Chapter 35 (Revamped)
(Erlend Mudd, Ironman's Bay)
That battle had been an overwhelming victory on his flotilla's part, having captured one of the primary leaders of this war.
Erlend was in a pleasant mood as they continued sailing towards Harlaw.
He sat within his cabin, as Horton gave him the battle report, "We've captured 58 Ironmen alive and killed around 600. Unfortunately, we lost 56 men in the process."
"How many ships did we capture?"
"9 longships, the rest having either been sunk or burnt alongside the bodies of the dead," Horton said.
"Have those sent back to Seagard, Jason should be able to find a use for them."
"Of course your Majesty."
Horton bowed before leaving the cabin to convey his order.
Erlend relaxed in his chambers as he allowed his magic to run free again. His mind freed itself from the shackles of his physical body, moving through the sea.
It didn't take long for him to set his sights on a large Island in the distance.
Second only to Great Wyk in terms of size, it did cut a rather impressive view. Being the richest and most populous within this pirate haven.
Ruling over it was House Harlaws, one of the few lines that could contend with the Greyjoys, and even naysay them with a bit of support from the others. It was a shame they failed to do so this time.
Further in the distance, he could see a large castle, the first target of his takeover. Harlaw Hall is the ancient seat of House Harlaw and one of the five castles ruled by it and its various branches.
Ironically, this proved that they were wealthier than some of the Major houses within the rest of Westeros like the Glovers and the Templetons, the latter of whom Erlend had rewarded for their merits during his conquest by raising them from Landed Knights to Lords.
His plan was simple, they would first take the Harlaw Hall, cutting off Rodrik and Harras from being able to send support to their vassals and the other branches of the family.
They would then sweep and capture all the castles south of Harlaw Hall, leaving only Grey Garden and the Ten Towers.
Rodrik would then be given a choice, either surrender or have his whole line wiped out.
He didn't bother with Harras, knowing full well the young idiot would probably deny it and do something stupid that would lose Erlend an able administrator.
These rocks did not interest him, but they would be merged with the Riverlands regardless. A bit of revenge for all the times these fuckers invaded the Riverlands in the days long past.
Not to mention he didn't trust anyone in this rock heap not to fuck up and start something.
The most important question is, would the drowned god interfere?
…
Walking towards the cells within the lower decks of the ships, Erlend finally chose to visit his prisoner, a few hours away from his siege of Harlaw Hall.
The guards as instructed bowed their heads and left the cell, standing outside.
There in all his wretched glory lay an unconscious and pretty fucked up Victarion Greyjoy. The man had clearly seen better days, a shame this wasn't one of them.
Erlend banged the cell loudly, deciding to be nice and wake up the squid, and then kicked the fucker on his stomach for good measure, waking the pained and wheezing Greyjoy up real quick.
As soon as the Ironborn lay eyes on Erlend, he began to curse him, including his parents and ancestors. It was quite colorful, he would admit.
Erlend merely smiled at him, before casually removing his dagger and proceeding to stab the man's foot. Who then let out a cry of pain and a roar of anger.
"Are you done now?" He looked calmly at the bleeding squid.
Victarion, credit where credit was due, just glared at him, choosing to remain silent.
Sending a smirk at the now cripple, "Right, if you want this to be painless as possible, I want to know everything you have about that demented brother of yours Eucon, Euse… Eurok. Whatever his name was."
The self-proclaimed future King sent him a confused stare.
"You're probably wondering why I don't want info on that imbecile Balon," Erlend looked smug, before sending the dagger right into his other foot.
Predictably the schmuck let out another howl of pain.
"I don't need to explain shit to you… just tell my men what I want and you'll be fine..ish." He stated.
Banging at the cell door, Erlend waited for the guards to come back in. Ignoring the gasping Greyjoy.
As soon as they entered, they stood at attention, awaiting further orders from Erlend.
Looking at these guards, "Make sure he doesn't die before giving everything he knows on Euron. Otherwise, you lot will be joining his corpse in this cell, Understood?"
The torturers looked quite serious. "Understood your Majesty." They said at once.
"Good." was all he said in response, casually taking back the dagger that was still in the Ironborn's knee and forcing out another howl of pain from him before walking out of the cell to finally have his lunch.
They don't make Ironborn like they used to, a pity he had better things to do than torture this idiot.
…
(Harlaw Hall)
They had arrived at shore close to Harlaw Hall during the hour of the wolf.
It was dark as could be, save for the guardsmen that patrolled the shores, nothing a few arrows couldn't take care of.
His men made their way towards the castle, spotting a few longships that could be seen near the castle, standing at the docks and ready for their next raids he supposed.
Not wanting any of them to escape, he ordered his men to secure the docks.
What few men that could be found at this time, were either drunk or dead tired, making them easy to dispose of. Oh sure there were the rare alert ones, but that meant jackshit when you were outnumbered by far better-skilled warriors.
All the guards were silently killed, securing the shore and docks for them.
Making sure not to alert the ancient seat, a signal was sent, and soon after more boats could be seen coming towards them.
Ordering his men to put on the clothes of the dead guardsmen, they made their way into the Hall with time to spare.
As soon as they were in, the guards at the gate were shown no mercy as they were killed on the spot. Allowing the rest of his men into the keep with no issues. It wasn't long before the Harlaw Banners were taken down and in their place stood the proud Banners of his House.
…
Erlend sat within the Master's solar within the Old Hall. Sigfryd and his men had tried to put up a fight but were killed soon after. Erlend had been annoyed at their attempt at a last stand and had the old fool's whole family executed in response to his resistance.
He made it clear if they didn't surrender, they would all follow him to the grave.
'Erlend Mudd, Reuniting families since 289AC'
As he had ordered before, all the drowned priests nearby were killed, their temples destroyed and their thralls and salt wives freed.
To avoid potential resurrection bullshit, he had their bodies burnt and their ashes scattered. It was ridiculously common for most 'fictional' universes to have their enemies come back to life and honestly Erlend just didn't have time to deal with that.
'Surely the author had better things to do than use with the same enemy, over and over again.'
It also had the added effect of being insulting to their way of life. They definitely won't be joining their drowned god in his hall under the sea any time soon.
He could just imagine the so-called diety's face as he just gets tons of ashes upon ashes scattered all over his precious hall.
There was a knock on the door and Denys Strong entered. The aide looked dead tired on his feet, having been one of the men responsible for tearing down their temples.
Though calling them temples was a bit of a stretch, more like shacks the priests would occasionally inhabit as they moved about the isles and preached their ways.
"Your Majesty," he bowed, "All the drowned priests have been killed off. A few tried to hide among the thralls and salt wives, who didn't take kindly to that, and pointed them out to us."
"I see." Erlend paused for a second. "Have the treasury accounted for and the men prepared for the next battle as soon as possible. Those who have shown merit will be rewarded as per usual."
Denys nodded, before making his way out, letting Horton in while he was at it.
The aged Lord bowed his head, awaiting orders from Erlend, "From here you will move to take Harridan Hill, while I do the same with Stonetree. By the time Rodrik realizes something is off. Only Grey Garden and the Ten Towers should remain in his control. Blacktyde and Orkmont should hopefully be fully captured."
Horton nodded and swiftly left to make preparations.
'Duncan should be in the process of capturing Volmark and Tower of Glimmering, I wonder how Rodrik would feel knowing three of his castles have already been taken in a single day.'
…
The next few days would see a flurry of activity within the Isle of Harlaw.
Harlaw Hall and Volmark would be the first to fall, the former to Erlend, the latter to Duncan Strong.
Duncan had similarly managed to infiltrate the seat and made quick work of its inhabitants.
Both families that ruled their respective seats chose to resist and were wiped out, leaving not a single member of their families alive. The Volmarks, once a potential Great House, that vied for the Seastone chair after the fall of the Hoares, were now but words from parchment or tales told of the fate that awaited those that defied him.
It was a cruel but practical method that would do much to cow potential resistance to Erlend's hold over the Iron Islands.
The next few days would see the Tower of Glimmering, Stonetree, and Harridan Hill all captured. Both Hotho 'Humpback' and Boremund the 'Blue' would surrender after it became clear that they would not be able to resist. Whilst Lord Stonetree chose to resist, leading to the extinction of his House similar to his compatriots.
By the time it became clear to Rodrik Harlaw that most of the Isle had fallen, it was too late. Three Major families had been wiped out, with one of them being a branch of his House. Those who surrendered were imprisoned and placed under guard.
A large reason why it took so long for Rodrik to become aware, would be the fact that he'd instructed his men to shoot down any raven that tried to make its way out of the castles. Showing how vulnerable this form of communication could be.
As promised every drowned priest was killed, and the most devout of their followers would be quick to follow, their shacks of a temple destroyed and their bodies burnt with it, leaving not even ruins for any to mourn.
Erlend wanted to ensure not an ounce of worship towards the drowned god would remain. It certainly helped that a majority of the Isle's population were thralls and slaves. Making it far easier to get rid of the practice in comparison to that of the fire demon.
Speaking of faith, to his surprise the matter of choosing a father of the faithful remained contested. The most devout had divided themselves into three major factions and each one was blocking the other from getting their candidate to win the vote.
It got heated so much at one point that House Hightower had to step in, lest a few of the most devout choke their rivals to death.
Malora had mocked what she considered a farce, apparently, the original candidate that all the most devout had unanimously agreed to vote for previously, had been caught sleeping with the bastard son of one of the leading figures among the most devout.
His twelve-year-old bastard son. To say the man was almost killed on the spot would be putting it lightly. Leyton would likely have the man quietly disposed of sooner or later.
The good news was that one of his own Wardens had managed to get mixed up in all this, becoming one of the three candidates for the seat. The issue was, he loved to drink a bit too much and most would find it likelier to see him in a tavern rather than in a sept.
How a soldier of his ended up a septon, then a most devout in such a short period, Erlend would never know and frankly didn't want to know.
…
(Kevan Lannister, Casterly Rock)
A servant had come a few moments ago to inform him of the arrival of the Dornish and Reachmen hosts. Seven Save Him, they had apparently arrived at the same time. It was a small mercy that Stannis had arrived with his host earlier.
'Here's to hoping Oberyn hasn't killed Mace yet.'
Making his way to the gates of his ancestral home, he could already see his nephew and Sister awaiting their guest's arrival. It was a shame he was so small, Sixteen-name days and yet only reaching the height of those half his age.
Tyrion had become much more serious after he got word of Jaime's death. Sure he shed a few tears for Tywin, but that was as far as it went really. Not that Kevan could blame him. He loved his brother as much as one could, but the proud lion had undeniably put their House in jeopardy.
He himself narrowly escaped the 'Burning of King's Landing'.
It was only thanks to years of making friends among the Westerland lords, being the carrot to Tywin's stick that he was able to secure their position. Even then they still needed the Mudd King's guarantee to truly feel confident about holding onto their lands and authority.
House Lannister had numerous enemies, and Tywin was no longer there to shield them. The fact that he woke up to find out that the Branch families had attempted to incite a civil war of all things had hammered that particular point down.
Genna had discreetly disposed of the most troublesome ones, but he had no doubt the true masterminds behind it all were still at large.
Giving his nephew a gentle smile that did much to hide his anxiety. Aside from his deformity, Johanna's boy was a brilliant child. If only those outside of the main branch would stop sticking their heads in the sand and actually see it.
…
Oberyn and Mace arrived at the gates, surrounded by their bannermen. Mace puffed up at the sight of the welcoming party, whereas Oberyn merely smirked at them.
"Lord Tyrion," Oberyn spoke out loud, "It's a pleasure to see you again."
"Lord Lannister, good to see you." Mace Interrupted. "You have a marvelous home. It's no Highgarden though."
Kevan rolled his eyes at the overinflated Rose, it wasn't like Highgarden was his, to begin with. The dead Gardner's definitely would have something to say about that.
Choosing to ignore the backhanded compliment, Tyrion greeted them politely, "I'm sure you'll enjoy Casterly Rock, my Lords."
Tyrion turned towards Kevan. "Uncle Kevan if you would please." Kevan nodded in response and led the lords inside, whilst Genna and Tyrion headed back to the solar to deal with the paperwork.
Thankfully the fat lord hadn't come with his mother, no doubt the hag would have a lot to say about the state of his house. They could no longer be considered the most powerful House in Westeros, that honor unfortunately lay firmly with the Royal Family.
Still, they remained the wealthiest, their mines bringing in more gold than ever, he thought proudly as he guided the guests to their quarters.
This gave them a measure of security for the time being. It helped that neither Doran nor Olenna wanted to unite the Westerlands once again by providing them a suitable target to rally against. Allowing him and Genna much-needed breathing space to get their House back to its glory days.
Suspicions had been cast on what strictly Tywin had intended to do to the Targaryens during his entry into King's Landing, which placed pressure on the Lannisters. Thankfully, Aery's foolishness had prevented too many questions from being asked, and considering the fact that he chose to keep mum about it, well no one was going to know.
There were worries that the King knew about it, but chose not to pursue the matter. After all, he was the one that benefited the most out of anyways, so he doubted anything would come out of it.
The sacking of Lannisport had been both a blessing and a curse, on one hand, House Lannister had lost its fleet and a lot of gold in the process. On the other hand, Euron Greyjoy had unwittingly killed off a significant portion of the Branch families; those that survived had lost their source of wealth, making it so much easier for Tyrion to rule securely.
Unfortunately, it would take time and gold to rebuild everything. Not to mention the blow to their image and pride.
Genna had suggested they adopt the changes that King Erlend had implemented with Firmridge. She had pointed out that it might flatter the young Conqueror, while also having the benefit of avoiding the shit show that was King's Landing. Lannisport, while better than King's Landing, still had its flaws.
Something that could be prevented this time around, without the intervention of those hyenas.
…
Sometime later Kevan found himself seated to the right of his nephew and Genna to his left.
They were all gathered in a war council, headed by Stannis. Oberyn didn't seem to mind, far too busy seducing the maid servants to care about an already established plan.
Those present consisted of Himself and Tyrion from House Lannister with his Uncle Damon Marbrand and Lord Gawen Westerling accompanying them. Stannis Durrandon, Eldon Estermont, and Gullian Swann from the Stormlands, Oberyn Martell, Harmen Uller, and Quentyn Qorgyle from the Dorne, Mace Tyrell, Baelor Hightower and Randyll Tarly from the Reach.
Alongside them were a few decorated officers from the Banners representing the crown, their leader made it clear to all those present that they would not interfere unless necessary.
Wanting to get this over with, Stannis spoke first, "His Majesty has ordered us to take Great Wyk, Old Wyk, and Saltcliffe. As we speak, the Vale, Riverlands, and the North are now capturing Harlaw, Blacktyde, and Orkmont. We are to converge towards Pyke as soon as possible."
"Doesn't that mean we're behind schedule?" Oberyn asked.
"Yes." Was all he got from the Storm Lord.
"My lords, surely we'll be able to make quick work of these savages. Why my brother-in-law Paxter already repelled their fleet, I'm sure we'll be able to do away with them quite easily." Surprisingly the flower didn't take credit for it, he had enough sense not to piss off one of his key supporters, or his mother more likely.
Tarly for his part stared in contempt at Mace's head, no doubt still furious at how the fat oaf ignored the Dornish incursion and left the Marcher lords to fend for themselves. Baelor looked exasperated with his brother-in-law, considering how friendly Erlend was to the Hightowers, Kevan was still baffled as to why they didn't receive rulership over the Reach.
It was remarkable how his House was kept so close to each Royal House. First were the Gardners, then the Targaryens, and now the Mudds.
The smirk on the Martell prince's face turned sour as he thought of Dorne's experience with the Ironborn, "The attack on Sunspear was something none of us expected. They've never shown any interest in Dorne before." Quentyn admitted.
The most sensible lord among those sand dwellers, likely Doran wanted Qorgyle there to reign in Oberyn from doing anything stupid. It wasn't much of a secret of how unhappy Doran was with how easily Oberyn knelt.
Something he could use later on, or Tyrion once he comes of age. Arianna's hand was open for grabs after all.
"Lannisport wasn't their only target. Banefort and Fair Island didn't fare too well, it's a miracle that so many smallfolk survived their attack, previous experience with them I suppose." Damon said.
Tyrion didn't look happy at the mention of the other attacks. While he was far kinder than Tywin, he did take pride in House Lannister and anything that damaged that pride irked him. Something the child shared with his late father.
Mace looked curiously at Stannis, "What about the Stormlands?"
"Thanks to the Royal Fleet that regularly patrols the Narrow Sea, the attacks focused on the Stormlands and the Riverlands led by Aeron Greyjoy all failed, culminating in his death."
All those gathered stared at the Storm Lord as if he had grown a second head, the man looked unperturbed by the fact that he got off scot-free. The only ones that seemed to share his nonchalance were the officers and they looked bored with the whole thing.
Tarly, getting tired of the awkward silence, spoke up. "My lords" he began "We are sitting here doing nothing, while our King actively fights these barbarians. We have our orders, we should move immediately to fulfill them."
"Indeed, His Majesty was clear on what we should do. There's no need for this pointless discussion." Stannis supported Tarly's words. "Myself and Oberyn will take on Great Wyk. Tyrell will take Old Wyk and the Lannister will take Saltcliffe."
Standing up in protest, "Why is it you get the largest Island," Mace disagreed.
Baelor whispered a few words to his good brother's ears, whatever he said seemed to deflate any argument Tyrell might have had, who proceeded to clear his throat and sat down without further arguments.
Ignoring what just occurred, Stannis nodded respectfully toward the officers and left the chambers with his vassals in tow.
Oberyn shrugged, "I see no reason to object to this." With these words, everyone had their marching orders. Since both the assigned commanders had agreed to it, there was little they could do to contest it.
Kevan sighed, "At least I don't have to deal with the fat oaf." He mused.
Tyrion, while old enough to lead the men, would be in significant danger if he did so. Sure a few lords would complain of the 'cowardly' behavior of their liege, but most would keep their mouths shut.
Kevan had no interest in allowing Casterly Rock to fall in his niece's hand, lest she lead them all to ruin. So he and Tygett were put in charge of the men.
Then again, this would be a good way to get rid of the remnants of the branch family, he was sure they hungered for vengeance and glory. It was only expected of him to allow them the chance.
======
Note: Kevan isn't Tywin, but that doesn't mean he isn't as capable. This is the man that managed to fix Cersei's fuckups within the capital during his tenure as Regent. He was so capable that Vary's had to kill him to make sure his plans stayed in place. Initially, I was going to off him, but decided against it, Tyrion needs a solid paternal figure he can emulate and while Gerion and Tygett could have done that, they aren't as well connected and established as Kevan.
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