Ser Satin Mudd's arms shook as he gripped the sword fastened to his waist. He prayed to the gods Old and New to protect him this day so that he may return to the warm embrace of his wife. His wife was expecting and she may give birth any day now. Instead of being there for her, he was at the forefront of the war.
Satin cursed the Ironborn for starting this whole mess. If it wasn't for them, he'd be in his modest holdfast instead of hiding amongst the trees on this sunny day. He'd have been most likely collecting taxes from the villages for Lord Mallister.
Since the burning of the Lannister fleet, Seagard has been preparing for an Ironborn attack. Lord Mallister had readied his meagre fleet and had brought the coasts as much time to properly face the Ironborn threat head-on. The Mallister fleet now lay broken beneath the waves but those brave men certainly brought the Riverlands time to raise enough men to defend their lands.
They were still recovering from the fires of the Rebellion. Even so, there were brave men ready to take up arms just as the generation before had done so.
Satin's own father had fought in the Rebellion only to lose his life at the Trident. He had been forbidden to join his father as he had yet to earn his knighthood.
Six years later this was no longer the case. Satin served Lord Jason Mallister most dutifully just as his ancestors have done in the past. His vaunted ancestor was just a common soldier from the North. Just a mere mounted soldier sworn to House Dustin who was blessed by the gods Old and New.
Barrow was the name of his ancestor.
Satin's ancestor was part of the Northern army that crossed into the Riverlands under Cregan Stark for the Black Queen during the Dance of Dragons. In a twist of fate, his ancestor saved the life of Desmond Mallister's second son in a battle.
For this, his ancestor was given a knighthood, a plot of land and Lord Desmond's natural born daughter as wife. This was how House Mudd was born and since then the knights of House Mudd had served the Lords of Seagard in protecting the coasts from Ironborn reavers, bandits and other miscreants looking to break the peace.
"Ser Satin, longships are approaching!"
A scout precipitously called out to their company.
There were fifty men under his command and a better part of them was quite tired from riding along the coasts in rotating patrols. Ever since the war began, they have been riding all across the land to keep peace and evacuating the villages nearby to the coasts. It has been tiresome work but Satin was proud to say he worked with good men.
They had carried out Lord Jason's command and probably saved the lives of many innocent smallfolk. The Riverlands could ill afford to lose more hardworking smallfolk lest there would be hardly any hands to work the fields. Oftentimes, it is the innocent that suffers in the war and far too many had fallen when they deposed the Mad Dragon and his rapist heir from the Iron Throne.
"Are there any smallfolk living near the shores?" he asked the scout.
"No, Ser."
"Are you sure lad? The smallfolk can be stubborn and may have refused to move from their homes. These Ironborn won't be as considerate as our men. They will rape the woman and spirit them off to their barren rocks to serve as glorified slaves."
"No ser. I'm sure we had all the people moved to safer locations."
Satin nodded at the scout. Now that he knew for sure there were no innocents in his way he could spring the trap on those reaving lunatics without worry.
"You hear that men. It looks like we will be wetting the sands of our coasts with Ironborn blood. Let's go kill those rapist thugs!"
That was more than enough words to rile up the mm to a frenzy. No one here was ignorant of the Ironborn and their reputation. Failure meant the desolation of their homeland and most of the men Satin was leading had families to protect. They could ill afford to let these Ironborn establish a foothold in these lands.
Satin led the men towards the beach still under the cover of trees. In the distance, they could make out the Ironborn longships as well as the small rafts carrying readers abound for the shores.
"I count four longships in the distance Ser." said the scout.
"Aye. If we wait too long more Ironborn will take positions." he mused looking at the disembarking enemy.
Satin led his men out from the trees. He only had eight mounted men including himself. The rest were all peasant soldiers and among them only ten archers. Most of the men were in Seagard fending off the attack from Greyjoys.
Got to work with what I have rather than what I'd prefer, he thought grimly.
He rode at the front leading the men. He had the archers stay back and pin down the Ironborn with arrows from higher ground. It also meant he'd have the advantage in the initial bout.
And he was proven right when his men cut through the disorganised enemy who was running around trying to avoid arrows.
Satin took the life of an Ironborn cleaving the head off with his sword. It was his first kill in this war and soon he was in the thick of the battle.
An axe-wielding maniac tried to bring him down from his horse but he smashed that fool's head with the flat of his sword. It was completely unintentional as he was aiming to cut the man's neck. Satin's mistake notwithstanding, the Ironborn remained disoriented and his horse it'd seem didn't like the Ironborn one bit. His horse surged ahead and kicked the Ironborn with his hind legs. The distant crack of bones and the scream the Ironborn let out made him aware that his horse had done his work for him.
"Good boy. Now, let's kill the rest of them." he whispered to his horse and so continued the carnage.
Despite being a small battle Satin took in the smell of blood, piss and shit. Men were screaming in pain or in fear. Some were screaming for no reason at all and was just hacking away at long-dead enemies in a frenzy. Despite the lack of quality of his men, Satin stood victorious on the beach. When the last Ironborn died he let out a victorious cry that was taken up by his men.
At that moment, he felt like he could fight a hundred battles and win all of them.
Despite the euphoria that was filling his body he took note that the longships were lowering more rafts filled to the brim with more Ironborn.
"We need more archers. Archers!"
He called out and to his surprise, two horns blew from the east as if answering his call.
The tree lines rumbled and from them emerged a large army. Men poured in from the treelines carrying the direwolf banner. Rows and rows of horses, archers and simple soldiers poured out in droves. Leading them was a black armoured figure on a black steed that seemed to suck out the very light itself.
A large number of archers poured into the beach and began raining death on the Ironborn.
Satin noted that very few rafts survived the Northmen's assault. Those that survived had the good sense to turn around and take their leave. Those that tried to brave the arrows were now probably with their Drowned God.
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The black armoured figure removed his helmet and Satin immediately knew this was the Quiet Wolf. He had only met the Lord of Winterfell once and that was when Lady Catelyn wed the Northern lord at Riverrun. He wouldn't forget the face of Eddard Stark as it was also the last day he spoke to his father.
The Lord of Winterfell hadn't changed much in the years since the wedding. The man still sported a thick beard and he felt a primal fear by looking into those judging grey eyes. It felt like he was being studied and the feeling did not sit well with him.
"Lord Stark. I'm Ser Satin Mudd, a knight sworn to Lord Jason Mallister."
"Well met Ser. Any word from Seagard?" asked the Lord of Winterfell.
The voice in contrast to the looks of the Northern lord was far softer. Perhaps, that's why men call the man the Quiet Wolf.
"The last I had word, Lord Mallister was pinned down in his castle with repeated attacks from the Greyjoy fleet." he reported. Far be it from him to show disrespect to a Lord Paramount especially when said Lord commanded a large army.
"In that case, we would help Lord Jason. Will you join us Ser?"
Satin perked up at the offer. He thought the Northerners would just leave them here.
"I would be happy to accompany you, my lord. But the Ironborn…"
"I will leave some of my men to guard the shores. We would appreciate someone more knowledgeable of the shoreline. It'd ease my men to traverse these lands."
"Of course, my lord. I'd be happy to help."
With his admittance into the Northmen's army, he was a bit happy. He knew the real fight was not going to be on some unknown beach. The real fight was going to be where the high lords of Westeros would gather. And that's where Satin preferred to be so that he may earn favours for his family. It also helped to be in the company of a large army. The chances for him to return to his wife was looking up for the moment.
As Lord Stark began barking out orders to his troops Satin noted a peculiar detail. The black armour the Lord of Winterfell was wearing looked so smooth and shiny. He felt self-conscious wearing his less than stellar armour but it was to be expected, he supposed. He was just a no-name knight in a backwater place while Lord Stark ruled an entire kingdom and was the lord of one of the largest castles in Westeros. There was bound to be differences in the quality of steel between them. Even so, he didn't feel like it was the trick of the light but he was sure he took note of the rippling pattern etched on the armour plate.
Shaking away such thoughts he instead began concentrating on gathering his own men and having the wounded treated by some of the healers the Northerners brought.
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Jason Mallister felt the weight of the last few days on his bones. He was so tired and felt like he would keel over any moment. For days and nights, he had toiled without rest to keep Seagard out of the hands of those barbarians from the Iron Islands. At long last, after weeks of resisting the Ironborn attacks, he had managed to finally expel the Ironborn with the aid of his brave men.
A great toll has been extracted from him in this war. He lost many of his family. He lost uncles and nephews in this war but it was a price worth paying as he had managed to keep the Ironborn from gaining a steady footing. If they had done so, he shuddered to think what would have happened.
There was no Aegon the Conqueror to teach these filth fear. The dragons have all died when Robert Baratheon caved in the Last Dragon's chest at the Trident. The Lannister fleet burning at Lannisport was the first sign of the kingdoms unravelling at the seams. If Robert Baratheon fails to crush this rebellion he was sure the Targaryen loyalists will become a problem. Dorne was also going to intervene as they are hungry to shed the blood of those who took part in the butchering of their Princess.
This was one of the reasons why Lord Tully has pulled some of the lords to concentrate on gathering at Harrenhall. There was a strong chance the Targaryen loyalists might rebel in the absence of King Robert and the Royal Fleet. If that was the case, it was better to be prepared as southern Riverlands would be the first to act. Similarly, the Gulltown fleet has been charged to guard the Narrow Seas.
Jason could see an uncomfortable tension gripping Westeros. It looks like the kingdoms were once again looking into the abyss of war and destruction. If King Robert failed to crush this rebellion his tenuous hold on the throne might weaken. And that was a situation Jason was not looking forward to.
Hence, receiving this particular guest had to be done despite his personal tragedies or exhaustion.
"Announcing Lord Eddard Stark, the Warden of the North and Lord of Winterfell."
The herald proclaimed and in came the Lord of Winterfell, striding in with a powerful presence. Gone was the young boy who was new to the position of Lordship six years past. In his stead, there was a true Stark of Winterfell. Jason could feel the confidence with which the Lord of Winterfell carried himself.
"Lord Stark. Please accept the hospitality of House Mallister." Jason opened with the pleasantries offering bread and salt.
"Lord Mallister. It'd be my pleasure."
As the guest rights were given Jason took note of the gleaming armour the Lord of Winterfell was wearing. Rumours had reached even his ears of the Valyrian Steel armour the Lord of Winterfell possessed. He had considered them rumours and talk of misguided smallfolk. But, giving a closer look he confirmed the validity of those rumours.
"The Starks have always been held in great regard in Seagard since the Dance of Dragons. Your late brother Brandon Stark, bless his soul, was a friend of House Mallister. My family bled for him under the unjust heels of the Mad King." said Jason as he shook hands with Lord Stark.
"Many good men died under the Mad King…honourable men." Lord Eddard said grimly.
"It'd seem we are to go to war once again, my lord."
"Aye."
Jason could hear the exhaustion in Lord Stark's tone and he doubted it was solely because of the journey.
"Any word from King's Landing?" Lord Eddard asked as Jason led the Northern lord to better lodgings while his sworn lords and knights welcomed other Northern lords.
"Lord Jon Arryn holds the city together. The Knights of the Vale will be riding out of the Bloody Gate to strengthen the capital. The Gulltown fleet guards the Narrow Sea just in case any dragon loyalists decide to break the King's peace." Jason told what he knew which was not much. Lord Hoster and Lord Arryn were keeping everything suppressed in the Crownlands. If there was a rebellion the two had ensured it will be snuffed out in quick order.
"What about Robert?" asked Lord Eddard.
"The King has ridden straight to Casterly Rock while Lord Stannis has sailed the Royal Fleet around Dorne. It is hoped the Royal Fleet will join the Redwyne Fleet and together they'd drive the Iron Fleet back to their dreary Islands."
"You have certainly done exceedingly well in defending the Riverlands, my lord. We missed the battle by a few days it'd seem."
Jason grimly chuckled. "We Riverlanders know what it means to be under the yoke of Ironborn. We fought to the last man and the Ironborn were tough but when I slew Rodrik Greyjoy they fled instead of continuing the fight."
"Well, that is a surprise. We could hope Balon sees the error of his ways with one of his son's death."
Jason snorted. "I doubt that, my lord. Balon is a stubborn fool with delusions of restoring the Old Ways of reaving and raping." said Jason, eyeing the armour Eddard Stark was wearing with great interest. "I was not aware House Stark holds a Valyrian Steel suit of armour?"
"We didn't. It is a recent addition." said Lord Eddard sparking Jason's curiosity.
Not even the Targaryens possessed a full suit of armour made out of Valyrian Steel. There are rumours that the purebloods of Volantis possess such relics but he doubted their claim. If one of the forty dragonlord families does not possess such expensive relics of the Freehold then he doubted some bunch of merchants possess these precious relics.
Ever since the Doom, there have been no new Valyrian Steel objects in the world. To his knowledge, only the smiths of Qohor possess the ability to rework Valyrian Steel. Seeing as most surviving Valyrian Steel relics are swords and daggers he found it odd that House Stark possessed a full suit of armour. He knew the Starks possessed a Valyrian Steel greatsword named Ice. Maybe the Starks had more Valyrian Steel lying around in their ancient castle than that was led to believe.
"I've heard rumours that there are two more Valyrian Steel swords as well. Please do indulge my curiosity, my lord. With bleak days ahead of us your new Valyrian Steel collection is something of a strange event that distracts me from darker thoughts and deeds."
Perhaps it was his heartfelt plea for something else to bother his mind rather than the grim realities of war that made Lord Stark spill the source of his Valyrian Steel. Either way, he could only see truth shining in the man's eyes as the Lord of Winterfell spoke of his gifted second son. If it was anyone else, he'd have thought them a charlatan for claiming their children could produce Valyrian Steel. But, this was Eddard Stark and the man did possess a lot of Valyrian Steel. He didn't know what to think at this point.
On one hand, he felt the urge to see this lad who unearthed the secrets of a lost art. But, questions surfaced in his curious mind of how a boy of six namesdays managed to replicate the greatest work of a long lost people. The boy didn't even possess a smudge of Valyrian blood in his veins.
So, how come a Stark of all people managed to reproduce Valyria's greatest secret technique when those of Valyrian blood had fallen short all these years? It was a query he was sure might remain unanswered for a time. But that doesn't mean he was going to waste such an opportunity to pass. He was going to meet this lad and perhaps even commission a sword for himself as soon as he secured the funds for such a purchase.
Jason wasn't quite aware but his Maester was within hearing distance. Not just the Maester but many servants as well. By noon, rumours began to wildly circulate from Seagard. Even a raven took flight to the deep south where those who claim dominance over verity sat assured in their wisdom and accumulated knowledge. And so spun the wheel of fate that governed the chaos of mortal life with utter disregard to the consequences that'd emerge in the near future.