章 252: 5
280AC – Part III
Coming home felt great.
It didn't matter that the circumstances would not allow me to actually enjoy the arrival or that I would be gone again before I could do more than say hello and take care of whatever could be done within a few hours. It just felt great to be home. Even in my old life I had always felt best on my couch, not taking a vacation in some far off lands or just plain travelling just for the sake of travelling. Home had always been the place I felt best and most relaxed.
And I badly needed that right now.
Jasana smiled at me with little Nathan in her arms as we rode through the opened gate of my castle, my wife obviously being very happy to see me. "Husband, you seem to be a little ahead of the northern host if my information is accurate.", she greets me wryly before handing over the fussing infant the moment I leave the saddle.
Juggling the squirming child I smile softly at her but fail to hide my exhaustion. "First Lord Glover and now Lord Stark see my role in rescuing northern homes before I can get around to burning down southern ones. I cannot say that I can fault the reasoning." She blinks at my somewhat ironic comeback before waving me to follow her, nose twitching as she moves past me. "You need a bath Milord, allow me to...help you.", she voices before walking ahead, hips swaying. Blinking for a moment I hand Nathan to his nurse in a hurry before all but sprinting after my wife. Half a year has been a long time.
Two hours later we are sitting in my solar, enjoying a glass of imported wine while I shuffled through the letters piling on my desk. Much – nearly everything truth to be told – I sorted to the side to be dealt with by my wife at her leisure. And even those I really should handle myself, I place on a smaller pile for her to work through if I do not return from my next task in time to take care of it myself. I simply did not have the time to do it myself just now, having to leave the very next day if I wanted to have any chance of catching the ironborn before they disappeared to who knows where.
Jasana had been very much unhappy after I told her of my new quest after we had been very thoroughly...cleaned. She of course understood the need and that I could not refuse the task with any chance of success but it did not leave her any happier for it. "When will you be leaving?", she inquired after watching me sorting through the letters for a few minutes, taking sallow sips of wine every now and then.
"A little after first light, if it can be arranged.", I reply tiredly, leaning back in my wooden chair. "On the way to the castle I ordered Harren to ready every able bodied man and muster them in the castle tomorrow at dawn. He will also take care of procuring the needed supplies. Wyndal will of course do his part."
"You will be taking a lot of men, some which only just returned.", she points out quietly, for me to grimace and nod. Now again I am reminded that my wife for all her twenty years and lacking in what I would call a modern education is really a sharp one. Even if not as book learned as some other nobles she had a wily sort of intelligence I really learned to appreciate. I also learned to listen if she argued for or against some of my ideas because in nine out of ten cases she – much to my indignation – proved to be right. At least I got some wins in every now and then, my fragile ego would not have survived otherwise.
"Aye. I lost a lot of men hunting the wildlings and those that survived will be ill at ease leaving again this soon after returning. I would love to see them stay but I need them. The new recruits are yet untested and half trained at best, they will need the spine of the warriors already blooded."
I smile at her and raise my glass in a toast.
"Thanks to you I will be able to field a lot more men than I feared. Well done with the recruiting. Well done indeed."
She just smiles with no little satisfaction and leans back in her chair as well like a cat that caught the canary, a comfortable silence settling over the room. Jasana had over the months of my absence expanded the men at arms by a further hundred men with an additional fifty archers being trained as well. The incurred cost in material and time had been immense but her foresight would pay for itself now. Without the recent windfall, the ironborn attack and the following sale of one ship and the gathered loot we would not have been able to afford it. Even now it would be shaky and only really work out if I got some killed in the fighting, otherwise I would be forced to let some go before long as my funds dried out. But for now I found myself with more men under arms than the other three minor lords under Lord Glover could call up taken together. This would provoke some interesting reactions in the future, I am sure.
Jasanas reason for the frankly ridiculous expansion had been that she expected the war to last a while and that I would need reinforcements and replacements at some point. Additionally she had taken great care to invite the captains of the merchant ships that stopped at Rytherstone for dinner, always asking for news as she `was dreadfully bored` with her husband absent. I expected that some would have tried to seduce her because of this if not for the always present guards. As it was all but one had been perfectly well behaved and told her much of what was happening in the wider world, causing her to prepare at the best of her ability in consequence.
The Riverlands had all but descended into civil war with the Tully's overlordship being shaky at best as a third of their bannerman declared for the dragons. There had been great numbers of smallfolk fleeing in all directions to avoid the fighting as their fertile fields got trampled beneath armoured boots. My wife had actually offered the captains to fork over one copper for each smallfolk refugee that they safely ferried from the Riverlands (or somewhere else) to Rytherstone. A small incentive for sure but taken together with what the smallfolk likely was willing to fork over to get the fuck away from the war this might lead to a lot of immigrants in a hurry. Not yet though as the captains that had gotten the offer would only have arrived in the Riverlands a few weeks past. The first returns, if there turned out to be any, would still be a few weeks away.
The Crownlands were as much at war as the Riverlands but had mostly stayed true to the ruling family. As the fighting moved further south by the month the different towns and smaller settlements had been coming under fire a lot more with thousands of young crownlanders dying to slow down the rebellion's advance. Kings Landing remained as it always had been, a stinking morass of corruption where the greatly expanded goldcloaks had their hands full to keep the lid on things. It was a boiling cauldron of discontent even the slightest spark could set off in a hurry.
The Westerlands remained quiet, not jumping in one direction or the other. The king had burned half a dozen courtiers at the `non-action` of his old friend Tywin, or so it has been said. I would not be surprised if it actually turned out to be true. Considering what happened everywhere else this actually made the Westerlands one of the few safe heavens left on a continent heaving in the throes of war.
The Reach and the Stormlands were ripping at each other at the best of their ability. While Mace Tyrell besieged the ancestral seat of the Baratheons the other Stormlords having stayed behind wrecked bloody havoc on their supply lines. Many might have stayed neutral in the current struggle but just as many found themselves unable to tolerate an invasion force close to their homes, something the Reachers had gotten painfully familiar with by now.
Dorne had sent out its spears to support the king even though it had been done with great delay and even greater reluctance. The captains said that rumors stated that only the Martell hostages held in Kings Landing had forced them to move at all, the warriors likely to have stayed at home otherwise. Should Elia and her children manage to leave the capital in whatever fashion then all bets would be off.
I had been very much amused and not a little intrigued by the fact that Jasana had set up a very rudimentary spy network in my absence. It was of course something I encouraged her to continue at the best of her ability, maybe even offering bounties for particularly juicy bits of information. But that had only been a suggestion, I would leave this in her capable hands as I had little talent to play in shadows. I was more the `hit it in the face` or with me being an archer `shot it in the face` kind of guy.
To sum it up, in addition to the men I had left at home my wife's precautions left me with a little less than three hundred men in total I could call up in theory. I would be taking all but fifty of them with me on my hunt. The additional men had also helped a great deal in keeping the peace, which had turned shaky after my departure as more and more immigrants followed my direct and indirect incentives and arrived in the north. The three day course I had them attend at arrival took care of the greatest misunderstandings that could crop up between northmen and southerners but even so there was a certain sort of tension between the two groups. Likely this would be something that only time would correct and allow everyone to integrate into a greater whole. Nearly a thousand men, women and children had arrived at Rytherport from the south and joined the smallfolk sworn to my banner, many more than I had expected. Jasana had handled the numbers well and scattered them through my lands, with only some remaining to be settled in the steadily growing port city. The additional numbers had been a great part of the reason why she managed to expand the fighting force to the level she had.
In addition she had managed to procure a second ship, a small cog, from Seaguard at a ridiculously low price. The captain had actually tried to woo my wife to the point where the guards had to step in. The ship's owner, a minor noble hailing from the Riverlander city had been all too glad to gloss over the faux pax by selling the ship at a painfully (for him) low sum. The captain had taken the black over being returned to his employer after he had sobered up enough to understand what he had done. This gave me the creeps and did not shine a very nice light on the noble in question. I really would have to ask Jasana for the guy's name when I got the chance next.
Together with the equipment of my new soldiers and the building projects I had spotted at my approach this had again almost broken the bank, with maybe a hundred dragons remaining in copper and silver pieces. This was still more than my father ever had managed to gather, mind you. Still, for me it felt like a pretty thin buffer considering everything I wanted to do in the future.
For now we would have to stop the expansion of the fighting force, only replacing those that were sure to die on my next trip after returning and repairing any failing equipment. Maybe not even that as I really could not afford to field as many men as I currently did for any reasonable amount of time. My economy would first have to grow some before being able to support a standing force of three hundred soldiers. Anything else – additional building projects most of all – would just not be economically feasible for now. Thank god the trading continued to turn in a nice profit even though it only arrived every now and then as my ships returned to their home port or foreign traders arrived.
By now Rytherport had turned into a more or less well known supplier of fur in raw and worked form, the southern ladies especially loving the soft and warm clothes my smallfolk could create. Next to the successful hunters some enterprising souls had taken to setting up rabbit, ferret and fox farms with the animals being bred, slaughtered and skinned with nearly industrial efficiency. Contrary to some processes in my old world nothing was wasted and the meat, for example, often found itself being part of the stew offered in one of the local taverns. Other wares such as salt, herbs, timber, arrows or salted fish were traded as well but far less profitable than the fur trade. Docking fees were extremely low – another incentive to use my port – and earned me next to no profit. This would of course in time once I was well established but I did not expect to earn any money with it for years to come.
Word of mouth moved at surprisingly fast speeds and because of that foreign traders like those two ships in my harbor had started showing up semi-regularly. More often than not they had some immigrants on board as well, helping me in more ways than one. Thankfully I had also gained a lot of clansmen from the mountains, Jasanas family and the other clans being only too glad to send along those mouths they would not be able to feed come winter. Another five hundred souls had joined me that way, raising the number of smallfolk in my domain with a speed that frankly scared me a little. Taking together with the other emigrants and the peasants I had brought along myself I was sitting on top of a powder keg of different groups. To keep the lid on things and actually turn it to my advantage as I intended would require some careful handling...which I would have to leave to my wife and what few men I could leave behind. Becoming a victim to my own success wasn't really something I wanted to be known for.
I wince as I think about it but cannot change the circumstances. The "rouge" ironborn had an unknown number of men and ships available, something I would have to counter at the best of my ability. This of course meant that I would have to take the maximum of forces with me. I would leave with a hundred riders the next morning, forty of those being archers with the rest being men at arms. The other 150 men accompanying me would board my two ships and follow us on water, hugging the coast all the while. I intended to ride north hard and fast until I found the meeting point – a broken tower on a steep cliff – and set up an ambush there. The ships would ferry the men and land them out of sight somewhere before sailing a few miles away and waiting for my signal. Only my single longship could pass as a warship and I had little motivation of actually risking it, so I would very much try to avoid it and fight with the forces I have on land after luring the reavers there...somehow. We would see how that worked out.
"I had hoped you had returned to stay.", Jasana sighs, looking a little lost. "Nathan will soon take his first steps and I would have you at home to see it."
Her words rip me out of my thoughts and I smile tiredly at my wife. "I will try to be home before that day and be there to see it. He is yet small and I expect him to crawl for a few months. The ironborn better not try to stop me from returning in time."
She chuckles slightly before standing up with an inviting smile. "Let us retire for the day, husband. We are granted little time and should make the most of it."
"Yes my wife, let's", I agreed readily and allowed myself to be led away.
The next morning finds me well rested but melancholic as I mount my warhorse, the trusty animal snorting with some annoyance at the extra weight. I would have preferred to stay at home but once again duty was calling and once again I would do my best to survive it. It was moments like this I missed my old life the most. No, not when I lamented the absence of toilet paper or readily available tooth brushes. No, it was times like these when I moved yet again in the direction of potential deadly dangers that I missed the oftentimes boring but very much safe life I had lived before. Security made one complacent but it also made one enjoy something that was only missed once absent. Strange how I become philosophical at the most interesting of moments I muse silently before waving Jasana and little Nathan goodbye and dig my heels into the steed's sides.
The warhorse starts moving slowly, the hundred men I had chosen to accompany me on land following behind me. As we pass the large and only half restored gatehouse I take a deep breath, trying to shake off at least part of the tension I was feeling. All told I had gotten what I wished, not being forced to fight in the south in great battles I could not influence. Here I would be the smith of my own luck. On the other hand I would also have no one but myself to give the blame to should I fuck up.
Not that it would be more than a footnote in history, all things considered I mentally voice, a small chuckle escaping me as I shake my head wryly. Some of the messages that had been waiting for me in my solar had been tidings of the greater world and it seems that everything was still more or less as I remembered it, Jasanas information only confirming it. Not that I remembered all that much of the books other than the rough succession of events and the greater story points. The fighting had – as expected – turned the riverlands into an absolute quagmire of conflicting interests and warring parties. More so as external forces from all seven kingdoms rode roughshod over the fertile fields, leaving many a burned hamlet and shattered existence behind. Stony Sept had long since been fought over and fallen, Robert Baratheon escaping as he did in the books. If everything stayed on the path I knew then I expected the battle of the trident to happen within the next six month, the war ending not much later with the fall of Kings Landing. This would leave me with nearly a year's worth of time. I would have to protect the northern coast to the best of my ability before the returning lords would be able to take off some of the load. Not that Lord Stark had specified an 'end date' to my ordered duty but I hoped that this had only been an oversight.
Surely he could not expect me to take over the coastal protection of half the continent, right? Right?
By now I had grown accustomed to riding and did not suffer from riding sores as I had in the beginning of the muster more than half a year ago. Thinking back on it I sadly came to the conclusion that the times I had slept in a bed in these months could be counted on one hand with fingers being left over. While I had enjoyed camping in my old life this just was just so far beyond the point of enjoyable that it wasn't funny any more, if it ever had been. Some of my men, mostly the newer recruits, were now enjoying the sores as well but they endured. Even if they hadn't I could not have slowed down, time pressing as it was.
We followed the coastline for two weeks and made absolutely fantastic progress, which surprised me greatly even if it should not have. The beaches of the bay of ice were mostly made of hard packed sand and tiny stones, making it an almost ideal riding ground. We made no less than thirty miles a day without straining our horses too much. Each evening we lit a small signal fire, always finding my ships with the other men anchored in sight the next morning before we started up the chase again. Over the days we lost twenty horses and three men to accidents. The recruits were often inexperienced with their steeds and it showed, horses stumbling over hidden holes the riders had not spotted in time and falling whenever the balance could not be recovered in time. With the frankly brutal pace I had been setting we had no use for a horse with a broken ankle and had to put them out of their misery every time. We ate well those days, sparing our supplies where we could. The men – as long as they had not been killed by the fall as it happened three times – were gathered up by the ships and would spend the rest of the journey being seasick.
Fourteen days and a good four hundred miles later we finally reached the collapsed tower the Thenn were set to meet with the ironborn, nearly two weeks too early. I was greatly pleased by this and allowed my exhausted horse to slowly come to a stop, my men gathering around me as I gazed at the fortification overlooking the bay of ice. I had asked Wyndal who the tower had belonged to in times past before leaving Rytherstone but he had been unable to tell, not being focused on history as much as on the healing arts. I suspected that it had either belonged to one of the extinct houses from before the unification under the Starks of Winterfell or been a simple watchtower from the time the north still had a fleet to protect its shores.
Either way it didn't really matter for now as I had been handed the greatest gift of all, time.
"Half of you scout the surrounding forest. Find a good spot for a camp where we can keep an eye on the sea while being out of sight! Take care to look for our wayward Thenn as well! I suspect they would not have come here as they have nothing anymore to trade for passage with. They will have gone straight north and climbed the wall again but be careful, I have known myself to be wrong in the past!" I commanded them and turned to the other half. "Ten of you dismount and climb up the tower. Gather firewood beforehand and build a pyre at the highest point you can reach. The signal the reavers are waiting for is a small lighthouse, we will have to prepare it should they arrive earlier than anticipated. Ten more ride back the way we have come and signal the ships as soon as you spot them! They are to land the men and turn back a day's journey in the direction of Rytherport. Any boats they have are to be moved to our camp! We might need them yet."
Twenty more men left, leaving me with twenty warriors wearing my colours. "What will we be doing, Milord?", Wallace finally asks calmly from his position to my right, Shale sitting quietly in his saddle on my other side.
"Why, we will search the tower from top to bottom of course!", I state cheerfully and dig my heels in the sides of my warhorse, ignoring the long suffering sigh audible from behind me. This was the first chance I had at dungeon crawling – sort of – and my inner child would never forgive me if I let it pass by. The near manic grin I was showing seemed to scare some of the newer recruits but I could care less. I would wring at least some fun out of this mission, come hell or high water!
The tower turned out to be much larger than we first had thought, the ruins covering much of the steep cliff the construction had been placed on. The men I had searching quickly found the symbol of a snowflake carved in one of the bigger stones at the base of the tower, finally giving me an indication of whom the fortification had belonged to. As far as I knew that symbol had belonged to House Frost, one of the northern houses that had been subjugated by the Starks centuries ago and long since gone extinct. It seems I would have no contesters should I actually find something in the ruined castle, for it actually was a castle. The tower might be the only construction still standing but the more I and my men shifted through the rubble the more it became apparent that it had been part of a much larger fortification.
For three days we shifted through the rubble, driven on by my almost childlike enthusiasm and only stopped as the footsoldiers came in sight with the boats being dragged along by strong backs. Sad to have found nothing, I was just about to move to greet my arriving men as one of the youths that had been shifting through the rubble at the base of the still standing tower ran up to my side, skidding to a stop and nearly colliding with me in his haste.
"Milord, we found something!", he breathes before turning around and heading to the tower with me right at his heels. They had indeed unearthed something I mused as I arrived, half a dozen men heaving heavy stones from a passage deeper into the tower that had been blocked by rubble at some time in the past.
"Torches!", I order as I gaze into the dark corridor leading into the earth that becomes ever more visible with each stone that is removed. The torches arrive just in time for the last rubble to be cleared from the entrance and I am the first in the corridor as soon as it can be lit. Was my behaviour irrational and very much dangerous to my person? Yes, very much so. Still, I couldn't help myself and ignored the protests of my sworn swords as I moved deeper into the corridor.
Each step left me to descend deeper into the earth, the smell of mould becoming nearly overpowering. Moving slowly and carefully I noticed the rotten evidence of tapestries and shelves at the sides of the corridor, which turned a little to the left not half a dozen meters in front of me. Whatever may have been stored in the wooden constructions had long since capitulated against the rigours of time and the rough and wet climate right next to the Bay of Ice.
Turning the corner I am confronted with a door of wood that had all but rotted into nothingness. It being present at all told me that it had to have been exceptionally sturdy at the time of its construction, maybe even made of ironwood or weirwood. As it was a simple and gentle push that caused it to fall to pieces between my fingers, all but disintegrating into rotten fragments. I shrug and kick the splinters to the side before moving into the room that had been behind the door.
There I stop for a long moment as I gaze into the room and the items the flickering light of my torches revealed to me. A chuckle that turns into elated laughter escapes me a moment later, my men that had followed behind me taking a few steps back at my behaviour. I did not explain myself as I moved into the room, gazing at the small piles of gold and silver that had at some point been stored in wooden chests, which had long since disappeared. I estimated there to be at least a few thousand dragons or its older counterpart being present in total coin alone but that wasn't the real price. No, far from it. Moving to the middle I gaze upon a small pile of items, the black glittering of obsidian reflecting eerily in the torchlight illuminating the room. A big pile of arrowheads – maybe two hundred – had been placed right next to half a dozen daggers of the same material, the glittering and wickedly sharp blades having endured the trails of time without even the smallest sign. The handles and crossguards had long since disappeared but the blades itself remained in fine condition.
While the brittle stone would not be of any use against human opponents wearing steel armour, it would be a great help once the second long night started. The arrowheads would also be greatly useful some decades in the future, if I lived as long. For now the discovered riches would help most of all as I now had the funds to invest in a lot of things that would more than pay for themselves in the future. Still crackling madly I returned above ground, the sword gripped carefully in my hands as my men gathered the other items found in the hidden vault, for it could be nothing else.
My good mood lasted for days even though we were hard at work preparing for the ironborn that were set to arrive sooner rather than later. As it turned out luck had the tendency to strike at least twice in a row as I woke the next day only for my scouts to herd two dozen Thenn into the camp, the wildlings exhausted look telling me that they likely were the survivors of the skirmishing that had escaped north. They had obviously been smart enough not to fight my warriors and surrendered as soon as they had been spotted. With them came fifty northern smallfolk, the Thenn having 'acquired' them on their way north to replace the payment offered to the ironborn. By the looks of the rescued northerners – a mix of men, women and children – kept sending the raiders their treatment had not been gentle.
For weeks I had been thinking hard about a way to get the Ironborn to commit enough of their forces on land so that I could destroy them on my chosen ground instead of having to brave a naval assault of some sort. Looking at the dishevelled Thenn I feel a near manic grin starting to spread across my face for the second time in as many days.
Now I had the bait, all that was left was to sweeten it some and see if someone would bite.
My crackling laugh seemed to scare some of my men and it definitely put the fear of everything unholy in the captured wildlings. I didn't quite care, feeling that luck seemed to be on my side for once. Glancing at Wallace I calmed myself, smirking at the man who had taken to squirming in place at my expression.
"You will need a new haircut, my friend.", I grin at him and turn to the Thenn, my face turning cold as Wallace blinks at me in confusion behind me.
"Who leads you, clansman?", I ask semi formally and quickly get my answer as one of the wildlings, a youth of no more than twenty years steps forward with the bravery of the damned.
"I do.", he states, trying to appear calm even though I could easily see the panic barely hidden beneath his features.
"Today is your lucky day it seems.", I state and wave at the dozens of men surrounding us. "As you can see I could easily have you executed and by all the deeds you have done it is what should be done...but I will not...if you do as I say."
I ignore the outrage on the faces of the watching smallfolk, knowing that they would feel more than a little slighted at my perceived mercy. My men kept them from voicing their discontent and I quickly continued to speak, hoping to avoid being attacked in my sleep as I I closed my eyes next. The Thenn had not yet answered in any way, too surprised at the sudden development to jump one way or another.
"You made an agreement with the ironborn to ferry you back north and as you might suspect I cannot allow this, nor can the north. Now...neither I nor my men are sailors, so we will have to draw them on land to face them on a ground of my choosing, not the other way around. You will speak to them once they arrive and get them to commit their forces on land – I do not care how, as long the presence of me and my men will not be revealed before it is too late – where I will put an end to them. You will fight with us that day and those of you that survive will be granted freedom to move back north as long as you swear an oath not to harm other northmen on your journey home."
The youth keeps his silence for nearly a moment before nodding slowly. "Aye magnar, we will do as you say.", he agrees while throwing a glare at three of his clansmen that looked mutinous. "I will need a few more men...and some of the ones you call smallfolk… to draw the sea dwellers on land."
I shrug, nodding to Wallace who had grown white at my look. "Some of my men will be volunteered to be shaved and dressed to appear as Thenn at a glance. I do not see it working close up but to the reavers your numbers will appear greater than they are. As for the smallfolk..."
Trailing off I look at the gathered people I have rescued and sigh, knowing that asking for volunteers would not net me much favor with them. At least not without incentive. "A silver for each one of you that participates", I tell them loudly, many expressions turning from anger to greed in an instant. Turning back to the Thenn I nod, "You will have them."
Taking a deep breath I nod to the men surrounding the Thenn, one of them stepping forward with bread and salt. The leader stares at the offering for a long moment before taking a bite of both, chewing thoughtfully as he mustered me.
"Do as you agreed and you will be free before long. Don't and suffer the consequences.", I warn him before turning to Shale, who had remained stoically silent at my side. None of the Thenn had recognized him, which was not all that surprising considering that he was wearing a completely different outfit and fit in well with my northmen.
"We will be preparing the battlefield while Wallace and twenty men of his choice get a new haircut", I smile at him before riding off, the sudden explosion of curses from my other sworn sword actually forcing an amused chuckle out of me. Privilege of rank was such fun sometimes.
In the end the ironborn completely ruined my carefully crafted plans within minutes of their arrival.
I had prepared for days and spent hours with Wallace and Ragnar – the Thenn leader – planning the deception needed to draw the Ironborn on land. Hours upon hours I tell you! Wallace and some of my men had shaved their heads bald and donned enough furs to appear as tribesmen from far enough away while the paid peasants had done their best to look suitably prisoner-like.
And what did the Ironborn do once they arrived with five of their longships? Head straight for the coast, obviously intending to beach their ships for the loading process as the tide slowly retreated. They had arrived at a time where the captain seemed to find himself in a hurry. Again I found myself in a position where I didn't know if I should laugh or cry even though I came to the conclusion that laughing would be more appropriate this time around. Chuckling, I shook my head as I watched the approaching ships from my position next to the burning bonfire on top of the tower, my weirwood bow leaning against a half collapsed wall half a meter away.
"Well...", I grunt, "I would have preferred if they brought a cog or two along. Could have really used those...but the longships will have to do."
Shale just looks at me in silence, eyebrows raised in question.
"Yes, yes...", I waved him off. "We have not yet won the fight but look!"
Stabbing my finger energetically at the approaching ships I shake my head again, "They are doing all the work for us! Once they beach their ships they will only get free again come tide, leaving us with literally hours of time to put them down where they have nowhere to go!"
I sigh and command one of my semi Thenn to get the men ready. They were to let the ironborn land in peace and attack once most of their warriors had disembarked. My archers and myself would pepper them with arrows from the cliffs while the cavalry would run over whoever was left after they inevitably chose to rush the archers position. Throwing another glance at the quickly approaching ships I grunt in incomprehension but also a little curiosity. Who was the idiot leading those reavers and why had he chosen to approach the way he did? Sending a few boats ahead to scout the lay of the land would have been so much safer. Why in the seven hells was the pirate commander rushing it as he was? I honestly couldn't tell...which worried me slightly.
Frowning, I sent another runner to my men, telling them to send out a few scouts up and down the coast and into the hinterlands as well. I could afford the temporary loss of men and it would hopefully avert any surprises I had not accounted for. Even with five Longships the ironborn was unlikely to have more than two hundred men with him as they would be at capacity with three hundred. Even if they stacked their promised human bounty like firewood they would at most fit five hundred people on the ships before being overloaded to the point of outright sinking the longships. Adding in that the Thenn would have to be transported as well… two hundred seemed to be reasonable.
One hour later the longships finally beached and the crews made landfall. As it turned out the ironborn captain had indeed reason to his madness...and that I miscalculated by an order of magnitude. Dozens and dozens of ironborn jumped off the ships into the shallow waters before forming up in a not even slightly organized group on the beach. From my vantage point I corrected the number of ironborn upwards to easily four hundred with barely a dozen men remaining behind to guard the beached ships.
Even as the roar of the ironborn leader caused them to charge the lighthouse with a bloodthirsty cheer I grunt with some humor. No honor among thieves. The ironborn had obviously intended to kill or capture the Thenn and take all the human and material loot for themselves. They – quite obviously – did not intend to honour their agreement to ferry the clansmen back north.
Thankfully this did not change my plan in the slightest.
"Never cut twice!", I roar and release the bowstring, the arrow thrumming off it as it arcs high before coming down on the charging reavers, nearly hundred more arrows adding to the volley. The ironborn are lethally surprised by the sudden rain of death, dozens being punched to the ground with cries of agony as steel and wood penetrate armour, flesh and bone. Our position on top of the cliff allowed us a height advantage not easily countered as the few ironborn archers tried to return fire only for their arrows to fall short or glance off stone.
Another volley impacts the ironborn, who had quickly formed into something close to a turtle formation with shields over their heads. This greatly reduced the death toll reaped by my archers but even so I see nearly twenty men go down as roughly every fifth arrow found a way past shield and other protection. Not even a minute into the fight and already seventy reavers were either dead or too injured to be of any consequence. Already I spot some pirates wavering and glance back at their beached ships with not a little panic. The first man to actually turn is run through by the leader as the third volley rains down on the attacking group, the men losing another dozen men as their shieldwall moves even closer together...making them a prime target for my cavalry. I shot a flaming arrow into the sky as my horsed men broke out of the woods next to the beach where they had been awaiting my signal. Roughly eighty horses charge the rattled ironborn, a cry of panicked dismay echoing through their ranks at the new development.
By now they had recognized that they were not facing the undisciplined wildlings they had been expecting but a far more coherent force, the banner carried by my cavalry removing any doubt that might still have been harboured. About half of the ironborn turn to face the new threat, their shieldwall lowering in that direction...which is immediately and ruthlessly used by my archers as the front becomes the focus of the next volley, nearly forty men dying in the steel rain. A few ironborn had turned as the riders appeared, running hard for the ships. Of those none made it as my archers took special care to remove any ironborn that threatened to go beyond their range.
The continuous bombardment by my archers had the additional effect of shattering any actually useful response the reavers might have put together against the charging cavalry. Big holes had been opened up by the arrows, the charging cavalry impacting the already panicking ironborn like the fist of an angry god moments later. Dozens were simply run over as the riders forced their way through the gathered pirates, not once slowing or even stopping until they broke through on the other side of the mob, leaving nearly a hundred dead and absolute bloody chaos in their wake. Confusion reigned supreme and any form of cohesion had disappeared with the pirate captain – who had been one of the pirates run over – leaving my archers to kill almost at will.
Barely a hundred reavers were left by the time my riders turned around and made ready for another pass. The sight of a wall of horses bearing down on them a second time finally proved to be too much, the pirates throwing away their weapons and kneeling down with the hands above their heads, pleading for mercy. Wallace, who was leading the riders ordered thirty to go for the ships and take care of the guards while he surrounded the surviving reavers as the rain of arrows petered out. Fifty of my foot marching out of the woods a moment later putting the last thought of restarting the fight out of the reavers minds.
Staring down at the battlefield – slaughter field more like it – I grunt in satisfaction. If I had lost more than a dozen men over the battle I would be surprised. Turning to my men I grin wryly as cheers of victory start to rise all around. It seems I would have to find a way to retain – and pay – them after all. I had not in my wildest dreams counted on this many of them surviving the fight...but I was hardly disappointed.
This was a miscalculation I could easily get used to
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