Ned X & Viserys V (AC 289)

Ned X

The last time Ned Stark had seen Dornish pikemen had been the Trident. Ten thousand men under Prince Lewyn Martell had fought for Rhaegar Targaryen and they had fought well. Had Rhaegar not fallen beneath Robert's warhammer, breaking the loyalist morale, many a northern home would have lost a son or brother that now live - in many cases to fight along side those same pikemen.

A landing was even more dangerous than embarking an army, with the prospect that they might be attacked from shore as well as sea. Robert had wanted to lead the landing himself and only been dissuaded when Ned reminded him that the Dornish, wearing only light armour, would be the first ashore. It might not be likely that any of them would do Robert injury but there was no point taking that chance.

Instead, Robert was busying himself overseeing the King's Men as they quickly hoisted rafts of barrels and timbers out over the sides of ships and began securing them together into a floating pier. With the Dornish men anchoring the structure at one end it would be faster to unload the rest of the army than the use of small boats that had been required in the early stages.

Robert rode on a carrack but Ned had been curious enough to accept the offer to travel on Silence. Now her captain crossed the deck, boots thumping the deck like a larger man.

"It's a clever idea," Tyrion Lannister said with an illustrative look at the pier. "I wouldn't want to try walking it myself even if I was sober, but it might get your men ashore in time."

"In time for what?"

"Signallers on the shore reported a party of horsemen riding for the Ten Towers. The Harlaws know we're here and Lord Rodrik Harlaw is not accounted a fool. His best chance of breaking us is here."

"We have forty thousand men, I doubt the Iron Isles have that many men armed in total."

Tyrion nodded sharply. "Oh indeed, but we have only a fifth of the men ashore even now and the Harlaws are a strong house I'm told."

"Strong enough." Ned glowered towards the shore. "Then we should disembark more quickly. Do you have any suggestions?"

Tyrion shook his head and pointed to a handful of captured longships that were sculling awkwardly towards the shore. "That was my own best thought and the King has put it into practise already."

There were Reach colours on the men pulling the oars, Ned realised. "Why aren't sailors rowing?"

"Every sailor rowing is one less man at arms ashore," Tyrion explained. "There won't be anyone left aboard the longships - or not enough to get them back offshore to us - but it's another thousand or so men on the beach instead of a third so many."

"I see. It'll slow downloading in the long run though, compared to having them go back and forth."

"What matters more, Prince Stark? Getting the whole army ashore or getting enough ashore to repel a counter-attack?"

"You have a point." Ned rubbed his beard. "You're not quite what I expected."

There was an edge to Tyrion's laugh. "Well, I'll keep surprising you."

"Concentrate on surprising the Greyjoys for now," Ned told him. "I'd better get ashore myself. If the Ironborn are going to try to push us back, my place is there."

The Lannister glanced over to the rafts being manhandled. "I'll have us rowed over to the pier. By the time we get there, you should be able to walk ashore without... well -" He saw one raft tip and two of the King's Men - fortunately not wearing their usual armour - were tipped into the water. "- almost without getting your feet wet."

The Silence didn't exactly live up to its name - the rowers kept rhythm with song that seemed to have an endless string of verses, each more obscene than the last. Their captain seemed quite enthusiastic about singing this with them. Despite this they didn't reach the pier before Robert did.

"I'll see you on the beach, Ned," the King called, balancing on the rocking boards.

"Shouldn't one of us stay with the ships?"

"You can if you want!" Robert waved for the handful of Royal Guard with him - and his squire - to follow him. "I'm getting on dry land no matter what!"

"I wouldn't want to be them if they fall off the pier," Tyrion noted as the Silence backed water for a moment and barely avoided grazing the flimsy rafts. "If there's enough water for the Silence to float then there's more than enough for them to drown."

Ned looked down at the pier and then at the ships closing in to disembark their own loads of soldiers. "Someone has to keep all this in order."

"Well you're the Prince of the North and Prince Stannis is the Master of Ships -" Tyrion broke off as Ned glared at him. The dwarf hammered his chest. "I'm a galley captain," he shouted

"Stannis has to worry about Ironborn ships." Ned scrambled over the side of the Silence and dropped onto the pier next to Rodrik Cassell, who had gone ahead. "And I need to keep our king alive. I'm trusting you!"

"Oh." Tyrion heaved himself up to look down over the bulwark. "Well that makes everything alright, doesn't it."

Ned considered drawing Ice in salute to the little man, then realised that if he tripped he could send his family's ancestral sword to the bottom of the sea. Better wait until he was nearer the shore. "You're said to be clever. Prove it."

Then more soldiers started spilling onto the pier and Ned had to start moving along the rafts towards the shore.

Viserys V

Viserys was told later that the Ironborn had only numbered five thousand at most, more than half of them small-folk armed with whatever the Harlaws could find at the back of their armouries.

It hadn't felt like that. It hadn't felt like that at all.

Under his armour, he felt like one big bruise. And for all that he'd fallen well behind Robert Baratheon and the Royal Guards. Somewhere along the way he'd gotten focused on fighting one particular Ironborn with an axe and better armour than the rest. He'd beaten him in the end but when he looked around the usurper and his guards were out of view.

Rather than try to find them, Viserys had attached himself to the retinue of the Karstarks, fighting on the flank of the Dornish pike-line and seen out the battle with them.

His sword was red.

I'm a warrior now. I've killed men...

With a gasp, Viserys tore off his helm and threw up. He didn't care who saw him in that moment, only to let that acidic gorge explode out of him, along with sobs.

There had been a mix of fear and exultation before but now, afterwards, he could feel a growing emptiness. Any of these bodies could have been mine, he thought, looking at the dying and the gasping, crying wounded lying side by side. It wouldn't even have needed to be a plot to remove me, just sheer chance...

"There you are!"

Looking up he saw Robert Baratheon, golden surcoat stained in blood, great antler helm gripped in the same fist that supported the man's hammer. Eddard Stark stood with him, quietly wiping the blade of the Valyrian greatsword he bore.

Viserys tried to hide his state, wipe away his face but the usurper handed off both his burdens to Jorah Mormont and produced a rag from his belt to offer him. "The bards lie about this too," he said quietly. "There would be something wrong with you if you didn't feel like this on your first battlefield."

"You didn't," Eddard observed. He inspected his sword and then thrust it into the scabbard across his back.

Robert shook his head. "It hit me later. My blood was still up back then."

"You never told me." The northerner seemed startled. Almost disappointed.

"I was young and foolish. You were coping and I didn't want to be the one who wasn't. By the time I realised I was being an idiot, it had been long enough it hardly seemed to matter."

Jorah Mormont cleared his throat. "Your grace, you realise you bordered on going berserk out there?"

The look on Robert's face was chagrinned. "I thought I kept it under control."

"I'm from Bear Island. We know berserkers. If they can't hang onto themselves we send them north of the wall, lest they endanger everyone around them."

Viserys stepped away from Robert, which earned him wry look from the man. "So am I that bad, Ser Jorah?"

"No, you're manageable. But we're going to have to rethink how we defend you on the battlefield." He looked at at Ser Gerion. "And we'll need more Royal Guards, I think."

"Perhaps, instead of a tournament, we could pick knights who've shown their worth in this war. If we can find seven suitable men..."

"You have my permission," Robert told them. "And you can draw on the Easterland levies to form another company of King's Men if you see fit. We've probably got some time - the next stage of the war is to besiege the Ten Towers and get the rest of Harlaw under our control."

"And Pyke?" asked Lord Stark.

"That's Tywin Lannister's problem. Right now we just need to get established here and let Stannis get back to ferrying the Army of the West." Robert took his hammer back. "We probably only need to worry about the larger islands but there are a lot of castles to siege. It's a good thing it's not later in the summer - chances are that they don't have a huge reserve of food."

"They might manage to resupply by sea," warned Gerion Lannister.

"I have an idea or two in mind for that." The usurper looked over at Viserys. "Remember what the King's Men are trained for?"

"To guard the royal family?"

"No, to defend King's Landing and its fortifications. The fact that that this also protects my family is a benefit but that's all. And if they can protect a castle then they would surely know how to best take one. They'd better, at least, or I've wasted a lot of gold on their training and equipment."