coexistence with worshippers of other religions.
- The King will hear of this, you vile boy! And he will take action as a defender of the faith! And you will pay for your insolence! - I could feel the tension in the air. It seemed as if the guards and the faithful guards were about to draw their swords.
- The King rules the Seven Kingdoms and will protect their faith, and the faith of the north is the old gods. But you can write to him about our conversation. I'm sure the king will be glad to know how the son of his best friend, whose sister he was betrothed to and for whom he started the war, is doing.
Septon could say nothing, but opened his mouth like a beached fish. His face, however, was contorted with anger. He was about to say something, but a boy ran up to Alisana.
- My lady! - he exclaimed.
- What has happened?
- Wildlings, my lady.
***
The party loaded onto a ship and set sail from the island three hours later. Lord Jorah had sailed earlier on a ship called the Sorrow, it was the fastest and most maneuverable ship on the island. So the squad had to sail on a long ship called the Tough Mood, it was one of the fastest ships left in the harbor. A ship of forty pairs of oars could carry a relatively large war party of one hundred and eighty men to the mainland if necessary, without losing speed.
The war party consisted of sixty warriors. The best men and women on the island. They were clad in new armor, visually something between the officer's armor of the Storm Brothers and steel plate armor. The armor served its primary function well, it was very comfortable, relatively light and unrestrictive. The helmet, on the other hand, was different and resembled a bear's mouth in design, the islanders were simply delighted. The island's blacksmiths mostly only made it to rearm the Mormont Guards.
For weapons, the guardsmen had swords or axes and spears. For defense they had drop or round shields. Two dozen had crossbows and a quiver of bolts instead of spears and shields. John, Dacey, and Lyra were also in the troop. In addition to all of this, a couple of dogs were taken with them, in case there was a need to pick up the trail, and there would be. Not to forget the warrior with the Mormont banner. There was one, too, even if the banner was fixed on a pike, so that it would be useful in battle. Alisana stayed on the island with her daughter and, together with her mother, made preparations for possible surprises.
With a tailwind and maintaining current speed, they would arrive at the coast of Cape Sea Dragon before sunset. Snow frankly couldn't understand how the wildlings had gotten that far. But in any case, everything would be clear when they arrived.
Jon gave Daisy a birthday present, a month and a half away, but she could use it now. When she realized what her new mace was made of, she jumped up and down and threw herself into Snow's arms, hanging onto him. Strangely enough, he was able to hold the girl in the chainmail with ease. Lyra was about to speak up, but heard someone shout out:
- I see the shore! We'll be on the mainland within the hour!
...
The squad landed on the shore and headed toward the burned village. It was a couple hours' walk through the forest. They arrived there in the middle of the night, and since the night inspection would be of no use, the warriors rested for a few hours and at first light began to inspect the settlement.
The village was small, about ten houses, more like a large farm than a village. They lived here by harvesting wood suitable for shipbuilding. They subsisted mostly on what they found in the forest, be it game or berries. From what Dacey knew, fishermen from Darkwood or Bear Island often came here and traded fish.
The village was burned to the ground. All the inhabitants were killed, no one escaped alive. The women were raped before they died, and the men had their ears cut off. In addition to the corpses of the inhabitants, there were several bodies dressed in hides. Jon ordered the houses to be searched for food or money. Every village in Westeros had a sack of copper coins stashed somewhere.
- Fucking wildlings! - Daisy cursed.
- I don't think they're wildlings," Jon said quietly.
- Why not?
- We never found the money we stashed in the village. Maybe they hid it too well, but I'm surprised the raiders didn't take the food. It's the first thing to disappear during raids.
- The food is left behind, but the money the wildlings don't need is gone?
- Exactly.
- What about the ears?
- It's common to cut off one ear, not both. And it's usually the Moon Mountain tribes who do it. And wildlings who do it are usually cannibals. I'd rather believe the Highlanders were here than wildlings could make it this far south.
- Then who was it? - One of the soldiers asked.
- Someone who wants us to think it was wildlings. But that "someone" has never dealt with them himself. Hence these failed attempts to deceive us.
- Are you basing your conclusions on something else?
- Women.
- Women?
- If wildlings are interested in northern women, they're not usually raped, but taken with them so they don't have to kidnap another clan's wife.
- We should take a closer look at the bodies.
As it turned out, John's hunch was correct. One of the villagers' bodies had an arrowhead made of steel, not obsidian or bronze. The bodies in the skins turned out to be disguised villagers, and one of the dead villagers was probably a disguised raider. He had sword calluses, and the presumed wildlings had calluses peculiar to peasants.
Twenty minutes later, a squad of light cavalrymen numbering twenty rode to the outskirts of the village. On their shields was the silver fist of the Glovers. They had probably ridden along the coast and arrived here. The leader of the squad, noticing the warriors in the village, saddled his horse and gestured for his squad to halt. He was about sixteen years old, and from the look of him, he was clearly nervous.
- Identify yourselves! - He shouted nervously and put his hand on the hilt of his sword. Some of the riders followed suit, but the rest of them just sighed.
- Can't you see the black bear on the banner, asshole!? - Lyra shouted.
- We're from Bear Island, here to find the wildlings.
The squads aligned, and Jon quickly brought the newcomers up to speed.
- So you're bandits, then?
- Or mercenaries, pirates, smugglers, anything but wildlings.
- We should report to Lord Glover. There could be more than one gang.
- Go ahead, while we try to track and destroy the gang that did this. We need to sweep the coast and check the other villages on Sea Dragon Point.
The riders departed for the Dark Forest and the band of islanders split up. Jon, along with Dacey, Lyra, and the toughest of the warriors, moved deep into the forest, the dogs picking up the trail. The rest headed back to the ship to scour the shore and check the villages nearest the coast. Whoever had done this had to be dealt with. Quickly and brutally.
John's squad had been walking through the forest for two days with short breaks, they couldn't lose the trail. They slept a couple hours a night and continued on their way. On the third day they came to another village. The situation in it was exactly the same as in the first one. Judging by the tracks, the gang was thirty men in number and was less than a day ahead of them. The islanders followed the trail until darkness fell. The glow of a campfire was visible in the night.
The next morning the warriors spent resting. The gang could be overtaken in one crossing, but their numbers were unknown, so it was better to do it at night. The warriors sat and talked quietly among themselves, some of them chewing on jerky. Jon was talking to the warriors and Dacey. Claw had returned from scouting. A raven perched on Jon's shoulder and cawed loudly.
- They're in the ruins," Jon said.
- According to the maps, there shouldn't be ruins anywhere around here.
- It's probably an old fortress from the Age of Heroes. It's overgrown with moss and trees, and you can't tell it from the forest. There's about a dozen tents. There's about six dozen men in the gang.
- Twice as many as us," one of the soldiers muttered.
- We'll attack at night. We'll surround the ruins so no one can escape. We'll need a few men alive for interrogation.
- Their sentries won't let us get too close without being seen.
- Claw and I'll take care of them," the raven cawed approvingly.
- Who are we dealing with?
- Bandit mercenaries, three different groups, roughly equal in numbers. There are a dozen captured women in the camp, some of them wildlings.
- Maybe we should send your bird with a letter and wait for help.
- In the meantime, more troops might arrive or the mercenaries might move, and we'd lose time. We must act tonight or not act at all.
- We'll start as soon as they're asleep," Dacey ordered.
...
The party moved toward the camp toward evening. When they were close to the ruins where the bandits had settled, John and his raven stepped forward and disappeared into the foliage. He was only a few dozen meters away, but the party had already lost sight of him, so they could only wait for him to return and signal. There was no one besides John to send to eliminate the sentries. Warriors in heavy armor would make too much noise.
"Footstep Muffling and Invisibility allowed him to get close to the first sentry and slice his throat open with one sharp dagger thrust. He never realized what he had died of. In fact, he didn't even see his killer. The bandits were a disappointment. There were only six men guarding the camp, and the bandits themselves, judging by the sounds, were celebrating something. They could have been slaughtered by a poorly trained Dark Brotherhood recruit alone in less than a night. Forty minutes later, the sentries were finished. Claw flew back toward his own to signal.
The warriors ran from tree to tree, trying not to make any noise. Every rustle, every broken branch or clank of armor could give them away, they didn't know the brigands were too drunk yet. Lyra ran out from behind a tree and rushed to a new hiding place. Behind a rock she found the body of a sentry with his throat cut open. She almost screamed in surprise, but the warrior who followed her covered her mouth with his palm.
After a while the camp was surrounded. The ruins really didn't look much different from the rest of the forest, and the stone floor of the camp and a few pieces of fortress walls were the only clues that there had been a building here before. The islanders hid behind the trees and cocked their crossbows, aiming them at the tents. The others were preparing for hand-to-hand combat. The only thing left to do was to wait for John, who was wielding one of the tents, or the others who had made their way into the camp, to be discovered.
At that time a mercenary came out of the tent in the center of the camp, he quietly walked past his companions sitting around the fire to the edge of the camp to go to the bathroom. The man noticed he had stepped into something wet, he looked back and realized he had stepped on blood pouring out of a nearby tent. A panicked scream escaped his mouth moments before his neck was stabbed through with the dagger. There was a distinctive gurgle, and the mercenary slumped to the ground, struggling to stop the blood. He was no longer alive, but he still managed to report the attack.
Jon cursed softly and unsheathed his ebony blade. The tents in the camp faltered and shouts and cursing were heard. The young man walked toward the nearest uncleared one. A panicked old man ran out of it, clearly not expecting to see John in front of him. A sword swing and a vertical chopping blow on his right shoulder cut the old man diagonally in half from shoulder to waist. The razor-sharp sword combined with his incredible physical strength left the old man no chance.
Mercenaries started running out of the other tents, some of them in their undergarments. Crossbow bolts stabbed into the first of them. Snow heard Dacey's shout calling for an attack. A formation of five islanders led by her ran toward the center of the camp, killing everyone in their path. Closer to the center, a few mercenaries tried to offer organized resistance. With a single strike of her ebony mace, Dacey shattered the shield of a mercenary, breaking his arm in the process. The girl seemed surprised by the power of her own weapon, but there was no time to be distracted.
- Stay here! - shouted Dacey.
- Stay here! - shouts were heard throughout the camp.
After a couple of minutes, the mercenaries had lost their numerical advantage, and after another five minutes, the survivors surrendered. The drunken, half-asleep mercenaries didn't stand a chance against the trained, battle-hardened guardsmen.
The Guardsmen began to inspect the camp. The wounded were tended to, the surviving mercenaries were gathered in one place - there were seven of them. The dead were stacked separately; later they would have to talk to the captured wildling women, but for now they would have to interrogate the prisoners. The Guardsmen dragged the first prisoner into one of the tents and bowed and came out. Inside, besides him, was Jon along with Dacey.
- Wolfie, do you know how to conduct an interrogation?
- Only accelerated.
- How's that?
- You'll see.
John crouched down beside the bound prisoner and looked at him and asked:
- For what purpose did you attack villages?
- Go to hell! - The mercenary spat in John's face.
The next moment the dagger plunged into the mercenary's leg, piercing the bone. He couldn't hold back a cry of pain, his eyes filled with horror and his insolence was gone. John slowly twisted the blade of the dagger without removing it from his leg, bringing more and more pain with each passing moment. He then took the dagger out and placed his palm against the wound and began to slowly heal it. After a minute it was completely healed and the bone had fused. Before the mercenary could utter a word, the dagger pierced his leg again in the same place. The mercenary literally squealed.
- I can do this all day, but I'm sure you'll be begging me to die after only an hour. So let you answer my questions and I won't hurt you anymore. Agreed? - The mercenary nodded nervously.
- What was your purpose in attacking the villages?
- We were hired to distract the Northmen in the bay and have ships patrol the coast instead of guarding merchant ships.
- How many troops are on the Cape?
- Three, all gathered here, we're supposed to wait two more days and move to the west coast of the Cape.
- Any other squads doing the same thing?
- Four more should be doing the same thing on the coast near the North Mountains.
- Why pretend to be wildlings?
- The employer thought the northern lords would get angry and look for raiders near the lands of Dar.
- Who hired you?
- A wealthy sailor. Either an ironborn or a pirate from the Steps. I've never seen him, and I don't know his name.
- Where are the prisoners from?
- Some from the surrounding villages, some given to me by their employer with wildling clothing as a reward.
- What was waiting for you on the west coast of the Cape?
- My employer was to arrive and pay the reward.
Jon interrogated him for another dozen minutes. The captive answered all the questions and described the meeting place in detail. Once John had everything he needed to know, he slit his throat. He didn't want a man who knew he was a sorcerer. At least not one he didn't trust. The second prisoner, questioned similarly, confirmed the first and repeated his fate.
John and Dacey left the tent and headed towards the rest of the mercenaries, they had heard enough. Kneeling before them were the bound criminals. Mormont guardsmen lined up behind them.
- In the name of King Robert Baratheon, first of that name, Lord of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, defender of faith and state. You are condemned to death! - Dacey pronounced the sentence and drew her sword along with the guardsmen.
Five heads rolled on the ground. The islanders couldn't go to meet their employer if they had to look after prisoners, peasants, and wildlings at the same time. Sending them under escort was also rather risky, and the mercenaries were in any case awaiting the scourge. Snow sent a raven with a letter to the Dark Forest. The squad was to meet with their employer. Perhaps the Northerners could enlist the help of the wildling spearwomen: everyone wanted revenge. But they had yet to be spoken to.
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Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
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-- Power
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