Chapter 101: Act 2: Chapter 39

Twenty-first day, Sixth Moon, 260 AC (+7 days)

Ryden POV

I heaved forward with all my might, pushing my shield against the man opposite of me. The pirate gave as good as he got, and with a mighty push, he forced me a step back. He swung his axe down low at my legs, but I went high to end the fight, thrusting my sword into his face.

He fell, like a puppet with his strings cut, and my legs were left bruised, and the grieves dented, but I was otherwise fine. Without pausing, I turned to help the man beside me with his opponent, and together we finished him off as well, but before I could reassess the situation more pirates rushed me, and I lost myself to the rhythm of fighting.

The clash of our forces was relentless. Men pushed and were pushed. Spears thrust and blood drawn. Swords and axes swung, and shields blocked. It didn't matter who was in front of you, all that was needed was a quick look to see their kit, and lessons that had been drilled in for years took charge. But our momentum was ever forward. Sometimes men with spears would help to disengage a little, as those without shied away, other times it was arrows that disrupted the enemy and resumed the fight.

Seconds, minutes, or hours later, I noticed the press of men started to lessen a second before the enemy started to flee before us. The men around me rallied at the sight, and with a loud, bloodthirsty cheer, they began to surge forward. I followed, exhausted, but the promise of victory surged through my veins as we chased them. A few of the pirates managed to clump together in their retreat, fighting off their pursuers, but it was merely a delaying tactic and one that would not save them.

A pirate in front of me tripped, and I raced forward, stabbing my sword in his back, pinning the man to the ground as he screamed. He went silent as I bent down and sliced his neck with my dagger. By the time I stood up, a horn was bellowing, calling for our halt. The men around me were confused, but the telltale tremors on the ground told me what was to come. I flipped open my visor to have a better view and watched the spectacle.

Our small number of mounted knights emerged from view from around a hill to the right flank, where they had lain waiting, and thundered toward to fleeing enemy, running over the stragglers with ease. Their lances gleamed before them, ready to part the fleeing pirates like a ship parts the waters on a calm lake. Like a rising tide, they washed away the opposition before them.

One of the pirate captains seemed to have a clue and began to gather men to him, trying to form up and stop the cavalry. Like me, many of the pirates lacked a good, long weapon to deter the cavalry, as I had lost mine near the start of the battle – broken or dropped, I could not remember. Still, he gathered enough men and spears to form a basic circle that the knights flowed around, rather than throwing themselves onto the spear points.

Our archers moved forward to pelt the cluster of pirates, and I could see my House's banner amongst the others. The rest of the pirates fled where they could – the nearby jungle, down the road, into the hills – essentially wherever we were not. The knights rode them down with impunity, and I shuddered to think of the death toll from this battle. Some, seeing their situation, possessed the wits to throw down their arms and surrender, hoping for the best.

As the adrenaline faded, I struggled to stay on my feet, as it felt like my suit of armor was filled with sweat, but I could not falter. I had asked Lord Stark to be placed with his men-at-arms on the front line, where there was glory and honor to be obtained, and if I embarrassed myself, he would send me away. As I struggled with my exhaustion, Arthur and the rest of the archers sent volley after volley into the remaining pirate holdouts. Before long, I could see a white makeshift flag being waved above the pirates.

I was too far to hear what was said between the pirate captain and Lord Stark, but I saw when the pirate unbuckled his scabbard and handed it to Lord Stark. The pirates began to throw down their weapons dejectedly, and Lord Stark motioned to his captains and other lords to take the pirates prisoner.

Our second battle of the island was complete.

Xxxx

I stood in the tent with the other Northern nobility, and unlike the meeting on Dragonstone, I took a more prominent position. My House's position demanded a level of respect, even if it was new, and now that I was blooded, I could make sure that I claimed it.

"We won a decisive victory today, my lords," said Lord Stark. "With that, I believe the rest of the island shall fall quickly. The pirates gathered as many as they could to oppose us, stripping the rest of the holdings on this side of the island bare."

"Do we know how many they ended up gathering?" asked Lord Karstark.

"Reports from our scouts, corroborated with prisoners and our own estimates from the battle, I estimate that they had around 6,000 men to our 4,500. We crushed them, killing around 700 men in the battle itself and another 2,300 afterwards. Another 2,500 were taken prisoner."

"What are we doing with the prisoners, Lord Stark?" asked Lord Flint of Widow's Watch.

"I have arranged with the King to allow any slaver scum to choose between death and the Wall," replied Lord Stark.

Murmurs went around the room. That was a lot of people going to the Night's Watch.

"How will the Watch feed all these people?" asked Lord Umber. "They struggle enough already."

"Not all of the prisoners will be given that choice. Some of the prisoners belong to the villages on the island and are mere fisherfolk pressed into fighting. They will be given a choice between kneeling and pledging fealty to the King or death. The new lords of the Stepstones will need their smallfolk."

Lord Umber nodded. "Aye, I can see that. Still, a lot of people heading to the Wall. Will these Essosi even treat the Watch with respect?"

"I've discussed it with the Lord Commander, and they will likely be given posts inland at Castle Black, or Deep Lake might be reopened again as well, and the scum sent there."

"Still, they will need food," insisted Lord Umber. "I do not have more to send the Watch."

"Do not worry about the food," replied Lord Stark. The merest flicker of his eyes toward me told me he was thinking of my father's machines. "That issue will sort itself out soon enough." The rest of the nobility all nodded, though for different reasons. The ones closest to my House figured that Lord Stark was talking about the new machines, while the rest likely thought the King or Lord Stark would be giving more.

"And how will the Night's Watch ensure that there is no rebellion among the Essosi? I don't want to see a repeat of the rebellion from the Faith Militant."

Lord Stark nodded. "The Lord Commander and I have already discussed this. He plans to expand the role of the Stewards to mining as well. There are a few mines that the Watch has abandoned over the years as they have shrunk that the Lord Commander means to see opened once again. Having these Essosi toil there, without weapons, will diminish the risk of rebellion. Having them far inland also means that if they run, they can be easily caught."

Lord Umber nodded at the sensible precautions, and no other lords took issue with the plans.

"Now," continued Lord Stark, "we will continue to finish taking the rest of the island, but Lord Baratheon has also indicated that he wants some of our forces to split and to take the small island to the south of us as well."

Lord Umber squinted at the map. "Does that little speck even have a name?"

Lord Stark chuckled. "Aye, it is called Little Stone. Luckily, Prince Aerys has requested to go, though Ser Thorne will take charge of their contingent since Prince Aerys is still his squire."

"Why do I feel there is a second part to this?" asked Lord Cerwyn.

Lord Stark smiled thinly. "For the sake of unity, Lord Baratheon wants it to be a mixed force, so we will need to send a delegation."

The assembled lords looked at each other out of the corner of their eyes. Lord Umber asked, "What's on the island?"

"There are three fortified fishing villages that reportedly all belong to a single pirate gang."

"A successful one?" asked Lord Karstark hopefully.

"I don't know but judging by the size of the island; probably not."

Still, none volunteered, and I could see why - it was fighting for little gain. Fishing villages had little in the way of coin, and if the pirates were smart, they would leave with their gold well before we got there. Still, the prospect of fighting with the Royal Prince was a heavy lure. Closer relations with the Throne would be good for House Ragnar, both monetarily and socially.

"House Ragnar will go," I said into the silence. "I don't know if we are large enough to be considered enough of a delegation, but we will go."

Lord Stark looked at me, appraisingly. "That should be a large enough delegation – a token force is all we need. I will tell the Prince and Ser Thorne." I nodded. "Now, onto other matters," continued Lord Stark. "Word has arrived from the other army: Grey Gallows has been captured, and the southern fleet is already continuing to Killer Cove. Resistance was light on Grey Gallows – lighter than here on Bloodstone, so the army swept through easily. Lord Baratheon has indicated that he believes that many of the pirates abandoned Grey Gallows and will instead make their stand on Killer Cove."

"Might they not flee instead, Lord Stark?" asked Lord Cerwyn.

"It is possible, but the Master of Whispers believes that existing feuds between the pirates have them with little where else to go. The pirates that belong to the Band of Nine have many enemies among the pirates here in the Stepstones so the pirates won't find refuge there. They could flee toward Lys and Volantis, but they risk being pressed into the war – to say nothing of giving up their dens in the Stepstones and the gold they can get from choking trade in this area. Instead, the Master of Whispers has indicated that the pirates are planning on forming their own pact, but he doesn't have any details yet. I assume they plan to band together like the Nine did and try to drive us off and secure the Stepstones for themselves – while also denying the Band of Nine their aims in the region."

Swallowing my nerves, I asked, "I assume that means we will face more resistance on Peak Island?"

Lord Stark nodded. "As far as the pirates are concerned, I believe so. The Nine have yet to redeploy any men to the Stepstones, but we expect that to change soon enough. If that is all my lords, I shall let you go back to your men for the night and celebrate our victory."

Xxxx

The campfire lit up the immediate area, as night had fallen hours ago, and the moon hidden behind clouds. A dark night.

The mood around the campfire was no different, as just Arthur and I sat around it, watching the fire slowly die as Donovar had already gone to sleep and the rest of our men were at their own fire. Merriment from the rest of the camp could be heard, as the rest of the army was exuberant after their latest victory, and over the course of the night, I even heard a rendition of 'Running with the Wolves', which was weird to hear outside of Redbridge.

Arthur sighed as he poked the fire. "This whole thing still isn't what I expected it to be."

I didn't say anything – I didn't need to.

"I've trained for so long and so hard, and I wanted to challenge myself. To challenge others, to struggle, and to become victorious. Instead, we slaughter a bunch of pirates and misfits. Hardly the struggle or glorious challenge it was supposed to be."

"Dad told us it wouldn't be like the stories."

"I know, I know. I knew it wouldn't be like the stories, but I still expected more from this. I don't want to hurt these poor bastards."

"Even the slavers?" I asked, chuckling.

"Except them," Arthur replied. I couldn't see it, but I was sure he was rolling his eyes. "They deserve what's coming to them." We were silent again, and as a log gave a loud pop, Arthur said, "I'm sure it will be better when we start fighting against the mercenaries. People who have trained to fight, who have dedicated most of their lives to it. A struggle and a challenge worthy of the effort."

I didn't correct him. It was something I knew my brother needed to believe. Arthur wasn't a cruel person or even a very violent one. Even as he loved learning to fight, it was more about the beauty of it to him and of what he could push himself to do. If he needed to believe that it would be worth it, I wouldn't give voice to my doubts; I would let him hold on to that belief.

"Speaking of poor bastards," Arthur continued, "I didn't want to say anything while Donovar was awake, but I don't think volunteering to go with the Prince was such a wise decision."

I looked at him puzzled. "I thought we were agreed? That we need to gain our House an improved standing from this war? No suicidal charges or idiotic maneuvers, but this is a simple, low-risk way to gain that. Lord Baratheon wouldn't place the Prince, the second person in line for the Throne, in a dangerous situation."

Arthur shook his head. "Maybe, but the Prince will be in charge."

"Ser Thorne is in charge," I replied. "The Prince is going, but not in charge. He is still a squire."

Arthur sighed as rain started to sprinkle down. "You need to listen to gossip more, Ryden. Ser Thorne is a pushover and won't gainsay the Prince. And the Prince is supposedly a dreamer – someone who thinks big."

I shrugged. "That's not a bad thing. Father is a dreamer as well. Same as Violet."

"Father is smart. He tempers his dreams and goes about them carefully. The Prince decidedly does not."

"It's a good thing he is still a squire then. Lord Stark was clear; Ser Thorne is in charge."

"And I'm telling you, you need to listen to the gossip. The Prince was supposed to be knighted already but is holding off until his friend, Tywin Lannister, can perform the ceremony. The Prince is going to be in charge."

I waved him off. "It doesn't matter. We are going to be an archer contingent, and we will do our duty. Besides, the pirates so far have shown a lack of archers, so our danger will be minimal."

Arthur leaned in and whispered, "What if he tries for a contested landing? Like in Dad's stories."

I raised an eyebrow. "You know from your lessons as well as mine, that just doesn't happen. If it gets contested, we just land elsewhere." I shrugged. "It's simple."

"Very well, maybe not that, but it could be something else. Some big idea that he dreams up."

I mocked gasped. "What - what if he tries to use a dragon? And instead of an island, we conquer the world?"

Arthur scowled. "I'm being serious."

I laughed. "No, you're not. You're channeling Dad and worrying. It won't take long to conquer this tiny island, and then we will be one step closer to fighting against the mercenaries. And besides, once this is done, we might have ingratiated ourselves to the Royal Family. That's no small thing."

He shrugged, still annoyed. "I've heard he's weird; being close to him might not be a good thing."

"Everyone is weird."

"I'm not," protested Arthur.

"Especially you."

"Fuck you too."

I grinned. "Love you too, little brother."