(Daemon’s POV)
His blade came up with his arm, the point of the blade along with some of the top section, slashing against and then through the gambeson the pirate wore. At the same time, his shield arm was shifting, angling the metal to deflect away the attack of another pirate.
The man his blade had caught turned, the wound deep enough to unbalance him, and as the steel slipped free, blood gushed forth from the wound. Daemon turned, using his shield to guide the attack of the other pirate further away, and straightened his arm.
The point dug in deep, drawing a grunt from the second pirate even as the first fell to his knees trying desperately to hold in his steaming guts. The man was not dead yet nor was the one Daemon had just stabbed, but in the melee of battle, Daemon was not moving to ensure they died quicker. There were too many opponents, too many men seeking his head, for Daemon to risk diverting his blade down, removing it for a few seconds from being able to defend and attack against the next rush of pirates who came at him.
Through the slit in his helm, as he pulled his sword free of the side of the pirate he had just stabbed, he saw two more rushing toward him; one of Dameon’s men falling to the ground half a yard behind them, blood flowing from a deep wound to his gut.
Ever since the pirates had beached half their galleys, and Dameon had blown the horn signalling the counterattack, this had been the pattern of battle. The moment he had stepped into the light, even with his armour darkened, the pirates had understood that he commanded the defences. That his death would win them the battle and grant them a greater share of whatever loot they could find in the aftermath.
That, however, was exactly what Daemon relied on. Aside from Vaegon with his massive axe and a few pirates wielding maces or hammers, none of them had weapons that could seriously threaten his plate armour. That didn’t mean he was letting blades get too close—far from it. But if a strike did manage to slip through his defences, he trusted the armour to deflect the blow or lessen its impact enough to prevent a serious wound.
The pair reached him just after he’d readied himself to face them, both wielding falchions. Under the helm, Dameon smirked, looking forward to what was coming. They rushed at him together, not flanking as they should.
His shield pushed forward, blocking their strikes, and then a turn of his arm lifted the base upward. As the falchions were lifted and pushed away, Daemon stepped forward. His sword flashed out, sinking deep into the gut of one pirate. The blade was pulled back, and the pirate staggered back, one hand coming to the mortal wound he now had.
A quick rotation of his elbow and the sword swept to the side, slicing the chest of the other pirate. The blow was not fatal, but it forced the pirate to turn and stumble away; right into the blade of one of Daemon’s men.
His smile widened as he turned to seek his next foes, and Dameon noted that it would have been his sixteenth kill of the battle. While it felt as if time was flying past, he could see that the last of the pirate galleys was only now reaching the docks; the first of its men leaping over to join the fighting on the wooden planks that ran from the beach to the two moored galleys.
A pirate charged at Daemon, swinging a mace with brutal intent, forcing him to consider his approach a fraction more carefully as he turned to face the new challenger.
Daemon braced his shield, letting the mace crash against it with a dull thud, absorbing the blow. His sword flicked out, aiming for the man’s arm, but the pirate was quicker than anticipated, swinging the shaft of his weapon just in time to deflect the blade.
A grin tugged at Daemon's lips—finally, something resembling a challenge. The mace came around again, aimed at his pauldron, but Daemon shifted his stance, raising his shield to block the strike. At the same time, his sword cut upward in a swift arc, slicing into the pirate's arm. Blood seeped from the wound, but the man barely reacted, save for a grunt of irritation.
Daemon moved back, dodging the upward swing of the mace, and prepared to counter the next strike. But out of the corner of his eye, he caught movement—a second pirate lunged at him, his blade clashing against Daemon’s shield. The angle of the shield deflected the blade toward the first pirate.
The stumble of one pirate forced the other to halt his attack, throwing him off balance. Daemon seized the opportunity.
He pushed forward, thrusting both shield and sword. The shield collided with the body of the second pirate, while his sword found its mark, sinking deep into the leg of the mace-wielder.
As he drew back his blade, ready to finish the job, a sword burst through the pirate’s chest from behind. Blood spewed from the fresh wound and the man’s mouth as he crumpled to his knees.
Turning to deal with the other pirate, Daemon saw the one holding the blade had been his squire. While he disliked losing his kill, he was pleased to see Jekar fighting and taking advantage of his smaller stature to strike from behind. A knight should have honour, but it had little place on a battlefield.
Daemon’s sword came around, the edge slicing the pirate he’d just driven back with his shield across the chest. The blade sliced the armour with ease, though it failed to find purchase in flesh.
The pirate stepped back, trying to put distance between them, but Daemon advanced. His blade came back around, circling in the air due to a turn of his wrist. The blade once more slashed the front of the pirate, though this time Dameon felt greater resistance, and as the metal swooped clear, the pirate lifted a hand to his chest; the armour darkening as blood flowed from the wound.
Another turn of his wrist and arm, and the point of the blade sunk into the pirate’s stomach. Daemon stepped forward, ensuring the blade drove inward, and the pirate grunted in pain. As the blade was pulled clear, the shield came around, slamming into the pirate and sending him away.
As the body crashed to the ground, Daemon was turning, seeking new targets. His blood pumped, loudly demanding his blade find more flesh to feast upon. Seeing pirates fighting his men nearby, and with their backs turned to him, he advanced, preparing himself to strike.
As his blade thrust through the back of the nearest pirate, Daemon swung his shield around, angling the edge. It slammed into the head of one pirate, catching him on the side of the face as he turned. The blow drove the man into the one next to him, and the pair fell over.
With that chaos caused, the remaining upright and uninjured pirates reacted, turning to deal with the commotion. That left them exposed to Daemon’s men to finish them off, and with that Daemon turned, seeking another target. He’d barely begun the search before a group of four came toward him.
Stepping forward, he set his feet and angled himself so none might flank him while in their initial assault. The men he had just helped would, once the pirates they faced were confirmed down, join him, and cover his flanks, but Daemon wanted the group dead before then.
His blade flashed out; sweeping and twirling to deflect two attacks in one flowing move. Altering his arm, another strike toward him bounced away as it struck his shield. The fourth pirate though was able to take advantage as Daemon saw the heel of an axe grasp the side of the shield.
Knowing what was coming, Daemon loosened the tenseness of his arm and stepped forward. The axe pulled the shield to one side, the pirate planning to use the move to expose Daemon to attack. Because of his movement, however, the plan failed and a grunt slid from the pirate as Daemon drove his blade into the man’s gut.
As the axe slipped from the side of his shield, Daemon pulled the blade back, turning his arm to widen the internal damage. The shield pushed out, knocking back the man who’d had a blow deflected by it before the axe had caught the edge. In the same move, Damon turned to face the other two of this latest group of pirates to face him.
His sword came around, the edge clashing against the blade of one of the pirates, pushing it aside. The weapon continued onwards, and with a roll of his wrists, the point slashed the pirate’s arm. The wound was not deep, nor enough to cause the pirate to lose their weapon, but the point of the cutlass dropped even as Daemon’s blade continued past them.
It clashed against the steel of the final pirate even as Daemon’s shield, angled high, crashed edge-first into the arm of the first of the pair of pirates. While his sword was unable to push the blade it was clashing against back, the wielder of that blade had to step back, lest they be knocked over by their stumbling companion.
The moment the blades were free of each other, Daemon pulled the blade toward his shield. The steel dropped low, slicing clean through part of the stumbling pirate’s thigh. The man fell to the ground, cutting off his companion from attacking even as Daemon turned back to the third pirate that still stood.
A weapon crashed against his shield, driving Daemon’s arm back, and slowing his turn. Movement at the edge of the shield revealed this pirate had shifted weapons, and now wielded a mace. The weapon pulled back, readying itself for another strike.
Daemon didn’t allow it to do so and thrust his blade low under the base of his shield. The attack missed flesh, but it forced the pirate back ensuring they could not then attack him. As Daemon readied himself to strike again, wary of the pirate to his right that was moving around the fallen companion, the one with the mace grunted.
A second later, he looked down as the point of a blade burst through the side of his stomach. The blade was pulled clear, slashing through flesh and organs in the way. As the man fell, Dameon once more saw that Jekar was responsible for the opportunistic attack.
Smiling at his squire, though the boy would not see it, Daemon pivoted, sweeping his shield out as he turned. That ensured the pirate to his right was unable to take advantage of Daemon’s position. At least not until Daemon was fully facing them.
As the pirate’s cutlass came down, Daemon pushed his arm forward and his blade sunk deep into the pirate’s chest, piercing one lung. Daemon continued to turn, dragging his blade free and widening the wound so badly that on the way free, he felt it scrape against bone.
The pirate slumped forward, dead before his weapon had slipped from his grasp, and Daemon found himself facing his squire. Jekar’s expression was partially hidden by his helm, but it was clear that the boy was adapting to the chaos and bloodshed of battle well.
Sensing movement behind Jekar, Daemon shouted, “Down!” The squire froze for a second, caught unprepared for the command, but he obeyed in time that the blade swinging for his neck did nothing more than clip the very top of his helm.
Jekar fell to one side, his blade hand pressing into the dirt to prevent him from falling even as Daemon advanced. The slight deflection from Jekar’s helm had taken the pirate’s blade high, exposing the man’s side and Daemon made sure to not miss.
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The pirate seemed to freeze in place as Daemon’s sword sunk deep into his side under his arm; the blade facing almost no resistance as more than half the blade disappeared into flesh. The man began to fall, and Daemon was forced to release his grip, lest he be taken down as well.
Even as he reached back for a new weapon from his belt, a pirate rushed at him, blades in each hand. Not wanting to be forced back, Daemon stepped toward the pirate, pushing his shield outward. Metal scraped against metal and as Daemon’s fingers grasped the shaft of the axe at his hip, he felt the shield slam into something far more substantial.
Pulling the shield back, he saw the pirate tumbling back, and as he slid his axe free of its hoop, the pirate tripped over a body and fell to the ground. Not wanting the man to rise again, Daemon stepped forward, and then drove the axe down hard, slamming the bit into the man’s chest.
The edge crashed through the pirate’s armour, and one of the man’s arms came up, grasping Daemon’s wrist. Daemon pushed down, using his leverage to ensure the axe sunk deeper, and he quickly felt it catch against, and then wedge into bone.
Knowing the man was down, and that the axe was trapped, Daemon yanked his arm back; breaking free of the weak grasp the pirate had on him, and left the axe embedded in the pirate’s chest. Turning, his hand moving for the next weapon he had, he saw Jekar standing over another pirate.
This time it appeared the squire had killed them from the front, and Jekar was already turning as the pirate fell, seemingly seeking the next threat. Sensing a lull in the battle, Daemon moved toward Jekar, ready to pull his squire to his side. Yet as he reached him, and with a short sword now in his grasp, Daemon saw that around them, the number of men on the beach and docks had thinned dramatically.
A horn sounded, and Daemon turned toward it, tensing. However, as his eyes took in the sight of the water, he understood that it was coming from Jaeronos’ fleet. As others turned at the sound, those who knew Cregan’s sigil cheered while those who had attacked the port started to panic.
Many threw their blades down and fell to their knees, begging for mercy. Others raced for the galleys, hoping to slip them into the sea and break through the fleet bearing down on them. A handful continued fighting, but with the majority defeated or retreating, they were quickly being overwhelmed. Daemon even saw one pirate turn on his fellows and stab the others in the back before tossing his blade down.
With the battle in its dying embers, Daemon slid the short sword back into his sheath and placed his hand on Jekar’s shoulder. The boy tensed, his blade coming around until he understood who had grasped him. “Are you well?” Daemon asked, seeing that Jekar’s face was red, and his breathing laboured.
“Y-yes, Ser.”
Daemon nodded and gave Jekar’s armour a solid pat. “Good.” Seeing the colour still on Jekar’s face was a relief; it meant the boy was handling this battle better than before. “You fought well today, even saved my life a few times.” That was a stretch—none of the pirates Jekar had killed could have reached him unless Daemon had been sloppy. Still, seeing Jekar’s chest lift and his shoulders square showed that the words had bolstered the boy’s courage, which was exactly what Daemon aimed for. “Later, once we have taken the rolls, secured the prisoners, and dealt with the bodies, we will talk more about today. If there is time, we might even resume your training, so you are better prepared for the next fight.”
Jekar nodded, though Daemon noticed the boy’s eyes widening at the thought of training so soon after battle. Daemon had endured similar gruelling sessions while squiring for Prince Oberyn and knew that if Jekar were with the Prince, training would have started even earlier. Daemon was not as harsh as Prince Oberyn, at least not for now, but he was not about to let Jekar slack off.
“Come on then. Help me tally the cost of this battle and see what spoils we have earned.”
Daemon turned and moved toward the docks, wanting to see what condition the ships there were in, and how soon the pirate ships docked there could be readied to sail with Jaeronos’ fleet. Already prisoners were being led down the docks and along the beach to one central location.
As he reached the base of the docks, one of the two pirate galleys that had pulled alongside instead of beaching had cast off its moorings. Men ran over the docks, trying to prevent the escape, however Daemon was not concerned. The ship was under-crewed and to escape would have to sail directly at the Cowl and its escorts. The odds were high that the men there would surrender after only a few bolts were fired at them.
The other attacking galley at the docks already had some of his men onboard, though they were caught between securing the remaining crew there or dealing with the galley that was trying to escape. Elsewhere, the four galleys that beached in the attack were being emptied. While Daemon doubted they carried much loot, any extra weapons would be useful for the battles to come.
Glancing at the growing group of prisoners, Daemon estimated around a hundred had already gathered, with at least the same again on their way or still fighting. That suggested a high number of deaths among the pirates, and Daemon hoped it was not repeated among his men. Most here had come with them to Redwater, and as such were more trustworthy than those who had bent the knee recently.
The prisoners would get their chance to join their ranks, but Daemon knew that could wait. First, the galley had to be secured and Jaeronos sent on his way. Once Ymir was back with Bronn, Daemon would speak with the prisoners. He might not have anything like the connection to the direwolf that Cregan held, but the simple presence of the beast was effective in ensuring men understood their choices.
As the galley that had slipped away slowed, the men there throwing up their hands after a volley of bolts from the Cowl had struck them, Daemon’s gaze turned northward. He could not see where Cregan was, but he wondered what his friend would do. Would the Wolf of Dorne take the easy path and secure Rakakz’s southern port, or would he, as Daemon half-expected, turn his gaze further northward?
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(Cregan’s POV)
Looking down through Rian’s eyes, I scanned the island that lay between the two closest of Rakakz’s ports. After watching the battle far to the south through the eyes of a gull, I’d spent most of the last few days surveying the island controlled by Rakakz and Allerion Redbeard with my focus on the ports of the former.
After some consideration, I’d decided to attack the northern port. While it was the more dangerous option, as I held a far smaller advantage in men, and the two galleys there could be launched by fresh men against the tired crews of the Kraken and Revenge, the reward for taking it was far greater.
Jaeronos had his fleet, which was four vessels including the Howl closing in on the southern port that Rakakz held on the eastern coast of Redwater, and with there being but twenty men there, he’d leave two galleys at most to secure it. The Howl and the remaining galley would then head north to reinforce me, doubling the men I’d have at the northern port. Well, as the battle for this port was going to be a hard slog, those reinforcements would be more than double the number of men I’d have after it was over. Even after forcing those there to bend their knee, if I came out close to being able to crew both my ships fully I’d be happy.
Daemon had done well in the battle defending the port and leading Rakakz’s fleet into the trap. All six of the attacking galleys had been taken without damage, and one had left to escort the Pride back to Northpoint. From what he'd told me – via Ymir – they’d lost about eighty men during the battle. Over two hundred had surrendered to him, with all but a handful bending the knee.
The issue now was that the forces Dameon and Bronn had under their command were about eighty or ninety per cent composed of men formerly loyal to Vaegon and Rakakz. I knew this was going to be an issue as the campaign on the island continued, but I had not expected to run into the issue until I was engaged against Allerion.
What made it even worse was that a good percentage of the men who’d died defending the port would have been sellswords. By and large, each of them was worth four or five pirates in combat, and their loyalty, which was secured with coin instead of fear for most of the former pirates, was more secure. Once Redwater was wiped clean, and I returned to Northpoint, I’d have to see about having someone return to Sunspear to hire more men.
I wanted to do that personally, to see how Asha and the child that grew in her belly were doing, but I suspected I’d not have the time. Deciding on what to do with a pirate-free Redwater, and how to target The Whores and Grey Gallows, would take precedence. At least to the degree that I doubted I would be able to spare, at best, the moon-and-a-half it would take to sail to Sunspear and back.
Movement down below caught Rian’s attention, and I was pleased to see it wasn’t another rabbit that he was considering hunting, but men moving along the path that ran between Rakakz’s two ports. While the path was straight, the initial scouting I’d done while Rian had been further south had failed to reveal that the path wasn’t as flat as I had believed.
While not twisting around a hill as the path between Vaegon’s ports had, the path rose high enough that, having looked at it from east and west, it was clear that the men in one port couldn’t see the other. To counter this, and showing he was smarter than Vaegon, Rakakz had set up a small watchtower at the peak of the path, about halfway between the two ports.
The tower was only ever manned by two men, and from what I’d seen over the last few days, where they came from alternated. Those heading there in the morning and at sunset came from the bay port while those taking the position at midday and midnight came from the port on the eastern shore. As the watchtower needed to be taken out, then the time to do it was at some point in the morning after the handover had taken place from the bay port. The issue was that, between the eastern ports, there was no easy point on the shore where men could land to target the watchtower. At least not without being in sight of one of the ports. While I could wait for Jaeronos to take the southern port and then land men near that, the hike to reach the watchtower would take several days and mean passing over or around a collection of small mountains that rose in the centre of the island.
As my ships had sailed north, far enough out that they would not draw attention from men in the ports, I’d pondered this issue and devised a plan. It was risky, but if it worked, not only would it take out the watchtower, but if anyone discovered the attack, they would not understand why it had happened.
Aboard the Kraken, I had four mind-broken gulls still available to me. Those birds were expendable, especially as I’d seen hundreds of gulls and other birds on and around the island since arriving. Because of that, I was considering using the foursome to attack the watchtower. While not the fastest of birds, the gulls were large and their beaks solid. If one struck the chest of a man, provided the beak struck true, the man would die from the beak piercing his internal organs. Hells, even if the beak didn’t do that, the sheer velocity of the bird as it struck might well crush a man’s chest; at least enough that another attack could finish them off.
One problem with the plan was that I didn’t have time to slip from the mind of a bird attacking the port, back to one on the Kraken, and then fly it toward the watchtower to attack. I needed both men down at the same time, which would mean using all four birds at the same time. In theory, that was possible to do, and I’d practised taking over the minds of the four gulls while they were in their cages. The problem was that it was far more stressful to maintain control over all four at once, and if I spent more than five minutes inside their minds when I slipped back to my body I was assaulted by an insanely powerful migraine.
Another issue, if I could overcome the strain and after-action migraine, was that to ensure the birds struck true, I would have to stay in their minds until they struck the pirates. While the targets might survive the impact, I knew the birds wouldn't, which meant that if I was a fraction of a second too slow in slipping from their minds, I’d experience them dying.
Now, I’d already had that experience in my memories, but there was no emotion attached to it, no rush of terror in that final second before death. From what little rules there seemed to be about skinchanging, that wasn’t against them, but it was hinted that experiencing death through the eyes of an animal was a dangerous action; one even those who worshipped the Old Gods did not approve of.
Even if I did everything right, and only two gulls were needed to kill the men at the tower, and I slipped from the minds of the birds in time, there was still a major issue that remained. The port we would be attacking was placed in such a location that, while not heavily sheltered from storms that might move northwards from the Summer Isles, it had clear sight of a massive stretch of open ocean. Even now, if they chose to do so, they’d see my two vessels sailing north, though given we were far to the east, almost halfway to Lotus Shores, they wouldn’t consider us a threat. However, that would change the moment we turned toward them.
To help delay how long it would take them to spot us, once the sun set, we’d be turning westward. The night, even with a waning moon, should cover our approach for a time. At least so long as we limited the light we emitted as we sailed. When the sun rose tomorrow, if all went well not only would we be much closer to the port, but the sun would be directly astern.
That was the rough tactic Rakakz’s fleet had used to approach my port and there was something poetic about using it against him, and this time ensuring we were directly shielded from coastal sight by the sun. Now, the sun wouldn’t keep us hidden for long, but if, by the time the men in the port saw us bearing down on them the watchtower was taken, then there was no risk of men from the bay port coming to support the eastern port.
Ideally, we would get close enough that, by the time they spotted us, it would be too risky to get their moored galleys underway. Even if they did, they would not be able to send full crews out as that would leave the port all but deserted. Also, with the extra scorpions that my vessels carried, along with my weirwood bow, my fleet had superior firepower to, if not overwhelm, then at least drive the galleys back to the port. The problem was if a galley slipped its moorings and then turned to run.
Logically, they should head south, and run into Jaeronos’ fleet. The Volantene was aware that this was possible, so he should move to attack that galley, but just as if a galley headed north, there was a risk there would be a galley of Rakakz’s men floating somewhere in the sea between Redwater and Lotus Shores. That would mean I’d have to make sure it was taken care of before moving against Rakakz’s final port in Redwater Bay.
The only possible way that a galley escaping might not be an issue was if they sailed to the east and were attacked and captured by the Lotus Prince or Salladhor Saan. Those two, in theory, were unlikely to be kind to pirates that enslaved others, especially the Lotus Prince who was known to string slavers up whenever his men captured them. The only time he didn’t was when they were crew aboard a trading vessel that paid the toll to pass Lotus Shores.
Through the eyes of Rian and gulls, I’d seen ships around that small island bearing green sails, which I took to be how the Lotus Prince marked his vessels. However, until I had to deal directly with him, or spoke to captured pirates who sailed this section of the Stepstones, I’d not know that for certain.
As the sun slowly slipped over the western horizon, I instructed Rian to head back to the Kraken. Like me and my men, he needed to rest for tomorrow. With that done, I slipped from his mind and returned to my body. Turning slowly on my bed, I looked around the cabin. Some food was placed on the small table nearby, but otherwise, the place was as it had been when I’d slipped into Rian’s mind not long after lunch.
Outside my door, Edric and Trystane would be waiting, the pair acting as guards while I was scouting the island. Both had seen battle when taking Vaegon’s ports, but I’d not been in the thick of battle in either engagement, thus neither had they. Tomorrow, when we assault the port, they would get their first true taste of battle, and the chaos and carnage that came with it.
After I’d broken my fast, I’d summon them in and speak with them about what to expect and do. The pair would stay close to me, but as I’d be wearing most of my armour, and with my surcoat proudly bearing my sigil – the same one that flew on the sails of my vessels – the pirates in the port would be drawn to me like moths to a flame. Edric and Trystane would thus be close to the centre of battle, but with their training, and the fact I’d be in plate and have Red Rain at my side, I knew they’d be fine.
After that I’d speak with my men, making sure the commanders knew the layout of the port, and how to deploy their men once we reached the shore and a good night’s rest would be taken by as many men as possible. While some would man the sails and oars, those who would lead the charge tomorrow would be ordered to bed.
Tomorrow we’d be in battle once again, and while there were parts of my plan that I had concerns about, barring anything disastrous, the day would be ours.
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