Chương 6: Fosterage V
Well, I'm back and I will have some time on my hands to write a bit. I hope you will enjoy it.
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- 279 AC -
- Bay of Ice, Bear Island -
(3rd Person POV)
Leman looked around the ship. He was so absorbed in the fight and had entered that 'state' if you will. Whenever he gets into a fight, he turns into a storm that doesn't stop until everything is dead. That doesn't mean he has lost control, but he is literally a machine in that state. His ever-improving senses sweep across the battle and he notices that the fight is more than won on his side. The only thing that remains is the last remaining Ironborn ship that managed to slip past Meage and is now heading towards the shore.
A few men stayed back to take care of the remaining Ironborn and then sail their ship to Bear Island. Meanwhile, Leman and the remaining Bear Islander are on their way to the shore again, to kill the last Ironborn. The Ironborn are a bother to Bear Island and with the economic rise of the Island, the raids got more frequent over the years. That was good and bad for Bear Island. Good, because it allowed for Leman to have a good time and to shed some blood, and bad because once Leman left, Bear Island would be left to deal with the raids alone. However, Leman had an idea for that. He was thinking about travelling to the Iron Islands and 'speaking' with the Greyjoys about their way of life. The raping and raving of villages across Westeros had to stop. They were simply too lazy to sow seeds and grow their food.
Something about the arrogance and the lawlessness of the action of the Ironborn, irked Leman the wrong way. He could feel every fibre in his body protest and urge him to crush those disgusting pricks. The Old Way would have to die, that was for sure and Leman would make sure of it, one way or the other.
He focused his fury on the current task. His mind was racing at light speed, or so it seemed to him at times. He was so much smarter and stronger than everyone else and at times he might have felt a bit lonely, had there not been for Freki and Geri, as well as his eagle and owl. They were his constant companions and were there for him no matter what.
.
[I changed the name of his wolves. Now they are Freki the Swift and Geri the Cunning. Just like they were supposed to.]
.
But it wasn't just that. He could feel his psychic might starting to manifest slowly. He had an instinctual control over it that was perfect, but he knew it was there and it could destroy ... a lot. Then there was his aura that caused fear among other things. He heard a guard once say that he thought he saw the sun as he walked past him which caused him to feel nauseous and see afterimages. Then there was the time, that he passively caused Jeor to kneel to him ... yeah that was a hard thing to explain to others.
He was so much more than others and it was starting to show more and more. Thankfully, he was not growing at the accelerated rate the Primarchs did. And yet, he couldn't help but feel at peace when he was in the wilds or fighting a bloody battle against these Ironborns. There was something interesting coming up at least, there was talk about a Tourney at Harrenhal and he was going there together with his siblings, that was for sure.
So many Lords and Ladies would attend there and he was interested to see what the Southern Lords were like. Were they truly as crafty as his father always said and as weak as Brandon made them out to be? He would find out for sure then.
.
The ship sailed quickly through the waters, trying to catch up to the Ironborn vessel. But they wouldn't make it. Now it was time for Jorah and the men at shore to shine and hold off the Ironborn until the Primarch arrived. The force of nature, they called him and if only they knew how right they were.
The Ironborn ship arrived at the muddy shore. Their ship drove up on the shore and then stopped moving. With a battle cry that was just something random, the Ironborn jumped out of their ship, swinging their swords, aiming their arrows and yelling profanities everywhere. The inhabitants of Bear Island didn't let the words of the squids deter them, however. They were prepared in formation.
Jorah was waiting for the Ironborn to arrive closely enough, while the few archers were aiming at the enemy archers in the hopes of taking them out and allowing them to concentrate on the melee. But that wasn't quite working out as they hoped and some enemy archers were still alive and shooting their arrows. Leman had shown them some tactics and had strong and sturdy shields handed out to every man and woman on Bear Island. He instilled protecting each other in them.
Despite being only 11 name days old, Leman was a figure of authority on Bear Island, only second to Maege and Jorah. But sometimes he might as well be above them when it comes to what it feels like to be a leader.
"Wait .... wait ...."
Jorah told his men to wait for the perfect time. The Ironborn were numerous still, despite fighting on board Maege's ship and losing a considerable amount of men. So the timing was crucial.
"Now! Attack!" Jorah yelled and the Bears attacked.
They dropped their shields to the front and started to push. The archers continued their attack on the enemy archers and were doing quite well, but still not quite finished. At that moment, the Ironborn arrived and crashed into the shields.
*BOOMM*
Shouts of pain and grunting from the Bears are heard as they hold on to their formation and the shields. This is an important moment in the fight and they can't give in. If they let the Ironborn push them away now, they will lose a great advantage. They can't have them behind them, that would spell doom for the men and they know it.
The Ironborn are still arriving and crashing into the shields. The strong men and women of the Bears press their legs into the ground, to stop themselves from being pushed back. And then it is over. The last Ironborn push is over and the Islander can go on the offensive.
"Attack!" Jorah shouts.
The men shouted their battle cry and thrust their swords forward. The chainmail of the Ironborn held off some damage, but not all of them could escape the deadly blades of the Bears. Jorah Mormont was a skilled fighter. His father Jeor and his aunt Maege taught him and was battle-hardened already.
The young Mormont swings his sword at an Ironborn. He manages to push forward his strength higher than that of his adversary. The men clench their jaws and try to get out of their hold. Jorah knows when to change tactics though and he shifts his weight to the right and uses his sword to deflect his opponent's sword. He presses his right leg down firmly and pushes off. His sword moves from top to bottom to his side and he swings it with all his strength.
*Wooosh*
The sword hits the Ironborn's metal armour and makes a high-pitched sound.
*Cling*
Although the attack didn't draw blood, it knocked the air out of the Ironborn's lungs and took away his stability. Jorah doesn't miss this chance. He changes his grip and aims between the protective metal plates of the armour. Jorah thrusts with full force.
*slickkk*
A wet and unpleasant sound is heard as Jorah's sword digs deep into the Ironborn's flesh, severing several arteries and veins. Nerves and other organs must have been hit too, because the Ironbron cries out loudly in pain.
"ARGH SHIT FUCK FU-"
*SHING*
Jorah swings his sword one last time and cuts the Ironborn off his head. He takes deep breaths of air into his lungs to oxygenate his muscles again and release the carbon dioxide. That is necessary to not get too tired too quickly. Something that his father told him to do, but couldn't explain why. It was Leman who told the men and women why it was important.
But there is no time to take much breathing time. From Jorah's blindspot, another Ironborn attacks him, trying to sneak attack and kill the leader of their party. Jorah hears the crack of the enemy's shoes too late. He turns around and sees an axe coming down on him. He tries to defend but ...
*Tschuk*
"AARGH!!"
An arrow hits the Ironborn in the shoulder as he is just about to kill Jorah, saving his life. Seeing this, Jorah moves forward and tackles the man to the ground, hitting his face with the handle of his sword. Then he raises his sword and brings it down, impaling the Ironborn and nailing him to the ground.
Jorah, who is covered in blood, looks around. The next attacker is already there. But his attention is not fully focused. He sees the leader of the Ironborn at the other end of the battlefield, making short work of his bears. A rather old man with white hair is cutting through his brothers and sisters like that. He is worried and is about to make his way over there when he sees something that reassures him ...
*BOOOM*
There is a loud thud as the young wolf's large stature hits the ground. Leman is here. Although Jorah is rather jealous of Leman, he can't help but smile reassuringly. Because he knows that if he's here, they've already won. So he can concentrate on his opponent.
.
Leman lands on the shore. He has already seen the state of the battlefield from the ship and knows what to do. With quick steps, not really befitting a man as big as he is, he makes his way to the first Ironborn. Leman's impact was heard by all the men and women, which was his intention. Leman's presence was a morale boost for the Bears and a break in concentration for the Ironborn.
The much smaller Ironborn screams angrily and swings his sword with all his strength towards Leman. The man uses all his strength. Pumped full of adrenaline, all his pain is suppressed and he swings his arms. As he finishes his movement, he sees Leman standing in front of him, unharmed.
"Huh?" the Ironborn is confused and takes a step back.
But just as he wants to attack again he notices something missing. His arms ... his arms are missing completely. Our body is a miracle. He didn't feel anything but as the realisation kicks in, so does the pain.
"AAAAR- ..."
*SWING*
The head of the Ironborn falls to the ground after Leman swings his sword once. His strength is out of this world. The fact that he can cut through armoured Ironborn with a normal steel sword says it all. Force is equal to acceleration * mass. Using his strength, Leman can accelerate his sword to ridiculous degrees, allowing him to cut through the chainmail with ease. But as Newton's third law tells us: action = reaction. So the force of his blows also causes his sword to suffer greatly and break very often. He is still in need of a good sword.
Leman walks forward. The kill of the Ironborn just now means nothing and is forgotten as soon as he swings his sword. The other Ironborn who saw that are perplexed and fear starts to make its way into their hearts. Despite their words 'What is dead may never die', they are cowards at heart.
"AAAH"
Another Ironborn attacks Leman. He doesn't even turn around and simply cuts him deep into the shoulder. His sword gets stuck, but that doesn't stop him from moving forward. The body of the dead Ironborn is being dragged behind him since his sword is stuck inside his body. But Leman doesn't care at all. Like getting rid of blood, he pushes the body off his sword.
More and more men attack him, but after the fifth Ironborn dies, Leman's sword breaks. He looks at it with disdain. Thinking that this was their chance, the Ironborn rush towards him, shouting more profanities and insulting Leman's mother and whatnot. He doesn't care. They will all die anyway. Using the former longsword like a throwing knife, Leman throws it at the first Ironborn. The force of the throw, makes the broken sword cut through the armour and through his entire body ...
But the brutality is not over yet. Leman catches the arm of another Ironborn and breaks it with ease. Like it was made of sticks, he folds the arm and uses the Ironborn as a baseball bat, swatting away the flies that are the Ironborn. Gore and blood splat all over the battlefield, painting a bloody picture.
Necks are broken, bodies almost ripped in half and torsos punched through with his fist ... after a short moment, Leman arrives in front of the Leader of the Ironborn.
The rather old white-haired man stands proudly in front of Leman. Arrogance is what is visible in his demeanour.
"I am Sigfryd Silverhair. Master of Harlaw Hall. I must admit that you are a strong one. 'What is dead, may never- ... kkackk"
His words are cut off as a large paw grabs his throat and slowly lifts him into the air. Sigfryd struggles and punches as hard as he can, but it changes nothing.
"The executioner will come for the Iron Islands. The Old Way will die."
*Krack*
The neck of Sigfryd Harlaw, called Sigfryd Silverhair is snapped and he falls to the ground ... dead. The fight against the Ironborn, was over.
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Sorry for the late update, but the University kept me busy. I'll update the next chapter sooner through. I hope you like it.
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