(Daemon’s POV)
He moved forward slowly, cautious of any pirate that might have been missed by the archers when they’d taken out the men at the wall. Calling it a wall was perhaps a mistake, as this port had an earthen mound surrounding it like Northpoint did, though it was half the height of that, and the wooden palisades atop the mound were either damaged or missing entirely. The only sections that were in decent condition were the main gate that protected the track leading to the southern port and the three watchtowers facing toward the western forest. The men there, along with another half dozen gathered at the various gaps in the mound or wall, had fallen silently in a hail of arrows. Now, with them taken out, Daemon led his men forward.
He knew that once they slipped through the earthen wall, battle was only a few heartbeats away, and he found himself looking forward to it. A few years ago, when appointed as Arianne’s sworn shield, he had been content with his life, but since the taking of Dustspear he had found that bar one reason, Sunspear held far less appeal than it once had. The call of battle, of testing his steel against others – even if they were but pirates – brought forth a fire he had never fully realised he had, nor that he had been missing until Arianne had assigned him to protect her paramour.
Reaching the wall, Daemon readied himself. A glance back confirmed that Jekar, equipped in armour that like Daemon’s had been darkened for this battle, was ready. The boy was understandably nervous, but Daemon knew he would be safe. Two of the more skilled sellswords were assigned to stay near him, and the hulking presence of Ymir added another layer to the boy’s protection. There was always a chance that Jekar – or either of Cregan’s squires – might die in this battle, but Daemon and Cregan had done what they could to ensure that didn’t happen.
After taking a moment, offering a small prayer to the gods – old and new – that he had survive this battle and others to return to see the one he yearned for, Daemon moved through the gap in the wall and looked around, and as he moved forward quickly, his sword thrust forward.
The man he had just skewered through the chest grunted at the unexpected attack, and as Daemon withdrew the blade, his shield came around. The metal-covered object slammed into the side of the pirate’s head. While that generated some sound, it was far less than the pirate would have made if able to call out about Daemon’s presence.
The body collapsed to the ground, the last flickers of life fading, and Daemon moved forward. Behind him, men poured through the gap he had taken and other sections of the wall. Daemon stood his ground, watching for any new threats as the men formed up with him. The port was laid out as Cregan had explained, and while many of the new Lieutenants would likely remain confused about how the information had been discovered, Daemon was glad for Cregan’s ability. Knowing the battlefield before combat took away a weakness that any competent enemy could exploit.
Once one of the men tapped their weapon against the back of his cuirass, Daemon advanced; the men moving with him. Others would spread out, heading toward the other breaches in the wall and then pushing inward toward the docks. The plan was remarkably similar to that used against the Grim Prince before his defeat, which made sense as this was another port under assault. The difference this time, at least for Daemon, was that he knew the lay of the land.
Reaching the first intersection of buildings, a place that opened into a small square, Daemon tensed. This was, according to Cregan, where men were often gathered. Given the time – with the sun not having yet risen over the mountains to the east – it was likely that any men there would be relaxing before a day of labour, but all would be armed.
Stepping out into the intersection, Dameon saw a dozen men. Most were gathered around a fire in the centre, no doubt having their morning meal. The few that were not saw him and those with him. “We are undagh!” The pained call died as an axe impacted the pirate’s chest. Daemon was not sure how far that attempted warning carried, but it had those in the intersection reacting.
Daemon surged forward, his blade flashing out, and the first pirate to die by his hand fell. At the same time, a howl echoed around them. Some of the pirates paused, confused by the sound of a predator so close by. Daemon, and those with him, did not and rushed forward.
The first battle of the port was over before he even had to use his shield to defend himself, but Daemon knew it would not be the last. Ymir’s howl would rouse those in the port, alerting them that something was amiss. With Cregan assaulting the main gate, the pirates’ focus should be there, which would allow Daemon and his men to get deeper into the port before Vaegon understood the true threat. To help with that, a group of those who’d come through the wall with him would break off and assault the gate from the inside. Thoughts about other parts of the battle slid from Daemon’s mind as he and the men around him resumed their advance.
Movement flashed before his eyes as he neared the far side of the intersection, and Daemon raised his shield. It vibrated twice, as two arrows struck it. Looking over the edge, he saw a dozen pirates. Three had bows and had hung back but the rest were rushing forward.
“Charge!”
Even as the word left his mouth, Daemon was moving, intent on getting past the oncoming pirates and taking down the archers behind them. His shield shifted, pushing the axe of one pirate away. That left the man exposed and his blade sunk deep into the pirate’s guts.
Even as the pirate gawked in shock, Daemon kept moving forward, the blade sinking through flesh with ease. A moment later, he crashed into the pirate shield-first, driving them back. At the same time, he withdrew his blade. As the pirate fell back, hands going to the fatal wound, a quick shift of his elbow had the point of his sword swinging around, adding another wound to the man’s chest.
Stepping over the dying man, Daemon advanced on the archers. Seeing them nocking new arrows, his head dropped low, using the shield to cover his approach. His steps became smaller just before the first of four arrows slammed into his shield; all harmlessly impacting, unable to pierce the treated wood.
Three steps after that, Daemon was at the archers. Like the first pirate he had killed, none were armed in much beyond clothing and his blade made quick work of two of them before the rest of his men joined him to finish off the rest.
Glancing around, Daemon checked, ensuring that his men were still in the fight. Pleased that none seemed to have fallen, he resumed his advance; shield forward ready for the next attack, the men falling into step at his sides.
The track at the other side of the intersection, one that led to the docks, was narrower than those through which they had so far passed. He took the centre point of the line as others moved closer or fell back. “Watch the flanks!” He said firmly. He did not shout, both because the men were at his shoulders and because it might alert any at the next junction.
That did not seem to matter as a dozen pirates rushed toward them, flowing from both sides of the upcoming junction. Daemon had just enough time to see that, like the pirates they had just killed, this group was generally unarmoured.
The lead pirate – one of the few to have any armour on, though it was only gambeson – came at him. The pirate’s crude blade slashed for his face.
Slowing, Daemon watched the short blade do nothing more than clip the top edge of his shield. A turn of his shield arm pushed the blade away faster, causing the pirate to move with the blade. A look of panic flashed in the pirate’s eyes as he realised who he was fighting was in full armour, though it faded as Daemon’s blade thrust up as he stepped in, piercing the pirate’s skin below the armpit.
The blade sunk it, clipping a rib before going deeper. The pirate gasped, as Daemon withdrew his blade. Before this fatally wounded fool could try anything, Daemon pushed forward with his shield, driving the metal into the pirate’s face.
Even as the pirate fell to the ground, Daemon advanced, seeking his next opponent. His blood sang with delight, enjoying the chaos as an axe clattered against his shield, and then chorused as his blade once more found flesh; leaving a deep gash in the leg of another pirate.
Another, then another pirate fell to the ground, wounded, but Daemon paid them little heed. He continued to push forward, and those around him did likewise. The men behind would finish off any that were struggling to survive the initial assault as they followed along behind.
The narrow confines of the alley ensured that against Daemon and those at his side who were armoured – though not to the extent he was – the pirates had little chance. As a sixth one fell to the ground, his leg collapsing as Daemon’s sword cut it to the bone, Daemon felt the shift in the air and saw those pirates at the rear of the pirate’s ranks step back.
Once the first turned and ran, the rest began to follow. Those at the front were doomed because of it. Either they stood and fought, and thus lost against better-armed and armoured opponents, or they turned and exposed their backs to Daemon’s men.
The next few seconds were chaos as this group of pirates routed, and Daemon was left disappointed. He was heartened though as, as they passed through the junction from where the pirate attack had come, the next row of buildings was the last before they reached the sand and pebbles of the beach. Beyond that, he could see the bow of one of the longboats, moored against the docks.
“Flank and forward!” He called out, moving toward the docks. The men fell into step at his sides while others would shift down each path at the junction, sweeping the paths clear and then, after joining up with others, pushing toward the docks from other directions.
Wary of what might await at the docks, Daemon’s pace was slow. As more of the docks and the beach where it joined the island came into view, he saw men waiting, bows, and most worryingly, crossbows, at the ready. His shield came up, ready to block any arrow or bolt that came toward him. However just before he braced, movement on the docks caught his attention.
His eyes widened as he saw men on the bows of two longboats, readying the scorpions that rested there. “Down!” Even as the order left his lips, he was dropping low. One of the scorpions fired its bolt, and Daemon watched as he sailed toward them.
He offered a quick prayer to the Gods when the bolt sailed high; slamming into the building to his right, though any reprieve was short as the other longboat was almost ready to fire its scorpion.
“Charge and scatter!” he called, pushing himself forward into the open dock area. The archers and crossbowmen aimed, and Daemon turned his shield toward them, hoping any bolt bound for him struck the shield and not him.
Several objects clipped or clattered into his shield and armour, but nothing punctured, and he made his way toward a cart. It lay between him and the longboats, and while the cart might not survive the bolt of a scorpion, it was the only cover available to him.
Around him, grunts and squeaks of pain came from his men; their weaker armour not saving them from arrows and bolts. As he reached the cart, he glanced back, seeing one pirate take a scorpion bolt to the chest. The man, or at least what was left of him as the impact crushed his chest, was lifted from his feet, and he and the bolt embedded through him crashed to the ground a few yards back. The man took out several others as he fell, but Daemon was heartened to see those further back loosing arrows in retaliation.
Seeing the pirate archers scatter as they came under fire, and praying those on the longboats were doing so as well, Daemon rushed from the cart, bearing down on the nearest pirate. The man turned, roaring in defiance, two axes in hand.
Daemon’s shield deflected the first attack, then his other arm shifted, turning his blade so that the other axe could not catch it. Pulling that arm back, the edge of his sword cut the man’s forearm to the bone. While the pirate did not drop the axe in that hand, he jerked back the arm. That was the opening Daemon was seeking.
His blade surged forward, and while the pirate was able to raise his arm, and push the blade away from his chest, the edge of the weapon cut a deep gasp across the pirate’s chest. Daemon turned as he pulled back the blade, deepening the wound.
The pirate turned with the attack, trying to keep the cut shallow, but in the process, he lost track of Daemon’s shield, and the metal came around, slamming into him.
One of the axes was knocked from his hand, but before the pirate could recover he jerked; Daemon’s blade thrusting deep into his gut.
Giving the now-dying pirate one last look, Daemon pulled his sword free, more blood flowing forth to colour the sands.
Turning, Daemon sought his next target, though four were already bearing toward him. All four, unlike most of the pirates, wore armour. While it was but chainmail, it would force Daemon to alter his attacks. However, it was the man leading the group who drew Daemon's attention.
That man, who was easily Daemon’s height even when considering the armour Dameon wore, held a massive two-handed great axe in his grasp. The head matched Cregan’s description as it circled around like a plate of metal from one side to the other. This was likely Vaegon, and as Daemon readied himself to engage the Pirate Lord and his men, Daemon felt a rush of excitement flow through him. Finally, he had an opponent worth fighting.
As the trio came closer, Daemon saw the face of the lead man. While he wore a helm, it was open enough that, where the metal stopped, scarred skin could be seen. Daemon smiled, moving to greet Vaegon Firetouched, looking forward to ending his reign of terror.
More pirates gathered behind Vaegon, seeking strength in their leader. “Take them down!” Daemon called, pointing his sword toward the growing group. If Vaegon fell, his men would break, and while Daemon would happily send every pirate present to the Seven Hells, he knew it was better if they bent the knee to Cregan.
Men, be they former pirates or sellswords, rushed to Daemon’s side as he moved to engage Vaegon. Off to one side, he saw Jekar fighting, his sword finding the flesh of a pirate. Once the battle was ended, Daemon would enjoy celebrating his squire’s first kill and sharing a drink to Vaegon’s death.
A pirate rushed past Vaegon, seeking the glory of taking Daemon down. Daemon stepped to one side, avoiding the rushed swing of the pirate’s falchion, and then stepped toward the man, driving the shield into him.
The pirate fell away, and Daemon continued toward Vaegon, sword and shield at the ready. Armoured they might be, and working as a group they probably would, but they had never crossed blades with a knight of Dorne. Still, Daemon wasn’t going to underestimate the group, because Vaegon had ruled his ports for going on ten years and his men should be experienced in combat.
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Daemon’s advance was stopped as Vaegon’s great axe swung around. The wide, circular blade cut a swathe through the air between them briskly, though it failed to strike sword, shield, or armour. The weapon was large, and it seemed Vaegon knew how to wield it, and those with him how to use those attacks to their advantage.
Daemon shifted to his right, moving to the single man on that side while the other two came from his left. This one was armed with a pair of short swords; the slight curve on the blades was uncommon in Westeros but thanks to Oberyn, Daemon had trained against such weapons.
The pirate attacked with well-timed strikes, each blow coming from different angles, yet every strike met Daemon’s shield. He managed to block one attack and swung his shield to intercept the other, trapping both blades.
With a twist and a turn of his arm, Daemon pushed aside the two pirate blades. However, before he could press forward, he was forced back as two more pirates surged into the fray.
An axe struck his shield, Daemon moving his arm to guide the attack away from the edge of the shield. A blade slid around the edge, seeking to use his move to strike. One foot moving back had the blade slide along the front of his armour. Moving his shield arm closer had the edge crash into the hand holding the attacking blade.
The weapon fell to the ground, though before Daemon could bring his blade around and wound or maim the pirate, he was forced to shift back. Vaegon was attacking again.
The great axe swooped in from the left, speeding toward him. Daemon believed he could push the attack away with his shield, but doing so might leave him exposed, so he chose to shift back, avoiding the attack entirely.
An axe caught the top of the shield before he could reset his feet. Instead of fighting the pull, Daemon went with it, turned his body, and then thrust his sword over the top of the shield. He felt the point strike flesh, which was followed by the pull on his shield ending and a gargled sound.
He moved forward, leading with his shield, and he was rewarded by it striking the pirate. Without looking, Daemon turned, ready to face another pirate.
His eyes widened as he saw a glint of metal rushing toward his head. He turned slightly and the blade grazed his helm. Another blade then clipped the armour on his arm without doing any damage.
Daemon was then forced back as Vaegon’s axe came around again, swooping in from above his shield. He turned, shifting his feet around on the uneven ground, and angled his shield. The axe clattered against it, jarring Daemon’s bones, but the attack was deflected away.
From the position he was in, he saw the pirate with a single blade thrusting forward. Daemon lifted his arm and shifted his chest, letting the point of the pirate’s blade crash and then bounce away from his pauldron.
With the pirate’s movement altered by his shifting, Daemon thrust his sword upward, driving it toward the pirate’s chest. The blade struck true, and the pirate stumbled, his hold on his weapon slipping. It then fell from his grasp when Daemon pulled his sword free.
Daemon’s focus shifted to the remaining pirate with Vaegon. The one with dual short blades.
The man came forward, blades at the ready. Daemon had the advantage in reach and protection, but the shorter blades might allow the pirate faster movement and allow the pirate to slip a blade through a joint in Daemon’s armour. Yet, for all the need to be wary of the blades, the great axe of Vaegon was a far more pressing threat.
The short blades came forward, moving fast and seeking a gap. Daemon used first sword and then shield to deflect strikes, shifting back to keep the pirate and Vaegon in sight.
The great axe swung around. Daemon saw he had no chance to avoid it without exposing himself to the other pirate. Knowing this, he tilted his shield, angling it so the axe did not just glance off.
The axe struck his shield, and Daemon felt his arm be driven into him. Instead of trying to fight the movement, he went with it, stepping back.
His sword came around, angling for Vaegon’s wrist. The pirate reacted by turning his arm and stepping away. As his blade clattered against a steel vambrace, Daemon saw the other pirate moving in.
His feet danced on the ground, taking him around. That exposed his back for but a moment, but with Vaegon’s axe diverted, and the distance to the other pirate great enough, no strike landed against his armour.
As he returned to face his foes, Daemon’s shield arm turned and lifted. As the second pirate came into sight, the man advancing with blades ready to strike, Dameon shifted his arm once again.
The hard lower edge of the shield slammed into the pirate, knocking him aside. Finishing his pivot, Daemon ducked low and extended his sword arm. His blade moved upward, cutting a deep gash across the pirate’s back.
As the pirate fell like a sack to the ground, Daemon found himself facing Vaegon, the great axe already sweeping back in. Angling his shield, Daemon braced as the great axe impacted, and then swung clear.
Stepping forward, he thrust his sword toward Vaegon. The pirate leader batted the sword away with the haft of his axe though it left them both off line. Daemon reset his stance, his blood pumping as he faced Vaegon Firetouched in single combat.
Vaegon stood for a second, his axe shifting to rest by his shoulder, watching Daemon. The slightest drooping of his head was matched by Daemon, and then he came at the knight.
Daemon moved back, watching Vaegon’s axe as it swooped and twirled around the gap between them. Vaegon was moving the weapon in smaller arcs now, not leaving himself as exposed as he had been when men had been ready to protect those gaps.
He stepped forward, only to slide back, the possible gap removed by the speed Vaegon swung his massive axe around. The pirate knew how to use the weapon and control the distance.
Behind Vaegon, Daemon saw men rushing near longboats, but he could not tell for whom those men fought. Taking his gaze from Vaegon for any more than a split second was dangerous. It would not matter if the bit of the axe were sharp or not, the speed it was moving would drive Daemon away and may break bones.
Three more minor openings came and went without Daemon being able to exploit them. Vaegon’s axe moved fast enough, and at angles that prevented Daemon’s blade from getting through without risking it being smashed away. Knowing this could not continue, and feeling he had the patterns Vaegon was using down, Daemon shifted.
Instead of attempting to take the small opening when it appeared, he stepped to his left and angled his shield. Vaegon’s axe came around, the pirate altering the path of the bit. However, Daemon tracked it well enough that when it struck his shield, it bounced clear.
The deflection forced Vaegon to shuffle to one side, and in the process expose himself.
Daemon’s sword slipped low. Vaegon grunted even as the blade was pulled back. The wound it caused wasn’t deep, but already blood was flowing down the pirate’s leg.
Leaning back, Daemon watched the axe flash through his vision. He was unable to take advantage of the next opening in Vaegon’s form, but that was fine. Taking a few steps back, he forced the pirate to follow him.
Once Vaegon had taken the bait, Daemon rushed forward even as Vaegon’s axe came crashing down from upon high. Daemon lifted his shield, angling it so that it and his armour could deflect the hit. At the same time, he thrust his blade forward, driving it deep into the pirate’s thigh.
The axe connected with his shield, but Daemon was able to hold his ground. At the same time, Vaegon stumbled to one side, the new wound and Daemon blocking the attack, destroying his balance.
Vaegon’s axe dug into the ground, sending pebbles and stones flying. Daemon barely noticed as some bounced against his armour. His focus was on Vaegon, and his blade was already moving again.
The swept up into Vaegon’s arm, and the pirate’s grip on his weapon slipped. Daemon’s shield then thrust forward, smashing into the pirate’s face.
Vaegon stumbled back, his leg giving way, and he fell to the ground. Not wanting to grant him the chance to stand, Daemon was upon him.
“Agh!” Vaegon grunted, his hands going to his chest as Daemon’s sword crashed into the mail of Vaegon’s armour. The mail held even as Daemon pushed forward, but it was enough to keep Vaegon on the ground.
The pirate grasped the blade, blood flowing from his palms, and twisted the sword to one side. To avoid falling, Daemon released his grip.
Vaegon turned with the sword, rolling over it. As he did, Daemon stepped forward and drove the base down. The point crashed into Vaegon’s back, drawing a loud grunt from the pirate.
Daemon lifted the shield and drove it down again, aiming to shatter the pirate’s back. A third strike was delivered, drawing a third grunt, before Daemon stepped back. As he did, he pulled a short blade from his belt. The secondary weapon was already moving down as Vaegon rolled over.
“Yield,” Daemon roared as he placed the short blade against Vaegon’s throat; one leg crashing onto the pirate’s arm as it grasped Daemon’s sword. Daemon did not mind if this pirate did not wish to yield, he understood that taking the man alive might be useful for information about the other pirates who ruled Redwater.
Vaegon glared at Daemon, and for a moment the knight felt he would have to kill the pirate. However, Vaegon’s gaze shifted to Daemon’s right, and from there, a deep, spine-rattling growl echoed through Daemon’s armour. While Vaegon couldn’t see it, Daemon grinned, knowing the source of that sound. “Yield, or die.”
The pirate’s focus returned to Daemon, panic beginning to blossom in his eyes. “I…” Vaegon began, his voice hoarse, and the movement drawing a sliver of blood as he pressed against Daemon’s blade. “Yield.”
Daemon grunted in satisfaction and pulled his blade back from the pirate’s neck. Before standing he slammed his shield down, crashing it into Vaegon’s arm and forcing the pirate to release the grip on his sword. “Unless you wish to become direwolf chow, stay very fucking still,” He added as he resecured the short blade against his belt.
After grasping his sword, glad to have it back in his hand, Daemon stood, though throughout the entire movement, his eyes never left the pirate at his feet. Taking a step back, the large form of Ymir came into sight. “If he moves, remove a limb,” the direwolf growled, happy at the offer, “though leave the head for now.”
As Ymir moved closer, one massive paw pressing down on Vaegon’s chest, Daemon realised that around them men were cheering. The sights and sound of the battle had all but vanished as he focused on taking down the so-called pirate lord that now lay at his feet.
Looking around, he saw that the pirates had knelt, blades dropped while those who fought under his command were cheering, celebrating the battle. Daemon thrust his sword skyward, roaring in delight at his victory. That set off another round of cheers.
As the moment passed, Daemon turned, and as he sheathed his sword, he looked around. Bodies lay everywhere, though far fewer than he had have expected, and most appeared to be pirates under Vaegon’s command. His eyes quickly caught sight of Jekar, and he moved toward his squire.
“Jekar,” he said once closer, the boy snapping around to face him. He still held his blade tightly, blood dripping from it and from his armour. Daemon’s eyes scanned the armour, and he sighed in relief at understanding the blood was not from his squire. “You fought well,” he said, placing his no-free sword hand on the boy’s shoulder. “And claimed your first kill.”
“I… I…” Jekar turned slowly to look at Daemon. His face was pale, and Daemon knew well the reason.
“You did what needed to be done,” He said gently, as he squeezed the boy’s shoulder. “The men that die by your sword deserve their fate. Their actions were unworthy of a knight of Dorne.” Jekar nodded, though Daemon was unsure if the words were sinking in. “Come, let us see if we can find Edric and Trystane. Let us show them that you are worthy of being my squire, and one day becoming a knight.”
Daemon had to give the boy a gentle push, but Jekar started walking with him. Daemon understood how he felt, remembering the first time he had killed while squiring for Oberyn Martell. The bandit had been one of several dozen that had attacked them on the road to Hellholt. At the time, Daemon had been much like Jekar; uncertain of what he had done and feeling sick to his stomach. Yet, with time, experience and patience, Daemon knew that the bandit deserved his fate. As did whichever pirates Jekar had killed this day.
As they moved, Daemon saw Cregan heading toward him. Edric Dayne and Trystane were a few steps behind. The two squires seemed as shocked as Jekar, though neither appeared to have tasted battle. No doubt seeing the aftermath of the chaos of battle was a shock to them as it was to Jekar. They would have known that war brought death, and had seen animals butchered before – Cregan and he had taken the squires and young Morsh to the butchers to see animals killed mere days after the group had sworn themselves to their service – but seeing the bodies of men in such state was always an experience the first time it occurred. The boys would get stronger, they had little choice in the matter if they wished to be knights and with the battles still to come on Redwater and beyond.
Thinking on the future, Daemon wondered what Cregan’s plans for Redwater would be once it was cleansed of pirates. Building up Dustspear was the clear intent for now, but Redwater was thrice the size of Dustspear, and perhaps more importantly twice as far from Sunspear. Cregan would not want his seat to be that far from Arianne, which would leave an island – according to the maps – the size of Estermont needing a lord to rule it.
Perhaps, just perhaps, Daemon wondered, that might become him with Alysanne ruling at his side.
… …
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(Cregan’s POV)
I leaned against the central building of the port, watching as the last of Vaegon’s men were frogmarched along the pier. They were the crew of the two longboats that had been further out when we’d take the port. Since neither had been watching the port, nor close enough to see what was happening this morning, the ships had sailed back into port none-the-wiser that Vaegon no longer ruled here.
Vaegon had, as expected, rejected my offer to bend the knee, and Daemon had removed his head not long after. Normally I’d have done so, as I had passed the sentence, but Daemon had been the one to defeat Vaegon and take the port, and thus I felt the honour was his. After that, eight men of the nearly one hundred and fifty who survived the assault had chosen to not bend the knee. They had joined Vaegon in death.
Of those who signed my charter and bent the knee, two had been former lieutenants of Vaegon’s, and they were the ones who’d help ensure the longboats that were now docked had sailed into the port unaware of the trap they’d entered until it was too late. Neither of those former lieutenants, nor the roughly three hundred in total – assuming the crews of these two longboats all bent the knee – that now served me were trustworthy, but I needed the manpower to take out Rakakz and Allerion.
Rakakz would be first as he controlled the central area of the island, and when it became time to attack his ports, the men who’d bent the knee since my landing on Redwater would be in the vanguard. Not all of them, mind you, and not without others I felt were at least partially trustworthy, but the majority would be Vaegon’s former men.
While that was a dangerous option as they might well turn and fight my forces alongside Rakakz’s men, after discovering the state of the two dozen slaves in the northern port matched those in the southern port – perhaps they were even worse – if I didn’t need the manpower, I’d have executed everyone here.
To ease my mind on the matter, and ensure that no one tried to take advantage of those poor, mind-broken souls, they along with everything of worth that wasn’t food, drink, or weaponry was being gathered and would be sent to the southern port. They’d then be transported by the Pride to Northpoint. It would take the cog and her escort at least half a moon to get there and back. By then I’d ideally have two if not all of Rakakz’s ports under my control.
The initial intelligence had suggested Rakakz and Allerion had just a pair of ports; much like Vaegon before his demise. From speaking with men who’d bent the knees, including Vaegon’s two former lieutenants – Marraro and Jaqur – I’d discovered that Rakakz had three while Allerion was believed to have four. That, assuming similar numbers of men at these new ports, suggested even with Vaegon’s men now under my banner, at best I’d be able to match Allerion’s forces. If he allied with Rakakz, then I’d be fighting from an inferior position in almost every regard.
The recently discovered Rakakz port sat on Redwater’s east coast, about halfway between his other port there and the one I now control to the south. It, along with the port further north, suggested he used them to raid any trade vessels moving through the Steps, against forces from the Lotus Prince and Salladhor Saan, and to defend from attacks by Allerion from the north. In theory, the new port was a small one, but its mere existence altered my plans for taking out the Gilded Hand before facing off against Allerion.
It was good that, as far as I could tell, no one had escaped my attacks on Vaegon’s ports as it granted me time to re-evaluate my next move. Rakakz’s bay port was the obvious target, but it could be supported easily by one of the east-coast ports. I’d also have to be cautious of Allerion moving from his bay port to either attack my rear while I took Rakakz’s port or sail south to attack the port where I now stood.
To grant me a larger force in the bay, when the Pride sailed out, two other galleys would go with it, though when the small force reached the southern tip of Redwater, those galleys would turn north and head toward this port. While the bay was better suited to longboats than galleys, the extra ships – and the increased firepower of their scorpions – would help ensure this port wasn’t exposed to a counterassault when I moved against Rakakz.
The rest of my fleet would stay in the other port, with the sails of the three capture…
My thoughts ground to a halt as I felt a pull against my mind. Knowing it was coming from Rian, who was, as usual, flying high above the island, I headed into the building I’d been leaning against. Once inside, I found Vaegon’s former command chair and sat down in it before closing my eyes.
The next sight I saw, as it did each time I experienced it, took my breath away. Soaring above the clouds, having sight of not just Redwater but other islands in the Stepstones, was a view that continued to amaze me. However, I wasn’t here to enjoy a sightseeing tour. Rian had something to show me, and I let him remain in control of his body, settling in as a passenger.
The massive eagle – his wingspan was half again as wide as I was tall, which was far beyond what his species was generally capable of – understood my intent, and as I enjoyed the sensation of the wind sweeping over his feathers, he turned northward.
The ports I’d just been thinking about came into sight, and I confirmed that the port I’d only just learnt of was smaller than either of Vaegon’s. Still, even if it occupied less ground, its naval force was an issue. Two ships – galleys by the look of them – sat at the docks while eastward, about two leagues eastward, two other galleys were closing fast on a single vessel.
While I was curious about the vessel, as it appeared to be more akin to a carrack than a cog, it wasn’t that Rian wanted to show me. Nor was it the layout of the port the galleys had likely emerged from. Instead, he swooped around and dove, bringing us back to what I was treating as the rough border between territory controlled by Vaegon and Rakakz.
That was marked by the narrowest point in the land between the ports each had controlled, though it was closer to Rakakz’s ports than either of Vaegon’s former ones. Into the bay, a small river flowed, supposedly starring in the hills and mountains that ran through the middle of Rakakz’s territory. Another river flowed toward the eastern shore from the same area, though this one was narrower and shallower.
The presence of freshwater – or at least more as streams ran near each of Vaegon’s former ports – along with mountains and forests suggested Redwater held an equal density of natural resources as Dustspear. They would, though, likely be less developed as the island lay further from Westeros than Dustspear. Hells, based on the maps, the closest point of Redwater to Westeros was roughly an equal distance from the Disputed Lands of Essos.
Rian finished his circling descent, and though we’d not dropped low enough that we were clearing the tops of the forest, the individual trees in the forest that covered most of the island were visible, as were the gaps between them. It was in one of those that I saw movement.
At first, I thought perhaps it was a beast akin to a bear that roamed the forest. If so, Ymir would enjoy the challenge to his position as the alpha predator of the island. However, as another shadow moved through a gap in the canopy, I understood it wasn’t a bear but a man.
As Rian continued to soar high above the forest, through his eyes I saw more men moving below. All were heading south, and given we were close to Rakakz’s south-eastern port, it was obvious these men were his, and that they were launching a raid on Vaegon. It wasn’t certain which port they’d be attacking, as they still had a day’s – or perhaps two – trek to reach either, but that was something Rian or I could monitor as the day progressed.
I offered a thought of thanks to Rian for alerting me to the movement and then slid from his mind. Once back in my body, I looked around, blinking as I re-adapted to my surroundings. While the aftereffects of skinchanging were far less now than they’d once been, I was still disoriented for a few moments.
“Edric!” I called once I felt comfortable again. The door opened, and the heir to Starfall – and if I trained him well, the next Sword of the Morning – opened the door. “Summon Daemon and Jaeronos,” I ordered, “and bring my map of the Steps.” He gave a small nod and then left, closing the door behind him.
Once alone, I stood and cleared the table that Vaegon had used. Rakakz launching a raid was a smart move, as the forest would cover much of his approach, and he’d probably done so before. The difference this time was that Vaegon was gone and because of Rian I was aware of the impending raid.
The lay of the land might not be certain, but it shouldn’t be too difficult to ensure the raid not only failed, but that none of the Gilded Hand’s men returned to tell Rakakz that he no longer faced Vaegon, but instead found himself opposed by the Bloody Wolf.
… …