(Cregan’s POV)
I barely managed to suppress a growl of annoyance as I looked down at the man kneeling a few metres before me. The man had stated that he was the commander of the port I’d just taken, and along with what appeared to be nearly a hundred others, bent the knee the moment I stepped onto the dock.
Given my fleet, led by the Kraken – carried around four times their numbers, there was logic in their choice, but it irritated me to be once more denied the chance to test my skill against others. Or that I might watch as life left the eyes of those brave or dumb enough to challenge me and then fall to my blade.
I took a second to inhale, settling my annoyance as I moved closer to the man, my eyes wary of treachery after what had happened in the last port. “There are two galleys docked here, yet the men present would not be able to man them and retain control of this port. Where are the rest?”
When I’d scouted the island via Rian, I’d placed the count of men here at over one-fifty. It was clear that many of the men, perhaps over a third, were missing, and that was a problem I disliked having to waste time fixing.
The port’s commander lifted his head, blinking at my statement. For a moment, I wondered if he might choose to lie, though a growl from Ymir as the massive direwolf came to my side, drew the pirate’s attention and he gulped loudly. “M… mi’lord,” he began slowly, his fear soaking into the air around us. “We ne-never had m-many men. B-but when we s-saw you co-coming, s-some ran i-into the forest.”
“How many?”
“Pe-perhaps thirty.”
A grunt slipped from my lips upon hearing that. While I had little intention to hold this port, and would take everything and anything of value with me when I left, thirty men wandering around the island could be an issue. Particularly as the closest allied port – or so they would think – was the one Daemon now operated from.
I looked at Ymir and nodded, the giant direwolf bounding off through the throng of kneeling pirates, making them scamper to avoid being crushed under Ymir’s paws as he hunted those who’d chosen to flee. “Koryn, Myles,” I call out to two of my sergeants, “gather eighty men and help Ymir track those who chose death over servitude.”
As I heard the pair turn to the men and gather up the numbers I told them to take, I considered my choice. It was risky sending so many into the forest after so few pirates, but I wasn’t going to leave them free to run around and cause havoc.
With the men Daemon had, thirty pirates weren’t going to be an issue, but he had no idea they were in the forest to his west, and that could be an issue. As it would take time to gather anything and everything of value from the port and ensure the two moored galleys were seaworthy, most if not all of the pirates who’d chosen to run instead of surrender should be handled. Plus, it would sate Ymir’s bloodlust as while he had fought when I’d captured three pirate galleys at sea, his large frame made it difficult for him to move around as he wished. In a forest, tracking fleeing prey, he was in his element.
As for Daemon, I’d watched the battle through Rian’s eyes yesterday, impressed with his tactics and how, based on how it appeared only about half of Koros' force had retreated, successful the trap had been. Using his extra men to flank from deep in the forests was a smart move, one I’d likely have made as well, and while I had at the time been irritated by his choice to not seal the flanks and prevent Koros and some of his men escaping, I had come to see Daemon’s logic.
Men without hope of survival or escape, often fight harder, wanting to take down others with them. By leaving the gap in the lines, Daemon was ensuring that the pirates wouldn’t fight like that. Yes, it seemingly cost him a complete victory, but it ensured that my men under his command weren’t decimated in the battle. That would’ve placed constraints on my actions to finish off Koros and then move on to The Bloodhawk.
There was a small chance that Koros fell in the battle, but I wasn’t expecting it. One didn’t become and then rule as a pirate lord for a decade-plus by being foolish. Even if, by some miracle he had fallen, one of his captains would take command of the remaining forces under Koros’ banner and rally them at the fortified settlement.
Regardless of who was in command, they would call men from the remaining ports to the settlement, with most coming from the western port. Taking too many from the east would leave him vulnerable to either Daemon’s ships or one of the Bloodhawk’s fleets. That meant the majority would come from the western port.
Part of me was angered that this would happen, as it would deny me battle when I sailed for that port with my enlarged fleet, but even if not many men were recalled to the settlement, the odds were good that once it became clear my fleet was going to attack, most of the men would fall back to the settlement anyway. Once that port was taken, regardless of how, I could consider my next move, but for now, I had to focus on the present, and ransacking the port I stood in for anything of any remote value.
I gestured to my squires to approach. The pair came forward, and with another gesture, they pulled the port commander to his feet. “You will tell me everything about this port,” I said firmly as I stepped toward him, using my height and frame to intimidate him. “I want to know where every ration, every weapon, every spare supply, and coin in this port is. You and your men will then, after signing your souls to me, bring those items to the dock. If my men discover anything you failed to mention, for whatever reason, someone will be punished severely for the mistake.”
The pirate nodded his desire to live overriding any notion of rebellion. I watched as he moved away, my squires joined by others as he led them toward what I assume is the main storehouse of the port. Turning back to the other pirates who remain on their knees I grunt.
Another hundred bodies to sign my charter, and in theory swear themselves to me. Yet, like those in the port where I’d left Jaeronos, and where Daemon was stationed, those who’d joined my ranks on The Shrouded Isle, had been loyal to Lucian Koros but a day before. More would bend the knee in the next port I took – unless all abandoned it for the settlement – meaning I could be looking at several hundred bodies I’d need for taking the settlement that had until very recently been loyal to the man commanding that settlement.
Until Koros was dead, and possibly for a few moons afterwards, I would remain reluctant to trust many of them. The same was true of those who’d formerly served Vaegon, Rakakz, and Allerion on Redwater, and while the middle of those three served me now, I wasn’t certain of him or any of those former pirates. Yet, with my moves against Koros, and the near-future plans for taking out The Bloodhawk, the uncertainty that festered in me over the true loyalty of my men continued to grow.
So far, nothing had gone wrong regarding the presence of so many former pirates in my ranks – save one instance in Northpoint where I’d been forced to execute a man for raping one of the former slaves – but I knew that it was only a matter of time, possibly my first major defeat before questions were asked by them about my intentions. Once they learnt of them, it was probable that many, if not most would disapprove of my plans, though so long as I was paying them well, better than those from Redwater had done as pirates for certain, then I expected them to stay employed by me.
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(Daemon’s POV)
Daemon walked down the plank from the Howl moving toward the port. While he might have spent the night in the port, he felt it safer to remain in his cabin aboard his flagship. Cayde and Rakakz had slept in the port, taking turns along with Entan and Ballar in command of the men during the evening and night. The latter two were sergeants in Daemon’s forces, serving directly under his command to relay orders to the men, and while paid less than The Gilded Hand, Daemon trusted both more than he did Rakakz.
All four waited for him at the end of the dock, though Ballar looked tired, suggesting he had taken the final shift before morning. The sound of metal on wood behind him ensured Daemon that Jekar was flowing in his wake.
“Report,” he said as he reached the end of the dock and the gathered figures.
“We took near three-and-eighty prisoners at the end of the battle,” Cayde began, looking down at a scroll of parchment he held in his hand. “Ten-and-two succumbed to their wounds during the night while six more will soon join them. Based on bodies, we estimate that over two hundred of their men fell in the battle. As of this morning, scouts can add two-and-thirty to that number; their bodies lying on the path back to Koros’ fort, though we did not push beyond halfway to the fort so others might be lying elsewhere. In the forests, the men have only found eight bodies, but they expect to find more during the day.”
Daemon nodded at the numbers, getting a rough picture that of the roughly seven hundred men Koros had brought, less than three hundred had returned to his fort. “And our numbers?” He asked, hoping the figures were far lower. Yes, they had superior numbers, but the men on The Shrouded Isle should, in theory, see more battle than any from Redwater. That was not to say the men from Redwater were craven, just that it was harder to replenish ranks there than here as this island saw more passing ships from which pirates could forcibly recruit.
Cayde shared a look with Entan and Ballar. “In the battle proper, we lost one-hundred, four-and-eighty. Another four-and-forty succumbed to injuries during the night. A further nine-and-twenty are injured but unlikely to be able to fight or man a ship going forward.”
Daemon grunted at hearing that. Injuries were common in battle, but so far, thanks to the lightning speed of Cregan’s attacks, they had avoided major casualties. This time they had not been as fortunate, but overall, the numbers were nowhere near as bad as Daemon had feared. Sadly, those unable to fight were going to be a problem. “Can they still work in other ways?” He asked, hoping to find a use for them.
“I cannot say for sure, but I will check.”
Daemon nodded. “See to it. If they can, then find work for them around the port. If not…” He sighed and shook his head. “We might have to… remove them.”
“Aye. No need to waste supplies on those not worth the effort,” Rakakz commented, drawing an irritated look from Daemon. “If they cannot fight or sail, they serve no purpose.”
Daemon did not like the idea of simply killing off the wounded, but he understood it might need to be done. Ideally, if they could spare the vessels, he would suggest to Cregan sending the injured back to Northpoint, and then onto Sunspear with their wages for this moon paid in full. However, with only the Pride capable of doing that, and the cog full of their spare supplies and weaponry, it was not an option.
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“Talk with the wounded. Find out where they came from and if they have any family. It is unlikely that we could get their outstanding pay to their families if they have one, I feel Cregan would wish to attempt to do so.” The odds that any of them lived near Sunspear, or even in Dorne, were slim, but by making the offer Daemon hoped it might please those who had signed on from Westeros; letting them know that even in death they might be able to earn coin for their loved ones.
“I think most are former pirates,” Cayde replied, touching on another issue with the idea, “but I will look into it.” He made a scribble on his parchment. “What of the prisoners?”
“We offer terms as normal,” Daemon replied calmly as he started moving toward the port, the others falling into step at his side or in the case of Jekar and the sergeants, behind. “If they accept, then they go to the lowest rank. If not,” He shrugged, “add them to the casualty roll.” It was a harsh option, but the only one that made any sense in war.
“I say we just kill them all, but I know if that was what the Wolf wanted, I would have died back on Redwater,” Rakakz muttered, with what sounded like admiration at Daemon’s coldness in his voice. Daemon did not need the former pirate lord’s admiration, though he did wish that Cregan had done as Rakakz suggested on Redwater. He knew Cregan could not then nor now, however, as the most pressing issue they faced was manpower.
“How are repairs to the defences progressing?” He asked, changing the topic.
“We’ve repaired what damage was done to the various buildings, and removed the blockages put in place to guide the attackers into the trap,” Entan responded from behind Daemon’s right shoulder. “Nothing major seems to have been destroyed or taken, but we’ve got men moving the blockages out to the edges of the port.”
“A rough wall will do for now, but if we have to stay here longer, we might have to consider cutting down trees to make something close to a proper wall,” Ballar added.
“Koros’ fort means we cannot simply abandon the port and move on to the next as we did often in Redwater,” Daemon glanced at Rakakz, wanting to catch a hint of annoyance or anger at how easily he had lost his power because of Cregan. The slightest hint of betrayal was all Daemon needed to feel justified to remove The Gilded Hand from their ranks, but sadly for him, Rakakz showed no outward sign toward the mention of his defeat and submission to Cregan. “And with Koros’ main fleet to our east, to say nothing of whatever numbers The Bloodhawk possesses in his southern ports, we cannot push inward with the men needed to take the port and expect this place to remain under our control.”
“What of Cregan’s movements?” Cayde asked.
“I received a missive from him last night. By now he should have taken the small port to our west. From there, I expect him to sail north and take Koros’ major port facing the Sea of Dorne, though I have no confirmation yet that this is still his plan.”
“Bold plan,” Rakakz offered, this being the first time he had heard of Cregan’s intent. “Taking his fleet there now, when so many of the men from that port fought in the battle yesterday means that not only would it be an easier capture for him, but with the port taken he would control the sea towards Westeros.” He grunted. “Add in that Koros will likely call more men from the west than the east to reinforce his fort, and that damn wolf will possibly take his target without much bloodshed. Though the men there, once they see his fleet approach, could easily fall back to the fort as well, granting Koros a larger defence than we would like.”
Daemon nodded. “I expect them to do the latter,” He said slowly, “however, with Cregan having taken that port, and there being no true threat to it from other pirates, he can commit most of his men towards the fort. That would allow us to not send as many as we might otherwise have to, granting us the ability to keep this port secure while putting pressure on Koros’ position. Unless, of course, he decides to withdraw entirely, but I do not think Cregan will do that.” Nor would Cregan based on the missives Daemon had read. Still, a wise commander considered the most probable options when planning for war.
“If not for that Gods-damn bird, none of this assault would be possible,” Rakakz muttered though Daemon stopped and turned to look at him as the former pirate lord grunted. “That’s how you fucking did it, right? You used that eagle to prepare for my attack on Vaegon’s port when Cregan saw them at sea, and he then sailed out and around them to target my ports while my men were led into an ambush at the port.”
Daemon nodded, keeping Rakakz’s gaze on him even as Cayde smirked from the other side. “More or less,” he replied. There was more to it than just luck, but that was Cregan’s secret to reveal, not Daemon’s and The Gilded Hand was far from being trusted with that knowledge, nor the connection Cregan held with Rian, Ymir, and Kaa.
Now, there were rumours among the men about Cregan, not only about the animals that he had, but his magic. Daemon felt that the use of the small necklace that he wore around his wrist was a smart misdirection, however, he wondered how long it would be before someone attempted to remove the necklace to see if it was truly the source of his powers. From what Entan and Ballar had told him, some of the men believed that Cregan had been trained in Sunspear by a warlock of Qarth. A few seemed curious if the connection between Cregan and his direwolf was a sign of some First Men magic as word of Robb Stark also having a direwolf had filtered to Sunspear during Daemon’s last visit there.
While Daemon knew that the rumours about Cregan’s First Men blood being involved in his connection with Ymir, Rian, and Kaa, the rumour about a warlock from Qarth was ridiculous. Yet, with what limited information the men had; it carried some weight. Sadly, that was also true of the suggestions from a few – no matter how much Cregan worked to dissuade such notions – that Cregan was Azor Ahai reborn: That he would wield the sword Lightbringer, birth dragons from stone, and lead the followers of R’hllor in battle against the Great Other. Only the first of those ideas had any merit, and that was due to Cregan’s proclivity to ignite flames along his blade while in battle.
The full truth of Cregan’s extra abilities lay only with a select few. Not even Daemon’s squire knew the truth, though both Edric Dayne and Trystane Martell did; something Daemon knew as Cregan had confided in him that Prince Doran had arranged the two squires in the attempt to see if his youngest son and the heir to Starfall might be trained to wield magic, thus strengthening Dornish power.
“How goes the search for extra supplies?” he asked, shifting the conversation.
Rakakz grunted, his gods-damn gauntlet that gave him that title, caught the morning sun, and forced Daemon to squint. “Good for the most part,” He said slowly. “We’ve found a few more streams and while the water we’ve brought to the port so far is not much, it is helping. The same is true for game the men have found and killed in the forest, and, at least until yesterday, the boats were doing a fair job in hauling in fish. Numbers might be off, but we should be able to keep ourselves going for a good while before we need to draw on our main supplies.” Daemon nodded, pleased that the Pride’s hold remained full, though he knew that over time they would be forced to remove that food and eat it, lest it turn foul. “Once the scouts are sure we have no spies or saboteurs nearby, I can see about sending more men out to hunt and forage. Not to the north as I expect Koros to send out raiding parties, seeking out our scouts.”
“I would also be cautious to the west,” Cayde cut in. “Some may run when Cregan takes the port over there, and we are the closest potential ally for them to head to.”
Rakakz chuckled. “Aye. Already got a few groups ready to head that way to hunt for deserters.” He looked at Daemon. “Do we capture or kill them?”
“I will leave that up to the men,” Daemon responded. “However, do not take risks to see if a handful might join us, and tell the men to be cautious. If I know Cregan, he will send men of his own into the forest, along with Ymir.”
Rakakz tried to hide it, but Daemon caught the shiver that ran up the former pirate lord’s spine. “Not a pretty way to go that,” He muttered.
“No, it is not. But a direwolf is built to hunt in a forest and Ymir is well used to southern climates now,” Daemon said with a chuckle. “He is very good at what he does.”
“Yeah.” Rakakz shook his head. “Anyway, once we are sure the west is clear, we can push further that way to water and game. Might even send a squad to the port once the Wolf’s left it behind.”
Daemon nodded, seeing logic in that though he doubted there would be anything left. Might be worth a quick look.”
Cregan was remarkably thorough in ensuring every building was turned over for all but the most well-hidden of prizes. Even then he has Kaa with him, and if he chose, he could and would use the viper to search into buildings for hidden places; ones even the pirate who had bent the knee to Cregan might not know about. Unlike Ymir and Rian, Kaa spent most of the time in his cage in Cregan’s cabin. Cregan was unwilling to let the snake wander freely during battle – for obvious reasons – or allow the over-a-metre-long snake to explore his vessel.
As they neared the building Daemon had taken as his solar, he turned to face the others. “While it is important that we secure the port, and work on finding reliable food sources, I want you and those under you to think of ways we might scout and take out Koros’ fort. Any we send to scout the location stands a fair chance of not returning, but it will eventually be something we will have to do. Koros knows this land better than we, and while some of his men are now in our ranks, I remain uncertain of how dependable their words and knowledge will be. Work on the assumption that the fort is more heavily defended and manned than anything the prisoners tell us, and if anyone has any ideas you think might be of use, report them to me when we meet at the end of the day.”
“It might be worth seeing if any of the men know how to construct weapons of war,” Cayde offered. “It is unlikely, but until we ask we cannot be certain.”
“No, we cannot,” Daemon replied in agreement. “If any such men are found, bring them to me at once.” Daemon knew of such weapons, and even the concepts to construct them, but the actual creation of such things was not the work of knights, and as such, his knowledge there was lacking.
Taking Koros’ fort was going to be a challenge, and unlike the battle yesterday, a true test of the men in a pitched battle. There would be other such battles in the taking of this island and other larger ones, but this was the first chance Daemon and Cregan would have to test what they had learnt as squires of Prince Oberyn’s about the ways of war when assaulting a fort. Yes, Koros’ fort was likely not comparable to even the keep of a newly landed knight, but it would be a challenge to take.
Thinking of Prince Oberyn, turned Daemon’s thoughts to Sunspear, and the Winter Rose that was waiting for him there. It was possible, probable even, that Lord Eddard might have replied to his request for Alysanne’s hand, however, with no way to contact the Dornish capital, Daemon remained unaware of whether Alysanne would be his or not. All he had to keep him going in that regard, were the memories of their strolls together in Sunspear and the Shadow City, and the token of her affection. Even now, that was with him, secure under the gauntlet of his left arm.
“If there is nothing else that needs to be discussed,” he said, shifting his thoughts from Alysanne and waiting for a response from the men. When none came, he nodded. “We shall reconvene this evening after dinner. Until then, dismissed.” The group turned to leave, though Jekar stayed nearby, the squire knowing he had not been one of those dismissed.
He stepped into the building, closing the door once Jekar had followed along. “I know that I have already spoken to you about your performance yesterday,” he began as he turned to face his squire. “However, what I did not comment on at the time were the small issues I saw in your form. While they have not been exploited by an opponent yet, it is only a matter of time until they are. As time allows I will be overseeing your training to correct these flaws, and leaving orders with others to monitor your training if I am occupied.”
Jekar nodded while staying silent and Daemon moved toward him, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Everyone has flaws to overcome as they grow and learn. I myself have yet to place any training regarding sieges into practice. However, that will be rectified over the coming days. While plans are made for assaulting the pirate fort, I want you to watch, listen, and learn how that planning is done, and if you have a suggestion do not hesitate to offer it.”
“Yes, Ser.”
Daemon nodded and moved towards the desk in the room. “The battles we are fighting here are nothing compared to what I have heard true warfare was like during Robert’s Rebellion, however, unlike those knights and squires who confine themselves to Westeros during a time of peace, we are not some green men unskilled in experiencing true battle. Spars and tourneys, while enjoyable and offering gold, honour, and attention, are not a true test of one’s skill in battle. No, that can only come in war.”
“Yes, Ser.” Daemon looked at his squire and stayed quiet as it appeared the boy was considering something. “W-would it be possible for me to train with Ser Cayde and Rakakz when you are unavailable?” He asked slowly. Daemon’s brow rose and Jekar moved forward, hands raised as he hastily added. “It is not that I regret becoming your squire, My Lord. I merely wish to expand what I might learn so that I can serve you and Ser Cregan better in battles here and elsewhere in the future.”
Daemon chuckled. “I am not upset with your request, Jekar. Indeed, it is wise to seek knowledge from multiple sources, and that you would suggest it shows a wisdom beyond your years.” He moved closer to the boy again, and this time placed both hands on Jekar’s shoulders. “You are my first squire, and I know that there may be times when I forget some part of your training or am unable to teach something you wish to learn. In such cases, Cayde, Jaeronos, Bronn and others are worthy men to ask for that instruction. I would, however, caution you about seeking advice from Rakakz. He may have ruled over others for many years, but he was, and likely still considers himself, a pirate, and thus his words are not to be entirely trusted.”
“If you do not trust him, then why do you seek his counsel?”
Daemon shook his head. “I do not seek it, Jekar, but I cannot ignore it. Ser Cregan and it is a choice I agree with even if I fear it might one day cause us harm, was right to bring Rakakz into our ranks. It saved us unnecessary battles that would have weakened our numbers and resolve and ensured that our ranks swelled with new arms who chose to join us not were forced to. However, as he held rank as a self-proclaimed pirate lord, Ser Cregan had to grant him rank of equal stature within our forces. The only position of rank that was suitable was one below myself and Bronn. It does mean that Rakakz holds power, though few outside those who served him before he joined obey him without question.”
“Yes, Ser.”
Daemon grinned and then patted Jekar’s shoulders. “Good. Now off you go.” Jekar nodded and slipped from the room.
Once he was alone, Daemon pulled out the token Alysanne made for him. The small cloth held an image of his father’s house sigil, though with red and black reversed and the open hand of House Allyrion had been replaced by the direwolf of House Stark. Daemon knew that, if the Gods were kind and Lord Eddard approved, then when he wed Alysanne this would become the sigil of their new house. They would have to speak on a name and words, but Daemon was set on the marking on Alysanne’s token becoming the standard their family would carry forth.
Turning, he walked toward a small window in the building, looking roughly southwest, in the direction of Sunspear. “I will return to you, my winter rose,” he whispered to the wind, hoping it would carry his words to her ears. “Until then, I will treasure our time together and do all I can to work on creating land worthy for you to live on with me.”
As he kissed the cloth, he offered a prayer to the Gods – Old and New – that the future he dreamt of, that he fought for, would one day come true.
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