(Jaeronos’ POV)
Jaeronos hated waiting.
The wait before a battle was the worst. When you knew a fight was coming, had everything ready, and all that was left was to sit on your ass until the chaos started—that was what he despised. The boredom, the stillness. It made his mind itch.
He was stuck in the cabin of the Coral Howl, trying to ignore the damned gull squawking in its cage. Though it caused his thoughts to wander to why he was here in the first place: Cregan Sand.
Jaeronos had expected easy coin when he heard about the job. Attack a pirate base, get paid after. Simple. But instead of some princeling, he found himself face-to-face with Cregan Sand, the Bastard of Starfall. The boy looked green, barely more than a kid, slim and tall, but those eyes—those eyes had seen battle. Jaeronos had heard the tales of Cregan killing an Ironborn lord and taking his Valyrian steel sword, but until that meeting, he hadn’t believed a word of it. One look into those cold, purple eyes, though, and he knew the stories had some truth to them.
Cregan was made for war, but the boy did not fully realise it yet. He had not accepted the thrill of battle, the rush of bloodshed, not like Jaeronos had. But he would. The Stepstones would teach him that, and Jaeronos was more than willing to follow along for the ride, especially with the coin Cregan was paying.
Jaeronos did not care about the politics, the magic, or any grand dreams Cregan might have. He was here for the fight and the pay, nothing more. Let the boy figure out the rest on his own. What mattered was that Cregan had a plan, a bold one, and Jaeronos was ready to play his part in it.
The waiting was the worst part, though. And the damn gull wasn’t making it any easier.
… …
----------------------------------------
… …
(Cregan’s POV)
As had been the case for most of my waking hours since Rian had first alerted me to the oncoming attack, I found myself in the mind of a bird high above Redwater. At the moment, however, I wasn’t sharing the eagle’s body, but instead controlling the frame of a mind-broken gull. Rian was flying further to the north, scouting the twin ports of Rakakz for any change in their situations while I was using the gull to monitor events to the south, and the battle that was not far from happening.
Below me, the six galleys sent by Rakakz were slipping closer to the port I controlled. They’d rounded the corner of the island, and with the rising sun at their backs, bearing down on Dameon and the men stationed there to greet them. Most of the men were hidden behind a few rows of buildings, gathered in shelter there out of sight of the approaching pirates, though about thirty were on the cliffs overlooking the approaching fleet and port.
When I first saw them, I feared the pirates had landed men from the galleys during the night, and they would link up with the men Bronn and Ymir were to engage. However, those concerns were quickly dismissed as I caught sight of Jovarn as the men moved to the cliff edge, though not so close that those on the galleys below might spot them. That made clear Daemon had been the one to send the men there, altering the plan I’d known of when I’d set sail aboard the Kraken. The change was a bold move, as it would cost Daemon men for the fight in the port, but if those on the cliffs could cause chaos in the pirate fleet just as it neared the port, then it would be a successful one.
Shifting my sight north of the cliffs, through the gaps in the canopy, I tried to pick out the men, regardless of banner, there. I knew Bronn was down there, as I could sense Ymir’s presence, but the forest was too thick, and with both groups of men stationary, none were easily spottable from above. All I could hope was that Bronn, Ymir, and those with them were in position to attack whenever Daemon gave the signal.
Turning my wings to drift south, and be carried higher by the wind and it brushed over my feathers, I saw the rest of my fleet. They’d slowly begun sailing eastward, tacking into the wind which blew from the southeast, as if heading away from Redwater and bound for Volantis. The pirates would’ve seen the fleet, but given the distances between them, the fact the sigil on the sails of his ships would be unknown to the pirates, and the direction Jaeronos’ fleet was heading, they’d have, I hoped, dismissed them as a threat or juicer target.
Jaeronos would be waiting down there for my second signal. The first had been for him to sail eastward, and the next would be to swing northwest, aiming to strike the pirate fleet from the rear. When they made that move the men aboard would man the oars, and power the fleet closer as the wind, which was in our favour, blew in from astern.
Circling back toward the pirate fleet, the faint flicker of something catching the sunlight drew my attention. The movement that caused it came from the quarterdeck of the lead galley and I saw one of the two men there holding up a Myrish Eye. Given the other man was at the helm, the man with the Eye was likely the commander of the assault.
The commander lowered the Eye slightly and tilted his head. Whatever he said never reached me, the winds carrying them far from the gull’s weak ears, but the sudden increase in movement on the galley told me something was happening. The men that were moving joined those already at the oars, and their pace quickened, pushing the galley forward and helping it ride higher on the crest of the next wave. Behind it, the other galleys copied the movement making clear the commander was committing to the attack.
Watching the commander, I noted the lack of an armoured vambrace or at least anything that would be unique or special enough to fit with Rakakz’s title of The Gilded Hand. That meant the Pirate Lord was in one of the other ports, most likely the one in the Bay, which would filter into my plans for which of the eastern ports to attack.
Knowing that it was time to set the trap, I slipped from the mind of the gull – though not before commanding it to return to the Kraken, and entered the mind of the only beast I had any link to that lay to the south.
Shaking the head of the new gull as I grew accustomed to my location, I turned around. the room was dimly lit, the only light coming from two pairs of windows that were partially covered over the stern of the war galley. Jaeronos was at a table nearby, looking at something, though he turned when I had the gull call out.
He moved closer, his lips moving as he asked if it was time. I had the gull nod and then used its beak to tap six times at the bars of the cage it was in. I then looked north and spread my wings. That signalled the pirate ships were going full speed for the port. After nodding in understanding, Jaeronos left, and as fresh light flooded the room – coming from the door he’d opened – I heard him call out to his crew.
With my part now completed, I slipped from the mind of the gull and returned my thoughts to my body.
As always, there was a moment where I had to readjust, the weaker eyesight and different limbs causing a moment of confusion. I wondered if the weaker vision my human eyes had might be improved further by getting to a Level 10 bond with Rian. At Level 5, I’d gained sharper sight, though not to the level of Rian or any bird I’d dominated and seen through the eyes of.
At Level 10 with Kaa, the weak heat sense I’d gained from our Level 5 bond which extended a few metres beyond me and only alerted me to nearby movement, had increased to superior reflexes. While not insane, when combined with the rough danger sense I had from Ymir’s bond reaching Level 5, meant I was able to react to threats faster than I otherwise could. Something I’d benefited from, both in battle and out.
Once re-settled into my body, I stood and left the main cabin of the war galley. Stepping out, I saw the short corridor to the main deck open. “Stay here,” I said to Edric and Trystane, the squires having taken watch outside my cabin while my mind was elsewhere. “I shall return shortly.”
Stepping onto the deck, I took a deep breath, enjoying the clean sea air. With that done, I turned and moved to the short flight of stairs that led to the quarterdeck. Halfway up it, I stopped as I caught Miltar’s attention. “Turn us due north!”
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
“Aye Captain,” Miltar responded, his hands rotating the wheel and turning the rudder. As the ship slipped to port, I looked back to the deck. “Full sails!”
The men on deck responded to my command, and as I stepped back toward the short corridor that led to my cabin, I saw the sails being unfurled fully. While the wind was coming at us from the stern side, starboard, it would help push us north faster. Barring any setback, we’d be beyond the point on the coast where the pirate fleet had gathered by midday, and halfway to the southern port by nightfall. Perhaps even further if the oars were fully manned and the speed increased.
I gave my squires a nod as I moved past them into my cabin, and after flicking the latch to ensure none could enter without creaking the door down first, returned to my bed. While I could rest my body on a chair, with the chop of the sea, even as gentle as it was now, I found it safer to rest on the bed while my mind was elsewhere.
I might not be able to fight in the battle at my port, but I would watch it. Once it was over, provided the gods hadn’t decided to rig the dice rolls against my men, I’d slip into Rian’s mind and see how things were at my potential targets.
… …
----------------------------------------
… …
(Daemon’s POV)
Staying in his hidden location, only his head – the helm opened to grant him clearer sight – peeking around the corner of the building. Even without risking using the Myrish Eye, and thus giving away that they knew the fleet was approaching before they should, he had seen the increased speed of the galleys. The oars might be too fine a detail to determine, but the way the ships rose higher on the crests of waves made clear their speed had increased.
The men on the docks had seen the approaching fleet, and begun preparing defences. The two moored galleys had been shifted as best they could. The scorpions, already loosened days before for this, moved to the quarterdecks of the ships, though both remained covered to not alert the pirates that the men of the port were prepared for their attack.
Elsewhere men were slipping on armour and collecting weapons that they had not carried while going about their morning duties. A handful of men, perhaps a third of those in sight of the pirate fleet, had bows with arrows in quivers on their person, or resting on nearby barrels, crates, and the like. Anything that could be turned into a makeshift barrier had been, though the few carts and rowing boats in and around the docks were less than there normally would be. Daemon had ensured that most were moved back, placed down alleyways to deny the pirates cover once they made landfall, blocked off certain paths into the port, and provided cover for the men that waited further back to counterattack.
He remained where he was, waiting patiently. Battle was approaching, and he could feel the surge of excitement washing over him at that, but was not letting the urge to do something force him into making a mistake. “Easy there,” He said without turning as a sound came from his side.
“Sorry,” Jekar whispered, making Daemon smirk. While he had been nervous earlier, the same excitement that flowed through Daemon was affecting his squire. “It’s just…”
“I know,” Dameon cut in. “But if we act too early and rush from our positions before the enemy is on the beach, then it will all be for nothing.”
Jekar did not reply, choosing instead to remain silent and Daemon assumed his words had worked to quell the squire’s desire to fight. At least until the battle began. With the matter handled, Daemon returned his full attention to the approaching fleet. Time slowed as he found himself willing the galleys to come closer, to begin their final push to reach the port.
The familiar strange stillness fell over Daemon and others. Everyone knew what was about to happen, that in minutes many of them might well be lying dead on the ground, yet none moved from their position. None turned tail and ran from what awaited them. This was their fate and they would face it like warriors.
Daemon smiled as the oars on the lead galley moved quicker. The pirate’s leader had committed. “Signal Iron Hands and Jeffrey,” he said quietly, knowing Jekar was there. “Our enemy has committed but they are to remain hidden until the second blow of my horn.”
Gravel being kicked up was the reply he got from his squire, but Daemon was fine with that. Committed the pirates might be, but the sound of men that they could not see shouting would have them falter. They needed the pirates to reach the docks, to commit entirely to the attack for the trap to capture all in its net, and Daemon would be the one to reveal the truth when he stepped into the light.
His armour was still darkened, still smeared with tar and dirt to hide the shine of it, but even so, the sight of a fully armoured figure in what should be a pirate port would draw attention. The pirates would surge toward him, all seeking the honour of striking him down. However, as he brought one wrist to his mouth, placing a small kiss over where he had secured Alysanne’s token of affection, he knew none he faced today would have that honour.
He would survive this battle, and all that followed, as unlike those he faced, he had something beyond himself worth fighting for. Worth driving back death for. Nothing would prevent him from once more seeing the eyes of the woman he loved.
… …
----------------------------------------
… …
(Bronn’s POV)
Bronn was growing bored of this. He had spent the fucking night watching these pirates, and now, as the morning grew longer, still found himself waiting. He knew he had to wait for Daemon fucking Sand to blow the horn before he and the men with him could attack, but if he had to spend the day just sitting here, waiting for that Gods-damned horn to blow, he would give the Dornish knight a piece of his fucking mind.
The only upside was that, for all that he was annoyed with being stuck out here waiting for the battle to begin, the pirates he was targeting had been in the forest longer, and they knew nothing of Bronn, nor the men and direwolf with him.
Sounds of the animals in the forest echoed around him, but Bronn gave it little thought. Instead, his focus was on the familiar quiet that filled the air for his men and the pirates. The quiet was normal, and it did not concern Bronn, as he used the time to consider ways he might ensure he survived this battle and enjoyed any celebration that came after. The only downside of that celebration, as with each that had taken place on this island already, was that there were no women to enjoy alongside the drink.
Technically, there were women on the island, but those were former slaves and Cregan was clear that they were not to be touched. Bronn considered that rule, and a few of the others Cregan had explained to every man who had signed on with him, a little odd, as looting and pillaging were standard things that happened after a battle. However, he was willing to accept them because of how well Cregan paid him. Hells, he even helped enforce the rules every man agreed to, though none had attempted to challenge Cregan over raping a prisoner or slave yet.
A faint rustling had Bronn tense, one hand slipping to a dagger at his belt, though he relaxed as he saw the shifting black mass of Ymir. Unlike the over a hundred men stuck in the forest waiting for the battle to begin, the direwolf seemed unbothered and unaware of the stretching quiet that existed as everyone waited for the start of the battle. Ymir looked, for all the world, as if he was somewhere else, lazing around. Yet, for a beast the size of a horse, the direwolf could move with such silence that he had come close to disturbing several of the men under Bronn’s command, and if not for others stopping them from reacting, their ambush might have failed before it had begun.
What caught Bronn’s attention was that Ymir was not simply shifting around, trying to get more comfortable. No, the hairs down the direwolf’s neck were standing, and the beast’s muscles tensing. Bronn did not understand how the direwolf seemed to sense a battle was to begin before any signal was given, but after several battles fighting beside Ymir, he had learnt to accept the signs, and his other hand slipped to an axe while the other drew the dagger he had grasped from its sheath.
Proving once again that the direwolf had some extra sense for bloodshed, the moment Bronn had his hand on the axe, a horn echoed through the forest. Men, be they those under his command, or his targets, shifted at the sound even as the horn blew again. That was the signal from Daemon that the battle for the port was underway.
The gentle rustling of leaves to his side had Bronn’s attention, and he saw Ymir slipping away, heading north. “Good hunting,” he whispered to the beast, knowing it would move to strike from there, cutting down any man who escaped from Bronn and his men. Any that considered themselves lucky to get away would learn, for however short their lives ended up being after then, that they’d have been better dying in battle.
The direwolf didn’t respond, nor did Bronn give it any thought. His focus remained on the men ahead, waiting to see how they reacted, and when he and his men could descend on them, taking them out before they knew what was happening.
… …
----------------------------------------
… …
(Jaeronos’ POV)
He stood at the bow of the Coral Howl looking through the Myrish Eye toward the port he and the fleet had sailed from the day before. The pirate ships were racing toward it, their oars flashing through the water rapidly, propelling them forward. He was too far away to know when Daemon would blow the horn signalling the battle was beginning, but the shift in speed of the pirate vessels was all he needed to know it was time.
“Hard to port!” he called out, knowing the men on deck would relay the helm. “Bring us around into the wind!”
While the pirate fleet had to tack slightly with the wind, because of where they had sailed this morning, Jaeronos’ fleet lay southeast of the port, meaning the wind was almost directly behind them. when combined with the rested men who would be rushing to man the oars, that would carry his fleet into the battle quickly. The trick was going to be getting there before Daemon and the men in the port were overwhelmed, and before the pirates, seeing his fleet incoming, decided to turn tail and run.
On either side of him, Jaeronos could hear men moving, those men readying the four scorpions that rested on the bow of the Howl. The others would be aimed forward as best they could, but these four – along with the pair at the front of the smaller galleys – would be the primary ranged weapons the fleet would use. There were a few dozen bows stored on the Howl and some of the galleys, but none had the range of Cregan’s weirwood bow.
As he felt the wind ruffle the back of his skull, signifying the ship had turned to be carried by the wind, he issued another order. “Signal the galleys. V formation, off-centre to port!” The formation was a basic one, but with the need to hide their intent over, it would allow the galleys to spread out and bring their scorpions to bear. The extra command would mean that two galleys would be to the Cowl’s starboard, allowing them more chance to intercept any pirate vessel that tried to escape back to their home ports.
The damaged galley, without repaired sails, would trail behind, with the men there given the chance to prove they had some use by trying to keep up with the rest of the attacking fleet with just oars alone. Further back, the Pride of Saltbrook would also turn, though it would bank away from the damaged galley just in case those men tried to take the cog. While the cog lacked extra warriors onboard, the crew were trusted, trained, and should be capable of repelling any attempt at betrayal from the damaged galley if the men there chose to try their luck and turn their cloaks again.
Ideally, Jaeronos would have preferred for the Pride to sail away, heading back to Dustspear. However, while the winds were currently favourable, the ship would have to travel without escort, and that was not something he or Cregan were willing to risk. Therefore, it would remain close to the fleet, but far enough back that it should not be threatened by the battle the Howl now raced toward.
With just three galleys to support the Howl, they would be undermanned if the engagement was to be a purely naval one. However, today that was not the case. Instead, they were the hammer against Daemon’s anvil, designed to crush the pirate fleet between them.