42: Lifting the Shroud 2
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(Daemon’s POV)
Daemon moved around the port, taking note of the men doing various jobs. While most were focused currently on scouring the buildings for coin, supplies, and weapons, some were moving anything and everything that could be used, but that wasn’t likely to be used in the coming days, outside. The reason they were doing that was because of the missive from Cregan that Daemon held in his hand, one that was delivered by Rian this morning.
The taking of the port had gone exactly as Daemon had expected, though he would have preferred if that had not been the case. Approaching with just the three war galleys and two regular galleys had convinced the men in the port that they could not win the coming battle, thus the majority of the men had chosen to run instead of staying and throwing themselves at the mercy of the attackers. Twenty pirates had been in the port when Daemon had led the first wave of men ashore, already on their knees or in the process of tossing down their weapons.
Daemon had hoped that more might have chosen to surrender, or even stand and fight as he was itching for battle, but the majority of the pirates had shown intelligence and instead chose to withdraw to Koros’ inland settlement. The ones who had surrendered had explained that not only did Koros, as expected, rule from that settlement, but that it was fortified. Cregan had already provided much in the way of intelligence on that fort – though it was more a walled village than a fort from how Cregan described it – thanks to his flights with Rian, but the fact Koros had a central, defended position from which to control the island was an issue. One that had influenced why Daemon had only attacked with five vessels instead of the full might of his fleet.
Those who ran would only report on the ships they saw, giving Koros a rough count of about four hundred men if each of the ships was close to fully crewed, which would require Koros to gather men before he could counterattack. The missive Daemon held in his hand confirmed this was the case as Cregan had seen large groups of men moving from Koros’ eastern and western ports to his capital; a clear gathering of a force designed to engage and likely overwhelm the men that Koros believed had been the entirely to take the port Daemon was now walking in.
Daemon would send a return letter to Cregan via Rian later today, once he had assessed the situation in the port more closely, and until then the Sunfyre eagle was resting aboard the Howl, using the rigging as a perch from which to watch the comings and goings of the men. Daemon knew the bird disliked acting as a raven, but from how Cregan described it, Rian disliked even more when Cregan used gulls for anything related to flight.
The Howl, along with most of the fleet, was anchored slightly out to sea as the dock of this port was barely long enough for four galleys to moor at, and as he was not going to risk beaching any of his warships simply to make for easier transporting of goods to or from the vessels, the fleet had to maintain its distance and ferry supplies, goods, and men via rowboats.
“How long do you think we have?” Daemon asked as he exited the port and stood on the path that led to Koros’ capital. Given the hill that the path ran toward rose over perhaps a mile from him, that fortified village was out of sight, but the mountains which it sat in the shade of were easily visible.
“Hard to be sure,” Cayde said slowly from his left, “the island’s big enough that given the distances between his ports, it’ll take Koros time to gather his men. I’d say at least a quarter-moon before our scouts spot them.”
“Aye, I’d agree,” added Rakakz from his right. “He cannot pull too many men from the eastern port, otherwise it would leave him weak if The Bloodhawk learnt of the shift in men and attacked. Still, from what you’ve told me, the western port is secure, so I’d say he takes most of the men from there, which based on the location the prisoners gave us, is going to take him longer. We might get close to a half-moon before he’s ready to move, but I’d not count on it.”
Daemon nodded, aware that unlike him and Cayde, Rakakz remained unaware of the additional intelligence they had from Cregan via Rian. “Working on the approach that those two ports are where he keeps the majority of his fleet,” of what was left after Cregan had taken the southernmost port, “and working on the idea that he has at least as many ships as those who bent the knee in The Whores said he had, then we could be looking at six to seven hundred men moving against us via land, perhaps a further two via the sea.”
“You think he’d send a small force to attack our flank?” Rakakz asked.
“He will consider it. However, without knowing more about his character,” something few of the men in The Whores who’d formerly been loyal to him could offer much intelligence about, “I cannot say for certain how he will act. All I can do is think about what I might do in his place.” He turned to Rakakz, “Begin working on a plan to defend the port from sea and land by a force close to our size. I do not expect an attack of such size, but it is wiser to over than underestimate what our enemy can do.”
Rakakz nodded, and then with a grumble – something, if Daemon caught it clearly, about not being trusted or made to do menial jobs – the former pirate lord walked off.
Daemon and Cayde watched him go. “What did the missive say?” Cayde asked once the former pirate was out of sight.
Daemon handed it to Cayde even as he offered a brief summary. “One to perhaps two hundred men from the east, double that from the west, and the village seems to house three to four hundred, though he feels at least a quarter of those are slave labour who would not be expected to fight.”
Cayde took a moment to reply, browsing Cregan’s missive for anything Daemon had missed out. “Assuming he leaves at least a hundred men to hold the fort, then seven hundred should be about what we face.”
“Yes, and if the attack is entirely overland, then we can outnumber them by around two to one. If, however, they send any ships, our advantage will slip considerably.”
Cayde grunted. “We will need to prepare the port for an attack and determine how best to deploy our men so that Koros remains unaware of our true strength of arms until he has committed to attack. Not going to be easy given he and his men will know this land better than us.”
“No, it will not, however, I have a few ideas on the matter,” Daemon replied as he took back Cregan’s missive. “How goes the search of the port and interrogation of the prisoners?” he asked as he slipped the missive into his armour. Normally, Daemon would destroy the missives, not wanting others outside a small circle to learn that Cregan was able to give them better intelligence than should be feasible, but this one he would be hanging onto. At least until he could make rough notes he could claim as his own when speaking with Rakakz and others of the plans he was formulating for defending the port.
“Last report I received suggested the search of the port was almost complete, however, there is not much there. Perhaps enough supplies to a day or two at most, and the odd pouch of coin or weapons caches. Seems when most ran, they took what they had with them, though from what the prisoners have said, there was not much here to begin with. It seems Koros is smart and keeps the majority of his riches in his fort, far from any of the ports in case something like this,” Cayde gestured around them, indicating their men at work, “happened. The same’s true of slaves as we are yet to find a single one in the port yet Cregan’s last missive on the fort suggested upwards of a hundred there.”
Daemon grunted at hearing all that. He had hoped Koros was at least a little lax in his security, but it seemed he was not, and if the roles were reversed, Daemon would do the same as him in keeping most of his valuables away from locations that could be easily raided or taken. Ports, as had been proven on Dustspear and Redwater, were easy enough to take with a large and determined force, whereas an inland settlement, only reachable via paths from various ports made it hard to take with a lightning strike.
“It is a good thing we expected this campaign to be hard and prepared appropriately,” Cayde continued, trying to put a positive spin on the matter. “The Pride’s stores are still full, and some of the other ships still have supplies left over.”
“That is all well and good, but I fear it will not be enough if taking our Koros and The Bloodhawk draws on longer than we would prefer,” Daemon countered, his eyes gazing over the forest on either side of the wide path that led to Koros’ fort. “I want the men to head out in search parties, no more than eight to a group. We need to see what, if anything, we can harvest from the forest. Also, send out galleys with extra rowboats and wee what bounty the sea might offer us.”
Cayde nodded. “The map Cregan provided suggested a stream to our east. Perhaps a day’s hike there and back. I will have men head out to confirm its existence and if so, we can begin transporting some here. While we cannot water down the rum anymore, a secondary source of liquid would not go amiss.”
“Yes, and the use of water would ensure that the men are not drunk if Koros’ forces somehow manage to approach us unawares.” Daemon turned and gave one final glance toward where Koros’ fort was located. “Still, I want the majority of the men working on defences. I know we cannot wall it all before the attack arrives, nor could we hold anything too ramshackle against such a force, but I think we can alter the battlefield to control where the battle takes place, and perhaps offer us a chance to ensure the battle goes as I might hope.
Cayde nodded and then slipped away, leaving Daemon with his thoughts. Daemon knew that he should have the advantage of numbers for the coming battle. The challenge was going to not just be using those numbers to win, but doing so to both minimise the casualties his men suffered while breaking the back of Koros’ force.
Men would have to be left on a few galleys, so that they could watch for an attack from the sea, but the war galleys would be moored or anchored close to shore. That way their scorpions would be usable as a heavy strike option if Koros’ men could be led to the docks. The trick was going to be getting them there.
Hiding the true size of his force was the only way to do that, but there were few options as to where to do so. The forest on either side of the port and path that led to Koros’ fort was the only choice for such a move, yet Koros would no doubt have scouts searching those forests to seek out hidden enemies. If any flank force was too far from the port, then it might not be able to engage before Daemon and those with him in the port – he would be leading the defence – risked either heavy casualties or being overrun.
Yet, by drawing Koros and his men into the port and the intended trap would grant Daemon the chance to not only crush the pirate army, and thus have them either forced to run or surrender, but perhaps grant him the chance to remove the head of the snake. Koros would lead the attack, if he did not his men might think him craven, so the opportunity to engage and kill in his combat sparked a fire in Daemon’s blood.
Not only did he expect the pirate lord to be one of the few worthy challenges to him on this island, but taking down Koros would if not destroy the resolve of his men but perhaps shatter the entire force and have them bend the knee. That latter option was unlikely as Daemon expected that even if Koros fell, one of his lieutenants would step up and assume command, but the chance for it to happen would influence the design of the trap forming in Daemon’s mind.
The odds were, however, that even if Koros led the assault, he would escape and retreat back to his fort. There, secure behind its walls, with the potential to call on more men from his remaining ports, he would be an issue. Daemon would not be able to commit the men needed to take the fort without leaving the port he stood in now undefended. Such a move was folly of the highest order.
No, Daemon would have to wait on Cregan, hoping his friend could move around the western coast of The Shrouded Isle and take Koros’ port on that shore. With that done, and coordinating via gulls and Rian, they could move against the fort, but until then, regardless of how the coming battle went, Daemon knew he was stuck in this port.
Moving toward the docks, he sought out his squire. He would need to begin preparations for the defences and traps he intended for Koros soon, but he could spare a few hours to further train Jekar. The boy would be at his side during the coming battle, and as this would be the first engagement where victory was far from assured – though still likely – he wanted his squire as ready as possible for the chaos that would be unleashed.
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(Cregan’s POV)
I stood at the end of one of the docks in the port I’d taken, one of Koros’ more powerful holdings, and watched as two of my now twelve galleys sailed east. The pair were heading to support Daemon’s position as while he already had most of my men and ships, his position was the more precarious, hence why I was removing them from my service and transferring them to Daemon.
Koros couldn’t commit the entirety of the fleet in his eastern port, as it would leave him vulnerable to The Bloodhawk or others, but even a few galleys would cause Daemon issues and force him to split his forces. The pair I was sending would take his numbers to somewhere near thirteen hundred men; more than enough to counter both the army Koros was gathering and whatever he might send from the eastern port.
Nearly seven hundred men had gathered at the fortified settlement, not nearly enough to overwhelm Daemon’s numbers, but it showed that not only had Daemon’s ruse in taking the port he now held worked but that Koros remained unaware of the true size of the army he was about to face. Now it was up to Daemon to win the coming battle, and ideally ensure that Koros didn’t escape back to his fortified settlement, nor with many of the men he brought to the battle.
Turning around, I walked back toward the port I now controlled, considering my next moves. With ten galleys and the Kraken at my command, I had the ships to sail on and crush both ports Koros had along the eastern shore of The Shroud Isle. However, I wouldn’t be taking all my vessels with me.
Jaeronos would remain at this port with the six captured galleys – and a mixed crew of men formerly loyal to Koros and those I’d sailed here with from Northpoint. Along with Dustspear and eventually The Whores, this port was key to my plans for control of the Dornish side of the Steps.
On a clear morning, one could see the Broken Arm from the end of the docks in this port, as this was the narrowest point of the sea that passed between Dorne and any island in the Stepstones. Trade vessels had to sail through this gap to head north to Storm’s End, King’s Landing and beyond or south to Sunspear and then around Dorne to Oldtown and the Sunset Sea.
Already this morning, through Rian’s gaze after I’d scouted out Koros’ latest actions, I’d seen over a dozen trade vessels moving along the Broken Arm, skirting as close as they could to avoid The Shrouded Isle. Those ships moved in groups – from two to six – seeking protection in size as they sought to avoid the pirate haven I now controlled. For the time being, Jaeronos was either to ignore the ships or approach them under a flag of truce. Most would likely not accept the truce and sail away, but if we could get word out that the port was now controlled by those not seeking to attack trade vessels and instead guide them through the passage, it would help develop the area and prepare things for my plans for this side of the Stepstones.
Eventually, ships sailing through this section of the sea, and elsewhere around lands I wanted to control, would pay a toll to pass. I’d have to be careful about how I handled that so as to not antagonize powerful figures in Westeros and Essos, but Salladhor Saan had shown the idea had merit, though I was talking about using it on a far larger scale.
Eventually, I hoped this port could develop like Northpoint was. While not as naturally sheltered as there, the strut of land the port lay at the end of had potential. A small river had been discovered emerging from the hills to the northeast, providing fresh water, while forest and foliage on the sides of the hills showed that the land was fertile, and due to the way it was shaped, ensured that storms which passed over the strut of land helped nourish the land.
Regular rainfall helped the land, and given that both Tarth and Estermont in the Stormlands suffered regular storms but were bountiful and supposedly beautiful islands, then I hoped the same would hold true of The Shrouded Isle. Estermont was about the size of The Shrouded Isle and Redwater, which gave me an idea of the population those islands could support over time, and both Estermont and Tarth generated a lot of food for the Stormlands. Not enough to make it independent of the Reach, but such that they could ensure that they weren’t enthralled by the other kingdom.
With time and effort, The Shrouded Isle and Redwater could become something similar. It was just going to need me to survive the coming few years to take the former island, secure my position against threats from east and west, and survive the looming danger of Others, to be possible. Hells, if I could do that, then along with Dustspear, I might make the area into something akin to a new, rising power of trade and sea.
As I reached the port proper and stepped off the dock, men nodded at my passing. It was simple to tell – even without Emotionless Recall – which of the men had been with me for how long. Those new to my ranks held large amounts of fear and distrust in their gazes, while those who’d fought for me since the taking of Dustspear, had that loyal, almost trusting gaze I hoped to develop in all my men. The ones who I watched most carefully were those who’d until just a few days ago been loyal to Koros. Their gazes always carried hints of anger and terror, but none showed a hint of the bravery needed to be a threat.
The presence of Ymir, who was currently in the forest nearby seeking those who’d chosen to run instead of surrender, helped convince many that servitude was better than treachery. Especially after the failed attempt to trick me when I’d first landed in the port. In time, these new men would learn to follow me because they wanted to, but for now fear would have to do. The problem lay in that I had nearly three hundred new men in my ranks; men who might still be loyal to the very man I was fighting.
Now, the same issue had existed on Redwater, but Koros was going to take longer to take down, and these men had fought longer and harder for him than any had for the three former pirate lords of Redwater. For now, the new men were manageable, but once more of Koros’ locations fell, his former men were going to represent a significant percentage of my ranks. Most would be staying with me, about a hundred of the number would be staying with Jaeronos or had sailed with the two galleys bound to Daemon’s location.
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“My lord,” I turned to see Edric moving toward me quickly. Like me, he was still in his armour, not trusting the men who’d bent the knee to me yesterday. The only difference was that he kept his helm close, currently carrying it under his arm. Mine rested in my cabin aboard the Kraken as I wished to show the men that I was willing to trust them to a small extent. “The Kraken and the other vessels are ready to set sail.”
“Good. Order the other ships to set sail, the Kraken will depart last.” Edric nodded and then turned and jogged away to relay my orders.
While Jaeronos would be staying here to secure the port, and protect our supply lines back to Bronn in the Whores and then Dustspear, I wasn’t going to slow down. Koros had another small port slightly northeast of here, on the other side of the strut of land that this port was at the end of, close to where Daemon was holed up. I wanted that port taken out before Koros moved to attack Daemon’s position, both to remove the threat of the men there – as few as there were – from striking without Daemon being aware of them, and to gather more ships and men for my force.
The port was minor, but it was the next stepping stone on my voyage around the eastern coast of The Shrouded Isle, and the last port to take before I targeted the next of Koros’ major ports. Most of the men in that port had already moved to the fortified settlement, preparing to assault Daemon, so the port would be weakened even if all ships remained docked.
Ideally, through Rian I’d see ships setting sail from that port, letting me bear down on them in the Sea of Dorne, and thus bringing them to heel before I struck the port. If that didn’t happen, I wasn’t too concerned. With the ships and men at my disposal, taking Koros’ eastern port would be relatively easy. However, I knew that no matter how many men were present when I assaulted it, the majority would turn and run, seeking safety at Koros’ capital.
That would bolster Koros’ forces there, along with however many survived the upcoming battle with Daemon’s men. However, with there being little threat of a major attack from the expanse of sea between The Shrouded Isle and the Stormlands – Crann Snow, who was supposedly loyal to Koros had one port far to the north of my target – I could commit most of my forces to a land assault, meeting up with whatever men Daemon pushed inland.
Taking that settlement was going to be an arse, but it had to fall before I moved forward with taking the rest of Koros’ holdings and then pushing against The Bloodhawk. Rumour had it that while he had fewer men than Koros, the Bloodhawk’s men were better and more aggressive fighters, meaning the less manpower I had to expend taking out Koros, the stronger my position would be to engage someone who had been in command of his ports for over a decade while at almost constant war with the pirate lords around him.
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(Daemon’s POV)
Repeating a pattern that he had developed over the last six days; he walked around the port taking a look over the defences. Today the seemingly hastily constructed walls, blockages and barriers would be put to the test, and in theory, guide the majority of Koros’ force toward one specific point near the dock.
The outer line of buildings was left, for the most part, clear near the path running to the fort at the centre of the island, but those on the edges had seen the gaps between them blocked off. Those blockages would not hold against a concerted attack, but it would make it harder, at least initially, for the pirates to flank where Daemon and his men would prepare for the battle to take place.
The next row of buildings had more blockages placed between them, in theory, filtering anyone who entered the port together, and hopefully have them arrive at the dock along two specific paths. There, the men with him would engage the attackers, supported by the scorpions on the three war galleys. Two were moored to the dock, the other was anchored in the bay, their bows aimed toward where the pirates should emerge from.
The two galleys Cregan had sent him were further out, acting as a screen for the rest of the fleet that was manned only with skeleton crews. Every other man was on land. Daemon had about seven hundred men with him, and while that was a force equal to Koros', their job was not to win the day. No, the plan called for them to simply hold the line at the dock.
Once the majority of Koros force was engaged, and at Daemon’s signal, Jekar was to give three long blasts on a horn he had been given. That would be the signal for Cayde and Rakakz to spring the trap. Each man had around a hundred and fifty men with them and would rush from their positions deeper in the forest. Their intent was to push into the sides and rear of Koros force, though a gap to allow those who wished to run would be left if possible.
The anvil of Daemon’s force would combine with the hammers from Cayde and Rakakz to crush the pirate army. However, Daemon had to be cautious. When faced with a trap one could not escape from men did one of two things, surrender on the spot, or more likely with men who had spent years or even decades acting as little more than thugs, fight to the death. That, along with Daemon assuming Koros was at least as intelligent as he was, and thus understanding the trap he had walked into early on, was why the intent was to leave the gap in the trap.
Leaving the gap in the lines was not ideal, but it would, he hoped, ensure that the casualties suffered by his men were not as high as they would be if Koros and his men discovered they were trapped with no chance of escape and then fought like cornered animals. Of course, the issue with the trap, beyond the need to leave a gap for those who wished could escape through, was placing trust in Rakakz to lead one of the flanking forces.
The former pirate lord from Redwater had fought in battle with Cregan before, but that was early on, and not at a time when Daemon had to rely upon him. Daemon trusted the Gilded Hand about half as far as his squire could throw him, yet he could not deny the man the command. Cregan had made him a captain in their ranks, meaning he stood behind Daemon and Cayde in the chain of command. With the flank forces needing the most senior commanders, and no other position requiring anything of the same importance, Daemon had to place Rakakz in command of one of the flanking forces. The only upside was that the men directly under Rakakz’s command in the force were the ones Daemon trusted.
“Mi’lord!” The call had Daemon turning, pushing thoughts on the coming battle to the side for a moment. “They’re coming!” The man rushing toward him was tired, and Daemon remembered as he neared that this one was part of the group camped out near the top of the hill about a mile away to watch for when Koros’ army approached.
“How many?” Daemon asked, though he already knew better the answer that whatever this man might say thanks to Cregan, yet he had to pretend he did not.
“Hundreds, mi’lord,” the man replied. “Many hundreds.”
Daemon grunted at the lack of anything approaching useful information. Even if he knew the truth, it did not help to have such useless intelligence. “Get you your position,” He said and then walked away, not wanting to deal with someone so abjectly useless.
He heard the man’s footsteps on the ground as he obeyed Daemon’s orders, but already Daemon’s mind was elsewhere. “Jekar,” he called out, summoning his squire to his side. The boy was in full armour, helm down in readiness for the coming battle. “Signal the men.”
Jekar nodded and pulled the horn from his side. A single long blow of the horn had many in the port stop what they were doing. A second later, the men started to rush around, getting into their positions for the coming battle. While they did that, Daemon moved toward the buildings, intending to step through the port and see the size of the army, if one could call it that, he was facing.
Twelve men, all preselected for this, fell into step around him. None of the men were comfortable with escorting Daemon to greet the attackers, but all did as commanded. It took them a few minutes to reach the start of the path, the diversions created for this battle forcing them to take a slightly indirect line. During that time, Daemon considered the wisdom in this part of the plan, as while irritating Koros into attacking rashly was the intent, pushing an opponent into such an act was not always desirable. However, he needed Koros to commit, to push his men directly at the port instead of spreading out and striking it from multiple sides.
As he emerged through the last row of buildings that marked the edge of the port, he stopped and looked along the path. At the peak of the hill, a little more than a kilometre away from him, he saw a mass of bodies slowly passing over the crest. The path was barely wide enough for four men to walk side by side, yet Koros had men moving in rough rows of six.
Either the rest were spread out slightly into the forest, intending to hide their numbers, or those at the front were expected to bear the brunt of any defence Daemon had prepared and die to ensure the rest of Koros’ force could overwhelm the men who had taken his port. If not for the missives from Cregan, Daemon would be unaware of just how many men he faced, but he was and had designed his defences accordingly.
He took a few steps forward, the men who had come with him, remaining behind, and then shouted. “In the name of The Rogue Viper, this port is now claimed as part of his territory! You find yourselves with two choices: Die here, staining the soil with your pathetic blood, or throw down your weapons and bend the knee to your new overlord!”
The men moving slowly down the hill paused, Daemon’s words catching them unprepared, which was partially the point. The other was to throw some doubt into the minds of Koros’ men. Now, he did not expect that doubt to develop until after this attack with rebuffed, and the survivors retreated to the inland fort, but just a few whispers of Koros’ failure against The Rogue Viper, and possibly even the pirate lord’s death at the battle soon to begin, would be enough to at least weaken, if not crush, the resolve of those manning the fort.
The only downside to making this rather dangerous challenge was that it forced him to stand before Koros’ army, exposed and marked out. Every member of Koros’ forces would soon know what he looked like, and seek him out in battle, if not target him with arrows where he stood. The latter was a minor issue, as his armour could more than withstand an arrow from the current distance without it impeding his movements. As for the former, that was fine with Daemon. He intended to be in the thick of the fighting, and if that meant taking on the more skilled warriors in Koros’ ranks, then the better. Not only might he find someone worth the effort, but each officer that fell to his blade weakened Koros’ ability to lead his men if he escaped, and if he did not, it removed possible figures who might move to replace him.
After a few seconds, the ranks of approaching pirates split, and a figure dressed in green – the same green as the leaves of the forest around them – stepped out. With the distance between them, Daemon couldn't determine anything more about the figure, but the colour of the armour alone was enough to instantly have them marked as a target of value to Daemon.
“Tell the Rogue Viper to fuck off!” The Green-armoured figure called out. “This is my island!”
Under his helm, Daemon smirked, now sure this was Koros. “It was! Now it belongs to the Rogue Viper!” Daemon was using that moniker as it was the same as the one Cregan had used when they had raided The Whores, and thus might be known to Koros and other nearby pirate lords. “Kneel and live or stand and die!”
Koros moved slightly from side to side, though what he might be saying or doing – beyond gesturing toward Daemon – was unknown until he shouted his response. “Fuck the Rouge Viper! Though perhaps, given how you speak of him, he fucks you, you dumb fuck!”
The faint sound of laughter from Koros’ men travelled to Daemon, but he ignored the rather pitiful insult. He had heard far worse while training as a squire and knight, and on battlefields since gaining his spurs. “You have chosen death!” He called back. “Enter the port and we shall send you to whatever hell accepts such scum!”
Without waiting for a response, he turned his back on Koros – an act he suspected might rile up the pirate – and moved toward the port. The men who had come with him watched as he approached, their eyes scanning the trees and skies for any threat. While an arrow was highly unlikely to do any damage to Daemon’s armour, few of these men with him wore anything that would be able to stop such an attack. Their only real defence currently was distance, but that only worked if one was alert to the danger.
As he passed them, they shuffled back, eyes remaining on the pirate horde gathering at their door. “Get to your positions,” Daemon ordered once he entered the port, his blood beginning to pump.
Two ports on The Shrouded Isle had fallen to Cregan and him, just like the ports on Dustspear and Redwater. Yet, for the first time in the campaign in the Stepstones, there would be something approaching a proper battle. One fought on firm ground, and Daemon longed to test himself in such a crucible.
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Daemon grunted as his blade came up, clashing against the steel of the latest pirate to challenge him. A shift of his wrist, and then a push with his arm had the blade aimed at him driven away. The movement caused the man’s body to turn, exposing his side and into that opening Daemon thrust his other arm forward.
The edge of his shield crashed into the man’s chest, driving him back as his other hand, one holding a dagger, came up. The wound didn’t draw blood, but Daemon smirked as he heard something crack under the strike, though he understood this pirate was not yet defeated. A flurry of strikes, each attack flowing into the next, forced the man back.
The pirate moved to block with one of his blades or avoid the edge of Daemon’s blade, yet it was for nought and Daemon soon felt his blade dig into the man’s armour. The material used – likely nothing more than thick padding – held for a moment, but as Daemon stepped into the strike, the tip sliced through the armour.
A grunt came from the pirate and as he staggered away, Daemeon saw fresh blood on the tip of his sword. The wound wasn’t deep, but it was enough to distract the pirate, which was enough. With a shifting of his feet, along with a lowering and turning of his shoulder, the pirate fell to a knee, one thigh sliced deeply and blood splurging from the wound.
Daemon’s shield came forward, the centre of the metal crashing into the pirate’s face. The sound of bone breaking reached Daemon’s ears, followed by, as he pulled the shield back, the sight of the pirate crumbling to the ground. Yet, even then, Daemon knew the man was not yet out of the battle, and even as he turned, seeking a new target, his blade drove down. A roaring groan of pain came from the downed pirate, Daemon’s blade slicing clean through the man’s balls and cock. The wound was not an instant kill, but the searing anguish of the strike, along with the gushing of blood onto the pebbles beneath him, ensured the pirate was out of the fight, and not long for this world.
Daemon’s blade came up, his eyes seeking out his next target. A flash of green drew his focus for a moment, but he discarded it as it was not Koros. Daemon wanted to test his steel against the pirate lord, to claim the head of another such fool. Cregan’s need to clean the skulls did not hold Daemon’s appeal, only defeating them in battle did.
Around him, men in mismatched armour and with seemingly random weaponry clashed against each other, the only way to stand a chance of discerning who was an ally and who was a foe was a recently added splotch of dye added to the armour. Even then, the marks were not universal, nor was the colour, making it hard to be sure which of the men moving around him was under his command, and which might seek to end his life and deny him any chance of seeing his love again.
A flicker of a small figure in metal caught his attention. Jekar was engaged with a pirate – a man with worn features and a disturbed snarl on his face. Daemon stepped toward them, fearing for his squire, yet before he could take more than a few steps, two more men moved toward Jekar. For a moment, Daemon tensed, fearing for his squire, yet the new men moved to engage the pirate, a splash of blue on the armour of one revealing them to be allies.
Daemon could barely let his fear for Jekar go before he turned, catching sight of two pirates rushing toward him. He did not have time to confirm if they were friend or foe, but the way the one on the right raised a cutlass high, ready to slash down while the other grasped twin axes.
One axe came forward, forcing Daemon to slide back, mindful of the dying eunuch pirate near his feet. The pirate with the axes brought the other weapon around. An angling of his shield had Daemon pushing that strike away, guiding the pirate toward his partner. The other pirate moved to one side, eager to avoid his partner, which left him exposed to Daemon’s blade.
The wound was shallow, barely nicking the arm, but it would hamper the pirate’s ability with his blade. Daemon never gave the man a chance to see how the wound would hamper him, as with a rolling of his arm, Daemon brought his blade back around, slashing the pirate’s stomach just below his armour. The pirate shuffled to the side, seeking to get away from Daemon, though through the slit of his helm, Daemon saw the pirate fall; his feet catching the now-dead pirate Daemon had taken down by removing his cock and balls.
Turning, Daemon faced off with the man with two axes. He was forced back, turning his body and angling his shield to avoid the bit of the axes, and ensuring they did not catch the edge of his shield. Sensing a chance, Daemon stopped dodging and moved into one attack. The pirate was caught unawares, and his axe clattered off Daemon’s shield, unable to get a grasp on the edge before Daemon had pushed away with his shield, driving the arm with that axe out of position.
The other axe came around, but the unexpected shift of the pirate’s body made it easy for Daemon to avoid, and as the arm swung in the gap between them, Daemon’s blade flicked out, causing a deep laceration in the pirate’s forearm. The axe fell from his grasp, the wound deeper than Daemon thought, but he was not going to overlook the opportunity it presented.
Stepping forward, Daemon drove his blade into the pirate’s side. The pirate grunted as the blade sank deeper, slicing its way through the man’s innards, before, with a turn to widen the wound, Daemon pulled his blade free as he turned. The man fell to his knees, his arm dropping his weapon and going to the fatal wound.
Daemon had no chance to savour another kill as he saw a pirate rushing at him. The newcomer was close enough that Daemon knew he would not be able to set his feet properly, though he turned to face the onrushing pirate anyway. He would not present an exposed side to an enemy.
Yet, before the pirate could reach him, he stumbled and fell. Daemon blinked as the man crashed at his feet, though as the pirate did, Daemon saw Jekar there. The squire’s blade was bloody, a trail of it running to the leg of the downed pirate, and the boy’s shield while strapped to his arm was badly damaged, and he was breathing heavily, yet he was still fighting.
As he gave Jekar a nod of thanks, Daemon turned his blade around and drove it down, severing the man’s spine just below the neck. As he stood, Jekar moved off, seeking a new opponent and Daemon felt a swell of pride at his squire’s desire to keep fighting. Doing the same, Daemon turned, desiring the next victim to sate his lust for battle.
Another flash of green drew his attention, though this time Daemon saw it was Koros. The man was close, no more than a hundred metres from him, and with a need to test his steel – and potentially take half of the island with a single stroke – Daemon advanced.
Moving toward the pirate lord, Daemon dodged an attack and then slashed at the fool seeking to delay him from his target. The pirate lasted only a few moves before falling, but in that time Daemon saw that Koros had taken down two of his men. The men he had fought had been former pirates, but Daemon could respect that by taking down three men so quickly, he had some skill.
Daemon moved toward Koros, the man turning to face him, yet before they could meet two of Daemon’s men were upon Koros while Daemon had to turn and face three new pirates who were rushing at him. There was a spike of anger towards the trio, but Daemon did not dwell upon it, instead, he focused that rage into his actions; using them to strengthen his resolve.
The trio spread out slightly, seeking to flank Daemon, but he was alert to this. Sliding to his left, he moved his shield up, deflecting a strike from the pirate on that side, even as he used a downed cart – one that had been placed to help filter the attackers during the initial surge of battle – to his back. As the pirate’s blade bounced away from his shield, Daemon pushed forward with his shield, driving it into the pirate.
The man stumbled back, blood seeping from a likely broken nose even as Daemon turned to face the others. The pair had shifted their approach, angling to overload Daemon’s blade side. His blade flashed out, blocking and then deflecting the attack from the left of the pair, pushing him to the right. That forced the last of the trio to break from their attack, needing to shift so he avoided his partner’s blade as it angled toward him.
As the pair recovered, Daemon brought his shield up, turning away a thrust from the first pirate. The blade slid in front of him, allowing Daemon to bring his blade around, the edge slashing the pirate’s forearm, causing the blade to clatter to the ground.
He pushed out his shield, driving it into the pirate again, this time striking the man’s chest, and sending him careening back, tumbling over. Daemon slid toward that pirate, avoiding a strike from one of the pair who had by now recovered. His shield came around, the edge crashing into the pirate’s arm at the elbow.
A grunt came from the man as Daemon heard the sound of something cracking, and the blade he’d been carrying fell to the ground, joining the weapon of the first. As he pulled back his shield, Daemon’s sword drove forward, finding purchase in the man’s gut. Another grunt came from the pirate as his hands went to his stomach when Daemon pulled the blade free, and he fell to his knees as blood poured forth, covering the now discarded weapons on the ground.
The other of the pair, enraged by the coming death of his compatriot, rushed at Daemon, though the knight moved easily, using the downed body to keep the third pirate away. As they shifted positions, the pirate now with his back to the cart, Daemon grinned ferally. Alone, these men were no challenge, but at least together they were forcing him to think and act quickly.
The first pirate, a dagger in the uninjured arm, rushed in, seeking a weak point in Daemon’s armour. Daemon lowered his arm, letting the thin blade crash against his vambrace and then bounce harmlessly away. The man’s move had brought him in close, the dagger’s lack of length forcing him to commit to an attack. Daemon took advantage.
The man tumbled and fell, Daemon’s blade slicing him under his arm, slicing through the weakest point of whatever armour the man wore. As he fell, Daemon’s full attention turned to the remaining pirate. A rush of delight came over Daemon as he saw the fear in the pirate’s eyes. Terror that his companions were dead and that he was soon to join them. Yet before Daemon could finish this pitiful man off, a long, drawn-out blast of a horn echoed around the port.
Daemon’s mind wondered why a horn was sounding. Jekar had long ago sounded for Rakakz and Cayde to spring the ambush, and that was three short blasts, not a single long one. The confusion passed in an instant as, all around them, men either threw their blades to the ground or – and this seemed the more common choice – turned and ran. The man at the cart moved as if to run, though Daemon sensed the shift in his body and was already countering before the pirate could attack.
Daemon’s blade slid along the man’s stomach, cutting into flesh. As the man shifted past him, Daemon’s arm rotated, and he brought the edge of the blade down on the man’s back, cutting deep enough that the pirate fell to the ground as if his strings had been severed. The blade in his hand clattered to the ground, joining countless others in the port and along the dock, though Daemon barely cared about taking down another foe.
His eyes scanned the chaos, seeking the flash of green armour in the panic that was spreading through Koros’ ranks. The pirates were running, the horn the sound of their retreat, yet Daemon wanted to find Koros, to ensure he had not escaped. If the man had fallen, then Daemon expected that many of Koros’ men would break when Cregan and he assaulted the fort. Yet, for all that hope that Koros might have been killed, Daemon knew better.
He sighed loudly, though he did not lower his guard as he watched the last remnants of the pirate force flee. Koros had escaped along with, at an early estimate, about half his men. The lack of green on the ground anywhere near where Daemon last saw the pirate lord removed the last vestiges of hope Daemon had held that the man might have fallen to another’s opportune strike.
As the last of the pirates slipped away, and his men began to cheer, savouring the victory, Daemon grunted. The trap had worked, the bodies on the ground testament to the grinder it had become, but the primary objective had failed. Koros lived and would marshal his defences in his fort, hoping to wait out Daemon’s men. He would be able to do so, at least for a time. Daemon would need to take stock of the battle, see how many men he had lost, and potentially gain if those few who had surrendered chose to sign the charter, and then wait.
He lacked the men to strike the port and keep his fleet crewed and this port protected. Koros would think that would allow him to wait out Daemon, but he was wrong. All it bought him was time until Cregan was in the position to move on the fort as well. All Daemon hoped was that he would be granted the honour of ending the pirate lord’s life.
Moving toward the docks, he gestured with his sword. “Secure any prisoners!” The men around him paused, snapping from their reverie, and then moved to obey. “I want bodies searched and everything of value, be it weapons, food, or coin, brought to my solar!” He added, walking around the bodies that littered the ground.
As he spotted Jekar nearby, he moved toward him, pausing only to end the pain of one poor wretch who lay on the ground. Daemon did not know nor care on which side the man had fought, all he was certain of was that the man was dead; Daemon simply ended their suffering with a mercifully quick death.
There would be others like that man around, though they would be granted the embrace of the Stranger once wound. Yet it was those who were wounded yet not close to dying that concerned Daemon. Such men, unless their wounds were minor, were going to place a strain on their resources. Not only in terms of supplies and the loss of blades in future battles but also in the need to treat their wounds and determine their fates.
That was a common occurrence after a battle, but this had been a far bloodier one than any Daemon had fought in the Stepstones so far. Yet, while he knew this battle had been won at a potentially decent cost, it would not be the last. Nor the bloodiest.
… …