First Steps

Marching through the castle Helder observed the looks of the servants, all of them a mixture of disappointment and doubt. It looked that not many people put their faith in him to rule the Banefort lands as King, if he wanted to change that he would have much work to do.

Arriving at his father's solar he knocked on the door and awaited the permission to enter, after he was acknowledged he passed through the door, he observed the surroundings, a comfortable but humble room filled with books and some furniture, in the central table King Corban was writing a letter, he wrote for some time, not minding his son at all.

"Father, I came here to ask about the task" said Helder, but more silence followed.

"I just want to know how much you can spare, I plan to…" but as he was speaking the King interrupted.

"If your mother knew the disappointment you became, she would be shattered" such an answer would have caused a reaction on a common man, but Helder held little feeling for the woman whom he never met.

"Helder, I'm old, and your uncle is encroaching my throne, I know that I don't have many years left to live, so this is the moment to you either become a man or die, our enemies will not spare you, I don't want my line to perish with you"

The situation was quite dire it seemed, but the humiliation was unwarranted and only served to let anger simmer within him.

He looked his father in his eyes and with a cold tone he said "How many men can you pay, your grace".

The King looked back surprised by the reaction, but not showing it outwards, usually his son was meek and a coward, but nonetheles he replied. "Three hundred at most, not that you can find that many willing to serve you, now go, I've already lost too much time with you".

Helder went away and fulfilled his duties as a prince, managing some light work within the castle, not anything remarkable, after all he did not have that much power to make big change, for now at least.

The time passed slowly and now it was night, Helder was laying on his bed, thinking about the day ahead, it did not take long for him to fall asleep, he had weird dreams of being a bear, ripping a dear apart, he felt the metallic taste of blood on his mouth.

Light was shining through the windows and soon he woke up, Helder remembered the wargs, people that could control animals, and if strong enough they could control many and maybe even humans, usually these people had weird dreams like the Starks and their wolf dreams.

He did not much time by himself as once more the servant brought him his breakfast, and soon he was again in the courtyard, despite the sun bathing everything, the place was cold and unwelcoming.

After gathering the men assigned to him the day before he ordered them to stay in line and said. "Men, gather your gear and take fresh horses, soon we will head to the nearest town, I will just say this one time, unruliness will not be tolerated."

Most of them were surprised by the prince assertiveness, but none complained, nobles were fickle things after all.

As he finished speaking the men dispersed, and some time later they were back, most were carrying swords and shields, and somewhere carrying spears and axes, none wearing full plate armor, it seemed that at this time in history, this custom was not fully developed. After all despite being in the Westerlands they were First Men, who followed the Old Gods, there were no Andals who loved chivalry and smithing, yet.

Eleven men set out of Banefort, taking the muddy path north, it took no more than two days to reach the nearest settlement that could be called a town, and its name was Bonifer's Keep, where a minor nobleman ruled the area.

Something was off, smoke was billowing in the distance, and the palisade gate was open. There was no movement outside the town.

As soon as he saw this, Helder commanded his men to draw their weapons, tie the horses, and follow him.

Silently they approached the town, sounds of struggle could be heard in the distance, but they were not that intense. Not knowing the situation well, Helder called upon the lankiest of his men, a guard by the name of Lark who was a good scout, and commanded him to go closer to the town and assess the situation.

Not wasting time, the man only nodded and set off, soon he was near the wall and nimbly climbed it, when he got to the top he simply jumped on the roof of a nearby house who looked sturdy enough to support him.

He looked around and spotted at least fifteen ironborn gathered on the central square, with at least thirty men tied sitting in front of them, he was close so he could hear their conversation, in an accent that to him sounded disgusting.

"Captain you said that It would be easy, we lost at least ten men to these weaklings" said an unremarkable underling wearing the typical garments of the ironborn.

"How could I know that there were so many of this trash here, usually they don't struggle that much" replied the Captain, a man tall and broad with the appearance of a dirty pirate, wearing light armor and a bloodied axe in his hip.

Beside the Captain was a tied sack that moved from time to time, and each time it moved the man would kick it.

Being sure that it was all the information he could gather Lark once more scaled the walls and came back to report on the situation.