Capítulo 256: 9
281AC – Part III
I left the captain and the others to their tasks and followed Eddard Stark and the other assembled nobles to a manse not far from the harbor, grizzled northmen standing guard at the entrance to the building. A grimace comes unbidden to my face as I take in their appearance and equipment, both very much not suited for the heat of Dorne. I could not fathom why they were still wearing their northern garments in the sweltering heat, knowing what it must be like beneath. Was this some sort of punishment detail or had the dornish forced northerners to wear their normal equipment?
Glancing at Lord Stark with a raised eyebrow he shrugs. "House Dayne found it to be more prudent to quarter us away from the castle considering recent...unpleasantries."
That had actually not been what I wanted to ask but an interesting information nonetheless, allowing me to jump at the opportunity. I was not one to let such an opening pass by, after all.
"How is the current situation, if I may ask?", I inquired politely, "I have not left the ship for weeks and am very much out of date regarding the current political… unpleasantries."
The lady Dayne snorts from beside the northern lord Paramount, who looked almost pained at his understatement being thrown right back at him. She is also the one to answer the question as Eddard Stark had yet to recover from the verbal curveball that really wasn't one. The relative youth of the lord paramount had never been more obvious than in this second. I really had to wonder how he had survived the politicking that must have been present even in an army on the move, considering the ridiculous number of nobles that would have been present. My guess was that Lord Arryn had buffered most of the more political aspects and witty banter, leaving his charges to take care of the more martial ones.
"The most important information you have to know is that the war is over by all accounts, only the cleanup remains."
"Cleanup she says…", mutters the Dustin heir following after the woman, only for her to swat him playfully on the arm.
"That she does", she smirks before turning back to me, "Dragonstone surrendered a week ago after coming to an agreement with the new king – Robert Baratheon, first of his name."
"What are the contents of the agreement, if I may ask?"
"The Dragons retain Dragonstone", Eddard jumps into the conversation again with a scowl, a hard look on his face. "They will be reduced to a noble house, swear fealty to the new dynasty and renounce their claim to the throne. In exchange the crownland houses close to Dragonstone are sworn to them and the war comes to an end with a blanket pardon issued to all houses that fought for the Targaryens. To secure the pact Robert's firstborn son will wed a daughter of the Dragons, fusing the old royal line to the new one. Until then little Viserys will be fostered at Kingslanding."
"As Robert has yet no heir the girl in question will likely be the babe still in Rhaella's womb, if it is a girl. The mad king had a last one in him, it seems."
I blink, not being able to stop myself from voicing my first thought. "This sounds like a spectacularly bad idea."
A strangled laugh escapes the Stark lord and he looks at me with some approval but also a gaze that is much more evaluating than I would have liked. For me it also sounded like a bad idea to be on the map of influential persons such as Eddard Stark even if it might offer me the opportunity to influence things far above my weight class. Glancing around me and at the nobles currently in my presence I hide a wince – it seems it was already too late by far to remain unnoticed. I would have to make do.
"I agree but I would like to hear your reasoning as well.", he grunts and waves for me to elaborate as we move into a well furnished room with half a dozen comfy seats. Large windows allowed a fresh breeze to cool down the room to a bearable degree, if only just. Some wine, water and different juices waited upon our arrival and I quickly poured myself some of the last one, giddy to taste orange once again. Of the nobles only the Dustin, Reed and Glover lords followed us in addition to Ashara and little Jon, who had long since fallen asleep again.
Settling myself in one of the many chairs I hum for a moment, enjoying my drink and gathering my thoughts before elaborating.
"Well… it leaves the vanished party – the dragons – in a position of relative strength, more so as their supporters also come off with little more than the losses they already suffered. They will recover within a decade or two, making the situation ripe for yet another war if Rhaella decides to try getting back the throne instead of adhering to the agreement. Keeping Viserys as a hostage will also do little to help the situation beyond keeping a strained peace. It also has a clear end date if the king doesn't make the state as hostage even more obvious than it already is anyway.
At least until the promised marriage happens in the future, this is a standoff at best… a pause in hostilities, not a true peace… What about Elia and her children? How do they figure into the agreement?"
"They are located in Sunspear and have taken on the Martell name again, renouncing the throne that only brought pain to the family.", Ashara replies at once.
"Oh,great...yet another house that could try claiming the throne", I mutter only for Eddard to make yet another strangled sound that might have evolved into a laugh if he had allowed it. Ashara, far less ashamed of her emotions, laughed lightly with a wide smile on her face. To me it seemed that the young Stark Lord had far less control over his reactions than the older self I had watched in the show and read about in the books. Somehow this made him a lot more sympathetic to me, approachable almost.
"Two questions… where will the capital be located after the Kingsfire? How are the other Paramountcys faring? No, three. Why did King Baratheon agree to this deal? It seems very much lopsided and not in his favor to me."
"He had little choice.", Eddard defends his chosen brother at once even if his expression only soured further. "The losses at the Trident have been only just short of crippling, leaving the Reach the strongest by far in this conflict. Even with the Lannister entry into the war they have more numbers than all others combined. All the more so after the Westerlander losses in the Kingsfire.
Without concessions Dorne and the Reach might have continued the war with Rhaella at their head, leaving the outcome once again very much uncertain. No, that is not true. Our forces are spend and tired, theirs would not have been. Continuing the fight would have caused every side to lose more than they could really afford with winter coming. An agreement had to be reached at nearly any price...
The only reason the war stopped at all was the Kingsfire after which even their supporters were reluctant to fight for the Dragons. In addition Jamie Lannisters action created a debt of honor between Dorne and the Westerlands, leaving the dornish unwilling to continue hostilities. But they would have pushed on despite this, had Robert put too much pressure on them or punished them too harshly."
"So….a compromise as we lack the strength needed to push anything else through.", I sigh and Ashara nods.
"Yes, just so – a very astute observation. To come back to your questions. Kings Landing will remain the capital, a new castle to be raised in the place of the Red Keep. It will take years, of course. The king will hold court at the biggest manse in the city until the Keep is finished. Moving the capital to Storms End had been considered but dismissed as not to favor one of the seven kingdoms more than the others. Considering the current … delicate… situation this has been thought best."
To me it sounded more like the Targaryns had a hand in this as well even though it had – obviously – not been published as widely as the peace agreement itself. In the end the location of the capital was a minor concern relative to the other ones I had been confronted with during the ongoing conversation. I felt very happy that I had Moat Cailin between my holdings and this clusterfuck to be. Sadly it would likely not help me all that much if the shit really hit the fan.
"The Crownlands as a whole have lost much and been ravaged by war more than any other land but the Riverlands as much of the fighting has happened there. With the damage Kings Landing has taken it will be years before the nobles will be back to their former strength. Refugees created by the Kingsfire have spread through the lands making a difficult situation even worse as bandits reign supreme, only the presence of the different armies causing them to be somewhat cautious in their actions.
Dorne has lost many men at the Trident but other than that suffered little. I expect my countrymen to go back to their isolationist ways for a decade at least. What will happen afterwards we will have to see. As I am coming north with you I expect to be far less informed in the future, House Sunstark being far minor to House Dayne.
The Westerlands – the nobles more than the levies – have taken a blow in the Kingsfire but their home is intact. Jamie Lannister survived by smuggling the Martells out and being far from the explosion, so at least finding a new lord will not be a problem. Much will depend on him and if he rises to the situation. His uncles will be a great help to him, if he allows it. His sister is set to marry the new King, binding the Westerlands – and their gold – to the new dynasty. This agreement had been brokered at some point before the Kingsfire between Lord Tywin and Lord Jon after Lyanna's… situation… became known. Backing off after Aery's final descent into madness wasn't an option even if I suspect that Jamie Lannister would have loved nothing less. There have been rumors that the siblings have been very close to each other – more so than strictly proper. Of course those rumors will be put to rest with thousands of miles between them."
This marriage also created or better said – finalized – a sort of counterweight to the Targaryn, Martell, Tyrell block that I could feel forming in between sentences. With the marriage alliances of the other four paramounts and the pact of friendship seeded in the fostering of Eddard and Robert the vale the whole situation would be on a knife's edge, balanced in a way not even the most deviant masochist would call sensible. So much for preparing for the ironborn next before tackling the Long Night. It seems I would have my hands full with more mundane backstabbing long before that. I hated my life – the new one – sometimes, really.
Ashara continues, completely unimpressed by my racing and mournful thoughts. "Storms End held out until it could be relieved, some smuggler by the name of Davos breaking the blockade with an ease that made them the eternal enemies of house Redwyne, I suspect. He has since been ennobled for his deeds and granted a minor holding on the Stormland coast. Stannis Baratheon will take the mantle of lord paramount and continue to raise his younger brother. Until King Robert has a son he will also double as the heir to the throne. The lands on a whole have been hit hard by the war and the occupation in all but name they suffered at the hands of the Reach, leaving relations between the two Paramounts strained at best.
The Roses suffered the least of all parties, losing but also gaining next to nothing in the conflict. They remain the strongest Paramountcy on the continent because of it but also one of the least trusted as they never really committed themselves to one side or the other. The...inconclusive...result of the conflict has not been anticipated by them and is the one they can make little use of without continuing the conflict, which nobody really wants. Mace Tyrell got named "the Toad" by many a bard because he had been sitting around, croaking for all to hear but done nothing of consequence during the war. It is said that all that dare to utter the moniker in his presence have been put to the sword without fail.
The Tullys are in a similar situation to the Crownlands and even with the Blackfish at the helm I suspect that they will face a lot of problems in the future as the blanket pardon forced on the king does not allow them to punish their bannerman that did not follow them in the conflict. The Riverlands have been infamously disunited in the past and currently it does not look as if that will change anytime soon.
As for the north….well, you are best suited to tell us about it."
"And now we have finally come back around to the topic I wanted to speak about in the first place.", Eddard smiles wryly, sending a mock glare at the woman that lost herself in the explanation of the current political situation after my initial question. She just smiles back at him without an ounce of shame in her expression, softly rocking the fussing baby in her arms that had woken up a few seconds before.
Turning to me the northern Lord Paramount continues. "We also suffered greatly at the Trident and will take a long time to recover. More so as my sister could not be saved in the end, leaving the whole conflict meaningless beyond the revenge against the ruling family. One in two men will not be returning home or be crippled for life, leaving the north weaker than it has been in generations. Among the dead are the lords closest to your holdings, as you well know. Many a minor lord has fallen in the fighting and even some of the higher ranked ones like Wyman Manderly are among the mourned dead. This conflict has cost us much for little gain...we Starks do not do well in the south. An old proverb that has once again been proven true. At home...well...why don't you tell me?"
"The western coast remains secure or at least it was at the time of my departure.", I reply at once while being unable to keep a sliver of pride out of my voice. "The ironborn and wildlings roaming the lands of the north have been put to the sword or sent to the wall. The northern host has a home unspoiled by war to return home to, as you commanded me to strive for. For the rest of the north I can supply no information as I am – I have to admit – not well connected among my peers after the less than glorious death of my father."
Lord Stark hums and leans back, mustering me with a judging but carefully neutral gaze. "You left out that you are doing well indeed, rising from a few men to your name to protecting half the continent in less than three years. I find myself….curios."
I felt my smile freeze on my face for a moment but relaxed again with some effort. "I had some luck to start out and continue to build upon it to the best of my ability, Milord. I am sure Lord Glover has reported likewise."
The son of Gablart Glover that had been keeping silent until now laughs loudly at my words. "Luck, my arse! If my father is to be believed you are successful beyond all reason, Blackhand! How do you do it?"
"As I said…", I continued carefully, "A combination of luck and ability, which fortunately left me in a much better situation than I started out with."
"Or are you receiving outside help? From the South, maybe?", the Dustin heir also jumps into the conversation as Eddard leans back and returns to his observing position, leaving his two friends to voice the questions he obviously had as well. The good cop, bad cop routine? Really? I almost scoff but manage to control my expression.
"The only help I have gotten from the South are those emigrants seeking a better future in my lands, for which I am grateful.", I responded at once with a frown, not liking the way this conversation was going. "Any other lord could have enjoyed the same success I did under the circumstances."
Eddard Stark looks at me with a raised eyebrow at the comment. "Do not sell yourself short, Lord Ryther. What you have accomplished has been nothing short of miraculous and will be of great advantage to the north in the future. The last time house Stark has seen development on this scale in its retainers was the time the Manderlys arrived from the Reach to seek a new home. You even have the fleet!"
"I would not yet call the few ships to my name a fleet, Milord.", I humbly deflect only for Ashara to laugh softly, her part obviously being the one of the ice breakers whenever the mood grew too strained.
"Did you not beat the Ironborn bloody twice and sail halfway around the continent on the command of your lord?"
"Well, yes.", I confirm only for her to interrupt again.
"Did you not protect the western coast against raiders for over a year and have more ships than any northern house bar the Manderlys?"
"Skagos and Bear Island might have more", I mutter – a weak defense if I ever heard one I acknowledge in the same moment with some chagrin.
"Maybe in fisher boats and merchantmen but in warship numbers you beat them handily", Eddard confirms stoically and Ashara smiles widely, having made her point.
"See! I would call it a fleet, Milord! The northern fleet in the West even"
I am left floundering for a moment before catching myself. "Even so, even the minor ironborn houses outnumber me more often than not. I might not have a fleet for long if they decide to raid in any numbers."
"The future is always uncertain, only Winter will always come.", Eddard Stark grumbles and I hide the smile that comes to my face unbidden at the iconic words. "For now you have the ships and not a few of them, allowing us to return north far faster than we would have been able to otherwise."
"I am yours to command, Milord", I reply at once, Eddard taking the offer with a serious nod.
"Aye, you have delivered on your word every time I called upon you and will do so again, I have no doubt. We will need to leave north as soon as possible. While the war has ended I would prefer returning home to avoid whatever the south comes up with if we were to remain for too long. While joining the northern host would have been preferable I will not chance crossing half the continent again to meet up with them. They will return home without me."
"We can depart in two days, Lord Stark", I replied at once, having requested the information from Rivers before leaving the ship. "The crew needs at least a day ashore and we will have to restock our supplies. After that we can leave at your command."
I did not mention that I would also need a little time to sell the salt and other wares I had brought along and buy some spices and other goods that might be bought at a low price this far down south but would catch me a good price further north. I had to pay for this journey in some form… and I had promised Jasana a present of some sort, which I would have to find now that I had arrived at Starfall. Leaving without one would not be good for my health in the long run, I was sure. Disappointing the wife was never a good idea, something which I had learned with some pain in my old life and strived to never repeat.
"Two days will be more than enough. Make it three… this will allow my party to make preparations as well. I will trust that you see us home safely."
"I will, Milord.", I verify with a small bow and stand up, following Lord Stark who had risen first. "If you allow it, I will go and see to the preparations."
"Very well, Lord Ryther. See to it."
I nod again and turn to the door, Lord Stark's voice stopping me once again just before I pass the doorway.
"House Stark will not forget your service… and everything else. Be sure of it."
"Thank you, Milord", I acknowledge with another small bow and leave at once, not quite sure how to take the last addition to the sentence. Was I being praised or warned, promised reward or punishment? I could not quite tell. Damn politics and double speak...I had thought only the south did shit like this? Scowling I nod to a servant that informed me that I and my men would have quarters in the manse if we wished to use them. I agreed to use the room but would have most of my men remain on the ships, feeling that it would be better to be safe than sorry as long as we anchored in a foreign harbor.
The next day I find myself in the merchant quarter and feeling somewhat stupid. Selling salt as I wanted too turned out to be a bust. In a country with access to the sea as hot as Dorne salt turned out to be worth almost nothing. Anybody could get salt by getting a little seawater and placing it into the sun, even in great quantities. It seems my salt trade would be dying in the crib as the dornish could just produce it much much cheaper than I would be able to. I planned to go back to just covering my own needs as soon as I returned home, obviously needing to find another trade good if I really wanted to make money by the bucket load.
At least the northern fashion sold well amongst the more affluent merchants, even if it was more a curiosity than actually useful for them. In return I bought a lot of spices and herbs not found in the north but very common in Dorne, getting a good price while my men toiled under the unforgiving sun to load up the supplies needed to get us back north. Jasana would hopefully like the light dresses I had bought for her even though the northern climate would likely restrict their usefulness to indoors. As some of the more liberal pieces were almost see through I had really been more gifting myself, I supposed.
On the way back I intended to stop only once after the experiences of the last few weeks. We would be hugging the coast and bypassing the Reach entirely in addition to – hopefully – the Westerlands as well, heading for Seaguard at best speed. I would feel better in the Riverlander port where the Lord Paramount was family to Lord Stark than in any other harbor before that. Again I mourned the opportunity to further my trade network by stopping at more ports in between but I had judged it not be feasible.
I did not want to risk my precious cargo more than I absolutely needed to and was ready and willing to risk low supplies as long as the coast stayed in sight. If the supplies did not last as long as I needed them to, we could always make port at an earlier point in time. With us being anchored close to the shore every night we would also have a far easier time passing supplies between the ships as required, which relieved me greatly. Doing that on the open sea had been quite an adventure and not one of the enjoyable kind.
With Lord Stark I did not speak again before our departure, which happened three days after our initial discussion just as promised. I had of course quartered the woman in the captain's cabin with Lord Stark getting the only other officer room on the warship. Everybody else would bunk with the crew and where a free space could be found. The addition of two dozen dornish household guards that would be sworn to house Sunstark had come as a surprise to me but I just rolled with it, knowing that I could not really decline their passage anyway.
Leaving Starfall behind I felt somewhat relieved and also anticipatory as I was finally returning north to my family, which should have grown by another two members if the old gods and the new were willing. I had not been a religious person in my old life but in this one I knew higher beings to exist just as I was aware of the presence of magic, a prayer here or there wouldn't go amiss I was sure. More so as birth was still a real hazard to the woman in this day and age, not to speak of the additional danger if Wyndal turned out to be right with his prediction of twins.
Eddard Stark approached me again four days after our departure. I had taken command of the nightly guard detail, knowing that the men required at least some oversight to avoid them slacking off. Staring into the dark shores in deep thought I only noticed him as he had already joined my side.
"Lord Ryther", he greets before turning his gaze into the night as well, "How goes the night?"
"Calmly, Milord", I answer at once, "Gods willing it will stay so all the way to the north."
"Aye.", he agrees easily. "I have heard many things about you, Lord Ryther."
"Nothing too bad, I hope?", I replied easily and turned to the Stark Lord, meeting the calm stare of the young Paramount.
"A few bad things, yes… but those are the envious words of those less successful than you are. Even the north is not free of at least some intrigue and backstabbing, minor as it might be."
He pauses for a moment before continuing. "Lord Glover asked it during our last meeting but you never really answered. What is the secret behind your success? I would love to repeat it across the north, more so as we are dangerously weak after the war and will need to recover quickly."
"The people, Milord. The people.", I reply calmly and elaborate at his raised eyebrow.
"The north has many things in abundance, Milord. Fertile grounds, mountains full of ores, lumber aplenty and more fish in the waters than we could consume in a lifetime...but we cannot use all of this without people. It is the only resource lacking in the north. We are just too few."
I wave at the guards we can see standing around the ship in regular intervals. "Only some of the men you see have been born in the north, yet they all are of the north by now. I do what I can to attract immigrants and I do not care if they were born north or south of Moat Cailin! Experience shapes people and I strive to make the risk they took following my call worthwhile, making it the best decision they ever took. With more people I can use the resources I have much better, earning more money and being able to tackle bigger projects that attract yet more people in turn. I call it a circle of progress that, once entered almost takes care of itself."
Lord Stark snorts at my last words and I smile wryly at him. "Yes, true. That was a little – a lot – of an overstatement. It means more work all around and then some...but the results speak for themselves."
"So they do.", he agrees musingly, "If you were in my position and a boon of your choice would have been granted to you by the king...what would you choose?"
I hesitate for a long moment, feeling that my next answer might shape the years to come in ways that I could not yet fathom. "Assuming that I would actually want to call in the...favor...", I start carefully, weighting my every word, "then I would ask for those made homeless by the war to be sent north with enough food to last them a year. Maybe a tax break to recover from the war as well, if I was feeling lucky."
He actually chuckles at that. "Why food for a year?"
Shrugging, I lean back against the mast behind me. "The immigrants will not be immediately productive, a grace period is required if they are not to starve at once. Most of them would go farming, which would need time to yield results – in every meaning of the word. A year is far from enough to be true but I do not think that any more would be realistic, considering the consequences of the war.
Important would be that every newcomer gets welcomed properly, being introduced into the north and what it entails. I have little knowledge of farming but I suspect that practices differ some north and south of the moat...which the new farmers would have to be informed of if we expect them not to starve come winter. Same with the immigrants heading for the larger settlements. Only if properly taken care of at first, will they become anything else than a burden."
The Stark lord listens quietly and I suddenly notice that I had gotten off track after the first bit, snapping my mouth shut as color threatens to rise on my face.
"By all means, continue.", he challenges me and I do as asked, knowing that I had passed the point of no return in my argument a while ago. Instead I went on full speed, hoping that at least some of my ideas might stick or actually be used in the future.
"The north is bigger than all other kingdoms taken together, yet we lack the numbers to make use of it...this would change it. With an additional tax break it would allow the lords to integrate the new people without adding yet another net drain on scarce resources.
Another way to strengthen the north would be to take up more thorough trade with our neighbors, far and wide. Trade means income which equals growth...and power, at least indirectly. For this we would either need more ships, better roads, lucrative contracts with outside merchants...or all of it at once.
If we can find silver, gold or other precious stones in the mountains it would also help a great deal but we can do little to influence this other than starting the search in the first place. Everything else would be up to luck."
"Interesting thoughts...", Eddard Stark muses, "I will take them into consideration, as they deserve. I will return to my cabin now, my sea legs have yet to find me."
"As you wish, Milord. A good rest to you.", I bow to my superior and emit a sigh after he had left my side. Well, this had either gone very well or very badly. I couldn't quite tell which but slightly favored the first one.
Some days later I am summoned by Captain Rivers, who points out at the bow of the ship. "Floating wreckage, Milord."
"What type?", I inquired at once, knowing that we had passed Crakehall a day past and passing through a battlefield not much later was just too much coincidence for my tender sensibilities.
"Ironborn longships and at least one galley, Milord."
"Estimation on how long it has been floating around?", I ask only to be interrupted by a shout from the galley's bow.
"A live one! We have a survivor!"
A soaked and shivering man is dragged onto my ship a few minutes later and greedily drinks the water one of the sailors hands him, before coming back to himself and taking stock of his surroundings. I muster him in turn, noting the strained crest on his cloth.
"You are a man of Crakehall, are you not?", I question and he nods carefully, having noted that he was being addressed by a noble.
"Aye, milord. I am."
"How came you to be found in the wreckage, good man?"
He is silent for a moment, taking another gulp of water before answering. "Lord Crakehall chased and found Ironborn raiders, Milord. They fled upon spotting us and we gave chase...it was a trap, Milord. One or two ships might have escaped but the others were caught as more sails suddenly appeared behind us, leaving little room to maneuver. We fought with everything we had, taking half a dozen of them with us, but they overwhelmed us. I managed to jump overboard before my ship, the `Stubborn` could burn down to the keel...others followed but they have drifted off over the last few days."
"How many ships did you face and how long ago was this?"
"Fifteen ships and three days ago, Milord."
I hum to myself in thought before turning to Lord Stark, who had walked up to us during the interrogation. "Lord Stark...you have heard the man. I suspect that the Ironborn are either sacking Crakehall by now or still lurking somewhere around...my bet would be on the first one as the target would be much too tempting to overlook. Your commands?"
Eddard Stark looks deeply conflicted for a moment before shaking his head, "We will continue on as we were. Making for Crakehall makes little sense as any raiders would have long since vanished again with the headstart they have. Have Rivers steer us along the coast on the way north. If the worst happens and we are caught by the ironborn as well we will beach the ships and escape over land. I will not risk a fight at this point in time."
"As you command, Milord.", I bow and return to captain Rivers, quickly relaying the orders.
"Hm...common sense. I would have taken Lord Stark to be one to head for the most likely sacked city at once.", he rumbles while not looking like he was disagreeing with the commands of the Lord Paramount.
"So would I", I agree, "but it appears having his family on board of the vessels has forced him into a more… cautious… approach. Not that I disagree. Facing nine ironborn ships, maybe even on the open sea if we ran into them on our way to Crakehall, would not be something to look forward to."
Rivers grunts in agreement and starts to shout orders. The rescued sailor was seamlessly integrated into the crew, much too happy to be alive to complain about us not going to rescue his fellow Crakehalls or heading straight for his home. In this day and age his old ship most likely was more his home than the town had been and as such he found himself homeless even if he might not necessarily be without one to return to. I suspected that he would be throwing the Crakehall sigil away before long and simply vanish into my smallfolk, as so many others had done before him.
Either by luck or because the Ironborn had found a more promising target before meeting us we managed to sail past Banefort and into the Ironman's bay without meeting any more resistance than a stiff breeze that blew in an unfortunate way for three days before finally relenting. Supplies were getting scarce but we would make it to Seaguard without going hungry, the `Plenty` living up to its name or at least not running completely out of supplies yet.
Of course this point – where I was feeling reasonably secure – turned out to be the one where everything did go tits up, proving once again that Murphy really had no sense of humor. "Smoke on the horizon!", the spotter on top of the main mast cried out and I cursed as I put two and two together. Seaguard was either being attacked or had been in the recent past, putting a problem before us I would rather have avoided. We had little choice to make port as our food and water would only last us a few days more at most. We could of course always anchor next to the coast at any point and forage but that would be far from efficient enough to get us to our goal.
I told Lord Stark so, who had appeared in full armor not long after the shout, his nearly always present retinue of noble warriors right at his heels. "It would have made no difference either way", he states, shaking his head, "Crakehall we could pass by...Seaguard we cannot. We need the supplies and because of my connection...no, obligation...to the Riverlands I could not have let it be in any case. Make for Seaguard and ready the men. We will reinforce house Mallister."
"As you command, Milord.", I nod grimly and turn to Rivers, who starts shouting commands at my nod. Ashara with a guard and the other noncombatants would be placed in boats and row for the Plenty, the ship anchoring close enough to the coast for them to be able to escape overland should they be attacked. This should keep them relatively safe while I followed lord Stark into battle. At least I could count on the additional men the northern lords had brought along, adding a good six dozen capable fighters to the men I had brought along.
All but throwing the `cargo` onto the boats, we are on our way within fifteen minutes, the men donning their armor and checking their weapons on last time as we quickly approach the besieged city. Coming into sight was a town at war. Half a dozen ironborn ships sat in the harbor with half again that number burning in front of it together with other burning ships I take to have been the Mallister fleet. It seemed the reavers had gotten the element of surprise, likely due to the thick fog that had persisted this morning - leaving the famed bell of house Mallister next to useless. Or at least not useful enough to keep their fleet from being shattered against the harbor before making more than a token effort at defense.
"Raise the captured flags of house Weaver!", I shout to Rivers suddenly as a thought flashes through my mind. He blinks and turns to execute my order in a flash, having instantly understood my intent. Before we were spotted the banner of the defeated ironborn that I had forgotten about until a moment before had been raised and I had a wide smile on my face as I readied my weirwood bow, anticipation growing in my gut. I had grown to hate the ironborn with impunity, my experiences coloring my view on the reavers beyond what might have been considered the norm even in this day and age. Curiously this also took care of any pre-battle jitters I may have suffered from otherwise. Or I was just dead to all the killing by now – pun intended.
Lord Stark, who had stepped next to me again in his full plate followed by the Dustin, Glover and Reed lords, frowned upwards. "I dislike this subterfuge.", he states plainly and I can only react with a shrug. "Dislike it all you like, Milord. If it works this will give us the moment of surprise. If it doesn't we have lost nothing."
"Damn southern ways...", the Dustin heir grumbles as he shakes his head with a frown but I also detect a faint air of approval beneath the contempt.
"If it works I do not care where the idea hails from.", the younger Glover interjects on my behalf, fingering the heft of a greataxe strapped to his back. "And it is not as if the ironborn are ones to fight with any honor."
"True enough", grunts Eddard Stark and fastens his helmet, a snarling wolf painted artfully onto the otherwise plain steel. "There is blood work to be done, my friends. Show them the error in their ways!"
"Aye!", myself and the men roar back, readying us for battle.
Six ships full of ironborn in addition to whatever survivors they might have fished out of the sea after the ship battle meant at least six hundred reavers loose in the town. I had underestimated the number of reavers one could squeeze onto a longboat once and would not do so again. Coming closer our ruse seemed to have worked as no cry of alarm rose from the reavers that had stayed behind protecting the ships. I spotted an occasional glance thrown our way but they mostly seemed to focus on the town and the screams of a sack in progress that are clearly audible from the settlement. What I did not spot along the reavers battle line was a single sigil – it seems this one would be disavowed as yet another `rouge` fleet if the raid faced failure and likely even more so if successful… lip service at best, of course.
The Ironborn had obviously taken advantage of the fact that Seaguard had been weakened badly in the war, just like any other participating house with most of their surviving manpower still far away to the south. Looking further into the town I can see smoke in the direction of the keep, which still seemed to be holding out. The reavers nature made them very bad at siege work, so I had little doubt that House Mallister would survive but their town might be mauled something fierce in the meantime. In the time I spent thinking about it the castle disappears again behind a thick curtain of smoke that makes me choke, the many wrecked and looted buildings steadily feeding the many fires, resulting in a smoke so dense it might as well been heavy fog.
Well, on our watch Seaguard would not fall… I muse as I pick my target and let loose the moment we arrive at the dock, my longships running right alongside their counterparts and all but shaving off their oars in the process. Nearly a hundred arrows rain down on half as many guards scattered over the ships, taking them completely by surprise and leaving only a few survivors that are completely unable to recover in any meaningful way before my men and the other northerners jump from ship to ship, putting the survivors to the sword without much resistance. Any ironborn that dared to raise their head to contest the capture of their ships got targeted by dozens of archers, making the resistance very brief in most instances. Captured riverlanders on the ships cry out first in fear than in relief as they notice and then recognize the northern sigils painted on many a shield and gambeson.
I find myself on the lookout on top of my flagships main mast, weirwood bow singing as I use the height advantage and secure footing – the ship was moving very little docked as it was – to full effect. I had never stopped training with the bow and it showed as I reaped a fearsome toll amongst the few reavers that were caught between the ships and the houses of the settlement proper. My position high above the ground allowed me to use any gaps in the smoke to mow down ironborn before they knew that they were targeted at all. The few archers that spotted me never reached a distance where a feasible shot might have been attempted, my weirwood bow outreaching them by an order of magnitude even without the height advantage.
Below I see Lord Stark and a hundred men make landfall and move in the direction of the castle in one solid block of heavily armored and blooded veterans, the remaining men securing the docks against any reavers that might return from the sack to their `secure` ships. To keep up the guise I had the men hide on the ships while I and other lookouts gave them a sign – a whistle in most cases as we couldn't see shit – whenever they had to show themselves and turn whatever was in front of them into pincushions.
The fog of war – literally as the settlement continued to burn in many areas – worked ridiculously well for us as the ironborn host had scattered upon beating back the defenders to the keep. Drunk upon looting and raping their way through the settlement they returned to the ship in small groups easy taken out by my men. Sadly we also killed some of the Mallister smallfolk in friendly fire this way, the reavers often dragging along `salt wives` or `thralls` they wanted to take with them. While my men did their best accidents happened and we only managed to rescue maybe three in five victims. Whenever we put a reaver group to the sword my men would sprint to the slain ironborn and drag them out of sight before returning to wait for the next party.
Of course at some point we did not get everyone and reavers escaped but by that time we had slaughtered nearly two hundred reavers in addition to those taken out in the initial assault without taking any losses in return, making the battle to this point one sided in a way that beggared belief – not that I minded. If I interpreted the sounds of battle coming from the keep correctly, then Lord Stark and the men that had gone with him had also found the trouble they had been looking for, likely catching a lot of reavers in the back. I hoped the `unfortunate` squids would be squished like a bug between Starks men and the castle defenders but I liked to prepare for the worst.
As such I commanded the men to move the longships a dozen feet from the wharf before anchoring them again, making it not immediately obvious from the settlement that they had moved at all. This turned out to be a lethal surprise for the strong party of ironborn that showed up to retake the ships half an hour later. They weathered the storm of arrows well with a shield wall and even killed some of my men with their counterfire but what they had not anticipated was the ships being too far from the docks to easily jump on.
They were caught on open ground.
I could almost taste their dismay from my position in the crows nest, my fingers bleeding from the hard workout I had put them through over the days passing. I had killed at least two dozen reavers by now and was running out of arrows quickly but as I looked down on the remaining ironborn I could almost watch the fight bleeding out of them as they took stock of their situation. The reavers could of course throw their armor away and swim for the ships but this would make them easy targets for my archers. They could not stay as my men were wilting down their numbers every second even though their shieldwall was pretty solid. My men just had the better position behind the wooden reeling of the ships, making the ironborn return shots miss their targets more often than not.
The moment Lord Stark returned – drenched in blood from head to toe – at the head of nearly double the number of men he had set out with even if the northern contingent had been cut by nearly a third at first glance was the moment the fight left them completely. Caught in a bad position all around they threw away their weapons and surrendered, a few more of them dying to arrows before my command to ceasefire reached even the last men, not that I cared overly much.
Eddard Stark had a lot of problems keeping his allies, the castle garrison having reinforced his men, from killing the ironborn on the spot but he managed somehow. As he was taking control over the situation in the settlement I took stock as well, wincing as I counted thirty dead men amongst my numbers with again as many wounded being treated by what medical personnel was available. They at least were expected to make a full recovery given enough time, if rot didn't set into their wounds.
I had also shamelessly claimed three of the longships – right of conquest you know – my men had secured and already shuffled around my crew in a way that would allow for them to sail the ships back home without too many difficulties. The remaining three I would `gift` to the Mallisters, as I did not have the men to crew them as well in any case – so why not build up a little good will at no cost to my own?
The next two days are spent taking stock of the situation, helping the townsfolk with the aftermath and just being all around nice guys in a recently sacked town. The `sacked` part put me in a little dilemma, though. I had counted on refilling our larders in Seaguard but looking at the current state of the town I did not expect any surviving merchant to part with his food in a hurry, if anything was left at all. The harbor and the adjourning warehouses had been burning down pretty thoroughly – how thoughtless of the reavers… I spend much of the time in port making the best of a bad situation.
With the agreement of Denys Mallister, who had taken the sack hard and told me that he would join the Night's Watch to repent once Lord Jason Mallister returned from the war, I managed to hold on the three longships I had initially claimed. I was also allowed to fill my ships with refugees that no longer had a home to return to, easing the burden on the Mallister lord and the surrounding lands while being a great boon to myself at the same time. Likely not seeing that I was doing myself a greater favor than him, Denys Mallister also filled up our supplies from the castle store enough for us to make it home.
Eddard Stark and his retinue had decided to brave the remaining distance to Winterfall on land, heading for the twins and up the kingsroad after that. Well, I suspected they might pass the Twins by and use a ferry somewhere if only to avoid the `late` Lord Walder – the title being muttered with a heavy dose of disdain whenever I heard it. His late appearance to the Trident had been pointed to often to explain the result of that particular clusterfuck. In any case Lord Stark's decision left me with even more space for refugees which I used to all but stack them upon each other in my glee to make a bargain out of the misfortune of others while actually helping them at the same time. Somehow I felt like devil and saint at the same time, a very curious position to be in.
The Stark lord had chosen to take this direction forward as Lord Mallister had informed us that the war hosts were returning home after successful talks with the Targaryens. The northern host would be somewhere on the kingsroad by now, allowing Eddard to rejoin his Bannermen somewhere before they reached Moat Cailin. I expected that there were at least some more political shenanigans involved I wasn't aware of but I cared little for that at this point. If it involved me it would reach me in time. If not then I had not wasted time worrying over nothing.
Lord Stark had taken me aside before vanishing in the direction of the castle with his retinue, as enough horses for his party had yet to be found. He thanked me profusely once again and summoned me to Winterfell for the next year, where I would receive some sort of `thanks` he only hinted at. I at least was reasonably sure by now that I would indeed get some sort of reward and not be punished for any real or imagined slight as some other lords might have wished.
Everything seemed to be going right for a change, which was of course the moment it all came crashing down.
The maester of Seaguard handed me a letter a day before we were set to leave for Rytherport, a sympathetic expression on his face.
"Milord, we received a letter for you. As it was addressed to Seaguard I have read it already...I am sorry, Milord."
Feeling scared all of sudden I take a deep breath before reading quickly through the words, my legs having long since giving out as I reached the end, my eyes staring emptily at the paper.
To Lord Mallister
please forward this letter to Lord Ryther as he makes port in your harbor.
Lord Ryther,
With great pain and sadness I have to inform you that your wife Jasana did not survive the birth of the twins. Both children, two boys, are fine and healthy but the rigors of birth proved to be too much for your wife despite my best efforts. We have since laid her to rest with our greatest respects and will keep the lands in order until your return.
I am sorry..
Wyndal
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