The rush of air beneath my wings, lifting me high among the clouds, was a sensation I would never tire of. Nor would I ever lose the thrill of immersing myself in Rian's mind, letting him soar freely while I savoured the spectacle. But today, and for as long as it would take to conquer Redwater, there would be no pleasure in the flight. Instead, I was here on a reconnaissance mission, while my body lay far below in the captain's cabin of the Red Kraken, guarded by my squires as the ship and a single galley tacked into the wind, heading away from Redwater.
Rian wasn’t flying over the water, but over the island instead, once more circling where the men who’d come down from Rakakz’s southern port were. The group were moving far slower than I’d first expected, and for a while, I’d wondered why that was. If they’d pushed, the group of perhaps fifty might’ve reached either of my ports inside of two days, three at the outside. However, it was nearing the end of the fourth day since Rian had first spotted them, and they still had a day or so to go.
The reason for the slow approach had become clear when Rian had seen two galleys sailing from Rakakz’s northern port toward the south. Once there, all four galleys at that port, along with most of the men present, had joined them and the group of six galleys had moved south.
Once that was known, the plans for dealing with the land force were altered, and instead of overwhelming force being sent out to engage it, and thus leave the port weakened, a new plan was devised. It was clear Rakakz intended to take Vaegon’s southern port, and then potentially push for the northern port that lay in the bay. The problem for him was that Vaegon was dead, having been executed by Daemon when he didn’t bend the knee, and thanks to Rian and the gulls with me, I knew his movements almost as soon as they started.
With that in mind, after a day planning out our counter with Daemon, Bronn, and Jaeronos, we’d devised a plan that while risky would, if executed even half as well as planned, shatter Rakakz’s power and ensure he would be easy pickings when we moved to remove his control over the centre of the island.
Yesterday, as Rakakz’s fleet moved south slowly, not wanting to attack at night as the sun would be in their eyes, my fleet had slipped from the port. Most of it, including one of the damaged galleys and the Pride of Saltbrook, had headed south, reaching the southern tip of the island. There, the fleet lay anchored waiting to spring into action, just out of sight of the port and Rakakz’s fleet once they edged around the point they’d sheltered behind the day before. However, not all of my ships had gone with Jaeronos as the Red Kraken and the Reaper’s Revenge had headed southeast out to sea.
The crew of the two ships I’d taken hadn’t liked sailing out into the open sea at night, but none had outright rejected my orders. From today at least, the part of the plan we were doing would become clear, as we swung wide around Rakakz’s fleet and headed north, intending to strike at one of the weakened ports there.
Bronn, along with Ymir and sixty of our best men had headed into the forest. About half the men had bows, and their orders were simple. Once the battle for the port commenced, they were to strike the land attack force in the rear, removing them for the battle and ensuring the pirates didn’t sneak into the port and do damage while it was focused on the fleet bearing down on it.
The majority of the men under my command remained in the port under Daemon’s command. Kaa was also there, but he was secured in the commander’s building and shouldn’t be in danger. That said, if any pirate was dumb enough to enter the room, Kaa was free to strike, and Daemon should’ve ensured that few if any men were present in the building before and during the battle. Most of the bows were with Daemon as well, though Jaeronos fleet had about fifty so that, if they needed to, they could add that firepower to that provided by the scorpions when they engaged Rakakz’s fleet.
Based on the plan that had existed when I’d departed, though it might’ve been altered slightly as my strike group had to set sail first, Rakakz’s fleet would be allowed to attack the port, hopefully beaching most if not all their galleys. From there Daemon’s men would engage them, Bronn’s those in the forest, while Jaeronos had the fleet sweep north, either to strike any ships still at sea or trap the pirates between his ships and Daemon’s men.
Casualties were going to be high among Daemon’s men, as Rakakz’s forces would attack thinking they had the advantage, but as the men with him were roughly equal to those attacking, and they had the defensive positions, I felt Daemon could hold the line long enough for Jaeronos to get into position to trap the pirates between the hammer and anvil. At that point, many, if not all, surviving pirates should surrender, and I’d be looking at a few hundred new men along with six sea-worthy galleys.
While that, and Bronn’s wiping out of the land force, was going on, the Kraken and Revenge would head north. The base plan was for me to strike the virtually abandoned southern port Rakakz controlled on the eastern coast. However, with just one galley docked in the northern one, and another at sea chasing a cog that looked like it would be escaping, that port was an option for me to strike at. Doing so was a far more dangerous option, but with Jaeronos meant to bring most of his fleet north to Rakakz’s southern port, then once, provided I attacked the north, Jaeronos would leave only enough men to secure, and then strip clean the southern port before sailing north to reinforce me.
Regardless of when the two eastern ports were taken, with the loss of most of his manpower and ships on the coast, the Gilded Hand would be left with just the single port in Redwater Bay. While it was the easier port to defend, situated in a small inlet at the point in the bay furthest from the sea, Rakakz couldn’t pull too many men from it. If he did, Allerion, who controlled the northern third of the island, would be in a position to strike.
Allerion held, from what I’d so far learnt, five ports. One lay in Redwater Bay while the others spanned the length of the northern coast. Vaegon’s former men only knew of four of those ports, but thanks to recon flights I’d discovered a fifth port. This sat about halfway to Allerion’s most easterly port, and while small – containing only a single galley and two longboats – served as a connection between the easternmost port and the others. A path that while overgrown was visible from the air ran from this new port toward the next port to the west, ensuring the ports remained in contact. That would cause me issues when it was time to move against Allerion, but for now, my focus was on Rakakz.
Between his bay port, and the northern one on the eastern coast, a well-defined path ran. The path was almost straight, and reasonably flat – at least from what Rian had seen so far – so sending signals from one port to the other wouldn’t be that hard. That alone was making me reluctant to strike the northern port as while I should have the men there outnumbered, a quiet signal to the bay port would see my target reinforced.
The one upside was that, since it would take me two to get to the southern port, and at least another to the northern one, I had time to consider my course. Still, regardless of which port was struck, Rakakz was going to be severely weakened within a quarter-moon’s time. The trick was taking advantage of that before he learnt of the failure of his attack.
From there, I’d have to scout The Lotus Isle and Coral Isle. While, in theory, the Lotus Prince and Salladhor Saan wouldn’t outright attack my newly taken ports, and were against slavery and more common pirate actions, I wouldn’t know their intentions until I spoke with them. that, however, would only take place once Redwater was mine, and Rakakz and Allerion either bent their knee or lost their head.
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(Bronn’s POV)
He kept low, using the bush and trees around him to stay as hidden as possible while he watched the group of pirates to his southwest. While they’d moved toward the port slowly, the pirates had their focus on threats from their front, not their side or rear, and as such, thanks to Ymir guiding them, Bronn and the men with him had managed to skirt around the pirates without alerting them to their presence.
The direwolf was a fucking gift from the gods in how easily he could track, and monitor a target without being seen. Ymir had alerted Bronn that they were nearing the pirates long before he had seen, heard, or smelt them. With the wind blowing from the southeast, they didn’t have to worry as much about sounds and scents alerting the pirates, and it granted Ymir even greater ability to track their targets.
That said, when Bronn first caught the scent of the pirates, he felt sorry for the direwolf. The pirates smelled like shit, and if not for years of being on battlefields and other places with such unsavoury smells, Bronn might have struggled to keep down his last meal. Ymir would be getting hit a thousand times worse, probably more as Cregan had explained how sharp the senses of the direwolf and his other animal companions were, and Bronn found himself feeling sympathy for the beast; an event he had never fucking expected a few years ago. Then again, much of what he was doing now was not how he had expected to be spending his time, but the pay was good and Cregan and the others were decent enough conversation that it almost made up for the lack of pussy for a post-battle fuck.
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Turning slowly, making his movements slightly erratic so that any who looked his way would not suspect a man was there, Bronn looked at the men with him. Most of those with him were sellswords or former pirates under the command of the Grim Prince. As this battle was, unlike the one in the port, more likely to be to the death – not least as none of the pirates could be allowed to slip away and cause havoc elsewhere – the men with Bronn had orders to give no quarter.
About half the men carried shortbows intended to target the pirates once the battle began while the rest would charge. Ideally, they would be close enough that the pirates would not know they were under attack until Bronn and his men were right on top of them; preferably with a blade ready to slip through their neck or spine.
While unarmed, and only wearing the lightest of armour that Cregan had created for him – the mail too heavy and loud for woodland combat – Ymir would be taking point. The idea that Bronn would trust a beast as large as a Sand Steed to fight with and protect him was another mad idea he’d have never considered a few years ago. Not before bringing that Northern bastard to Sunspear. Bronn still did not know what the issue was between Cregan and the Snow boy, nor did he care. All that mattered, then and now, was that he was paid a small fortune for getting the bastard to Sunspear.
Yet it was because of that that he found himself fighting beside a fucking direwolf, and trusting it more than most men to not stab – or in its case, claw – him in the back. The only issue was just how fucking quiet the beast could move, and if not for Chass stopping one of the pirates from freaking out, they might’ve lost their position, and angered the direwolf, when it had appeared back in the group late last night.
Turning back to examine the pirates, Bronn once more found himself counting any movement. The various counts he had done since they’d found the pirates aligned roughly with Cregan’s initial intelligence of fifty to sixty men. Bronn had that upper number with him, and while he’d have preferred more men, he knew this wasn’t the main battle. It would begin at the same time, which would be when Daemon blew twice on a horn he had, the trick was going to be to let the pirates begin their advance and sneak up on their rear without them realising they were about to be fucked in the arse.
Some of the pirates would no doubt slip away, but the orders were to ensure they would not get far. That order had been given by Cregan to Ymir and Bronn was glad he wasn’t the one to be hunted by the direwolf. None could survive this, and Bronn was happy about that.
Now, he understood why Cregan needed the pirates who surrendered to bend the knee, but he could not trust any of those fuckers half as far as he could throw them. Sellswords were paid to do a job, and only switched sides if they were paid more – or it was clear their employer was fucked – but pirates had no such standards. They turned their cloaks at the first sign of trouble, hoping to not be cast into irons.
So far Cregan had not been betrayed by any that had bent the knee, nor bar the battle at the end of The Whores campaign, had he suffered defeat, but Bronn knew that would not last. Pirates, even ones that had left the life, were worse than shit and should never be trusted. The only thing that could prevent them from turning on Cregan if he suffered several defeats was how much they believed in his goals, in him as a leader, and most importantly, how happy they were with their pay – which Bronn knew from experience was higher than several sellsword companies in Essos and the watch of various towns – and what Cregan was trying to build.
As much as Bronn might never admit it to any, he was slowly finding himself liking the idea of what Cregan was trying to carve out of the Stepstones. It might not become anything of the size of any part of the Seven Kingdoms, but it would be a good-sized domain. Bronn hoped that Cregan was successful, mainly because his position in Cregan’s forces meant that Bronn would get paid in coin and land for helping create it, but he knew the odds weren’t there.
The Gods, regardless of which religion they came from, were fickle fucks and sooner or later the winds would turn against Cregan. The trick was going to be to see how many of the men that remained stayed loyal to Cregan, and which would once more turn their cloaks or turn tail and run seeking self-preservation over fighting for a cause that was struggling, if not dying.
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(Daemon’s POV)
He stood at the edge of one of the buildings in the port, about a few hundred feet back from the docks. Most of his body was hidden behind the building, but his head was glancing out, a Myrish Eye raised to his face. Through the device, he could see the fleet of Rakakz the Gilded Hand approaching. The ships were slowly slipping around the edge of the coast as the sun rose and were using the light to attempt to hide their approach.
Since they were not directly between the rising sun the tactic was not perfect, but it had granted them a chance at partially obscuring their approach. It also meant that as battle raged, the sun would be in Daemon’s face, along with those of the men in the port with him.
The issue for the pirates was that not only did Daemon know they were approaching, but the men moving around the beach and docks – numbering around a hundred – were not the only men in the port, nor its only defences. The challenge Daemon had with his men was to ensure that the various surprises he had available to him remained hidden until after the pirates had committed fully to the attack.
The plan they had created to turn the attack into a trap was a bold one, but Daemon knew it was one Oberyn would have approved of, and he had little doubt that Cregan’s father was the inspiration for this plan. That said, without Cregan’s ability to skinchange they’d have remained unaware of the fleet until this morning, and have no hint of the force moving over the island to flank the port.
While he was raised to follow the Seven-who-are-One, Daemon was not a deeply religious man, and the more he saw Cregan use his bestial companions to his advantage, the less he considered the ability demonic. Without skinchanging, Daemon knew he, Cregan, and many others might have ended up dead in The Whores because of Aeron Indarys’ trap, and he was wise enough to understand that anything that granted an advantage before, during, or after a battle was not to be ignored because some distant god condemned it.
When Cregan had confessed to skinchanging into the minds of pirates to ensure their escape from Aeron’s trap, Daemon couldn’t shake the unease that settled over him. The very idea that someone could invade and control the mind of another man made his skin crawl. It was a power that, to many, could be seen as evil, and Daemon couldn't dismiss that thought. Even now, the memory of Cregan’s admission sent a shiver down his spine, one he knew would linger for years to come.
Daemon struggled to reconcile his feelings. The only reason he could accept what Cregan had done was the genuine disgust and regret Cregan had shown when he spoke of it. Daemon believed in his friend's sincerity, and that belief, coupled with the deep friendship they had rebuilt after years of distrust and dislike, made it easier to bear. The thought of marrying Alysanne Snow further solidified his resolve to accept Cregan’s actions, though it didn’t erase the lingering dread. Daemon knew that Cregan had felt he had no other choice, that it was a desperate act to save their lives. Yet, even with that understanding, the thought of it all continued to haunt him.
Since coming to Redwater, Daemon found himself thankful that Rian had returned, though even if the massive eagle had not arrived, the gulls Cregan had brought with them would have ensured they were aware of the impending pincer attack. Rian being here simply meant that they were aware earlier of the attack, and thus had more time to devise their counter.
The eagle was with Cregan, who sailed somewhere far to the southeast, while Ymir was with Bronn in the woods north of the port. Kaa remained in the port, secure in the commander’s building and while men were guarding the building, they had strict orders to not enter. The bloodflower viper would strike at any who entered, and Daemon did not doubt that the viper’s venom was potent enough to kill any bitten in less time than it would take for them to scream in pain.
There was a signal to tell the viper that it was no longer in danger, and not to attack any who entered the building, but Daemon was unsure of that signal – the tossing of a live fish would work. Even if it seemed it did, he was content to give the building a wide berth until Cregan returned or they had to abandon the port.
Through the Myrish Eye, Daemon saw the sixth and final galley slide around the edge of the coast. That was the last of the attacking fleet, and assuming they were all fully crewed, they’d be carrying around three hundred and fifty men. Daemon had slightly more than that under his command, but about thirty men, under the command of Lazo and Jovarn, had slipped from the port during the night.
Those men would by now be in position along the tops of the cliff that looked down on the approaching fleet and the port. It was not an overly high cliff, barely a hundred feet high, but it granted an elevated position for the men to rain down arrows on the galleys. They would, however, only do that once Daemon gave the signal, as while ensuring the port did not fall was the primary intent of this battle, the chance to capture Rakakz’s galleys, preferably all in working order, was a close second for the orders of battle.
The archers on the cliff would fire down once Daemon sounded the battle had begun, focusing their fire on the rear of the enemy fleet. Those ships were the most likely to either turn and withdraw when the trap was sprung or if they committed, the first that would try and escape once the pirate’s attack was broken.
Now, the plan was for Jaeronos to ensure they could not escape, but Daemon felt using the cliffs to target those ships, and hopefully lower the time it would take to secure them, would allow Jaeronos to turn and head north for the second part of the battleplan. Ideally, they would be able to do that without firing a bolt at the pirate vessels, but Daemon expected things would not go as smoothly as that.
“Iron Hands and Jeffery report the men are ready.”
Daemon lowered the Eye and looked down at Jekar as the boy relayed that the commanders of the two other hidden groups were in position. "Good," he said, smiling reassuringly at his squire. "I understand you might be nervous about entering battle again," he continued, handing the Eye to Jekar, "but I have faith in you. You have already proven your skill with your first kills." Though the boy nodded, Daemon could still see the uncertainty lingering in his eyes.
"Death is a part of life, Jekar," Daemon said, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. "As my squire, it is your duty to serve alongside me, even when that means confronting danger directly." He squeezed Jekar's shoulder, his voice firm yet encouraging. "Watching a man die is never easy, nor is the smell pleasant," he added, a wry smile tugging at his lips. Jekar smirked at the remark, finding some comfort in the levity. "But it is the price we pay to fulfil our duties as knights and squires. You have already faced battle, killed those who deserved it, and proven that the Warriors spirit beats strong within your heart."
Jekar nodded again, more resolutely this time, as he carefully secured the Myrish Eye in its pouch. With the pirates now approaching and the sun rising over their port bow, using the Eye could give away their position. They needed the element of surprise on their side, at least until the trap was sprung.
As Daemon watched the boy turn to place the Eye in a secure spot, he could not help but feel a pang of regret that there were no whorehouses nearby. Crude as Bronn was, he was not wrong about the value of a willing woman's company after battle. It helped soothe the nerves and would do Jekar good, taking the edge off his uncertainty and helping him step further into manhood.
For his part, Daemon would keep the vow he gave himself, not willing to take another to his sheets until he was either married to Alysanne – the cloth she’d given him secured under his armour – or Lord Stark had denied his request. For a lesser man, staying faithful to their love, or waiting patiently for the enemy to arrive might be a challenge, but for a Knight of Dorne, it was but a trivial matter to endure.
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