章 23: Siege of Deepwood Motte
"You ready, lad?" The Greatjon asked, looking down at the young Lord Stark who gripped the handle of his Valyrian steel blade anxiously. It was not surprising, he was young and about to enter his first battle, even so, Robb had named him the commander of the forces. Greatjon could understand why, having a Stark lead the men in defence of the North would certainly boost morale.
But he didn't think Jon was ready yet.
He had skill as a swordsman, more so than most in the army gathered. But he didn't know how to lead men, didn't know how to take command, or give orders. Understandable really, he was a bastard intent on joining the Nights Watch, learning to lead had never really been something he would have been taught.
Even so, it was better late than never.
"Aye, Lord Umber. I'm ready." Jon muttered, his eyes flickering across the old motte-and-bailey castle, his gaze looking upon the wooden palisades that surrounded it.
The estimated strength of the enemy was around a thousand men, Jon had come with twice that number, the remaining two thousand men marching south to meet with the fifteen hundred strong host commanded by Rodrik Cassel at Winterfell. Even so, despite outnumbering the enemy he was wary.
This was his first battle and according to the Greatjon, this battle would be a decisive victory. If they won here, they could reinvigorate northern morale and force those houses on the eastern shore to provide aid. Failure here could very well mean that they lose the North itself.
'No pressure.' He thought sardonically, looking behind him at the army gathered. He hadn't bothered with a horse, he was never really skilled at fighting on them, not that honour went to Robb. Jon was very much an infantryman, preferring to fight on his own two feet and had rarely lost a fight against Robb or Theon.
"Give the order, lad." Greatjon muttered, his eyes picking up movement from the Deepwood Motte indicating that the Ironborn had decided to prepare for battle instead of fleeing. It wasn't unsurprising and was something that many had wanted the Ironborn to do. Not only did it give them a chance to get revenge, but it also meant that they could weaken the Ironborns overall force.
"Charge!" Jon shouted and rushed forwards, gripping the shield he had been given in one hand tightly. Around him those that heard his cry rushed forwards with a battle cry, but it was the Greatjon who was the loudest.
"Kill the Ironborn fuckers!"
All two thousand men from the north rushed forwards raising their shields when they heard whistling of arrows. The Ironborn didn't have much in the way of archers, but those that they did have fired, no more than maybe a hundred descended upon them. Many were blocked by shields or missed, but some struck.
Men dropped to the ground with cries, but many from the Mountain clans just kept on charging even with arrows sticking out from their shoulders.
As they closed in on the wooden gate that was meant to keep them out, they saw it practically broken in. While the Ironborn had attempted to repair it, the damage done from their own assault on Deepwood Motte had weakened the castles structure as a whole.
"Hold here!" Greatjon ordered, the northern army coming to a stop and dropping to their knees and raising their shields to protect themselves from arrows. They could hear the jeering and insults from the Ironborn, but many ignored it. "Bring the bridge, let's take this castle by the morrow!"
The northern army cheered as a group of men carrying a bridge made from wood rushed across the field.
The Ironborn of course, turned their attention throwing rocks and firing arrows at the men carrying it. Many died, but for every Northman that died, someone was there, ready to take his place. In a matter of moments, the bridge had been placed down and pushed across the motte and rested against the partially destroyed gate.
"Bring down the gate!" Jon ordered and in response to his orders, men with axes and hammers rushed forwards and slammed into the gate, hacking, and hammering away at the broken wood.
It was not an easy task, the Ironborn thrusting spears and swords through the gaps in the wood and killing those battering away at it. But much like before, it was not enough, the gate eventually being brought down and with a cheer, the northern army poured in through the gates.
It had all been so quick and fast that the Ironborn were temporary caught off guard. But they rallied quickly and rushed to meet the northern army.
Jon quickly found himself in the mess that was a battle. His head whipping around each and every way as he watched the men of the North and Iron Islands clash in a bloody battle. Hearing a cry, he turned to see an Ironborn clutching an axe rushing towards him.
However, Ghost was there leaping through the air and biting down on the man's head who cried out in pain. The Direwolf chomped down hard the cries silencing before it bounded off in search of its next kill.
Jon barely had time to come with terms with what he saw before he was stuck in combat with an Ironborn warrior. Longclaw cutting through the air at great speeds as he parried the wild sword swings with his own masterful and well-trained swipes. Eventually, the man overextended, and Jon stepped forward grabbing the back of the man's neck and bringing the Ironborn towards him as he drove his blade into the man's stomach.
Pulling his blade free he turned around and slashed at the man behind him before once again looking around.
The battle was still raging on, he could see the Greatjon laughing madly as he swung his great sword in big sweeping swings that cut through men with ease. The Mountain clans and the berserkers rushed around, releasing howls like a wolf as they killed the Ironborn and Ghost bounded across the floor leaving a trail of dead bodies in his wake.
But despite this, the Ironborn were returning it just as well. For every Ironborn that fell a Northman fell as well.
Even with no real structure or discipline, they did not surrender. He could see some Ironborn being stabbed and still swinging until their bodies gave out on them.
It was madness.
"Push forwards!" He heard Owen Norrey cry as he and his men broke through the Ironborn line on the left finally twisting the tides of the battle. As determined as the Ironborn were, the men of the North were just as determined, and they had far more men than them.
"On me, we must break through the centre!" Jon cried, raising his sword as he rushed forwards. Around him the Northmen rallied, spurred on by the victory on the left they followed after Jon as they smashed into the Ironborn defensive line once more.
And the battle continued with no signs of stopping anytime soon.
クリエイターの想い 
Carrots123
Carrots123 Jon leads his first attack as leader of the Northern forces. Hope you all enjoyed this chapter, not much to wrtie about, but nonetheless, hope it was enjoyable all the same.
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