Published: November 13th 2024, 9:50:02 pm
The waves hammered against the hulls of the Northern ships as they sliced through the churning waters, moving ever closer to the mist-shrouded Longsister. The salty spray whipped against Jon Stark‘s face, and he tasted the brine on his lips as he stood at the prow of Nimbus, his eyes narrow and resolute. Above him, the banner of Avalon flapped in the storm-lashed wind—a direwolf on a field of gold.
The opportunity he had given for the Sistermen to sue for peace had passed. He gave House Sunderland four days, and in those four days, the Sisterman had only shored up their defences instead of reaching out to Winterfell. Despite it becoming clear that the Sistermen had no intention of suing for peace, Jon held back on attacking the islands for four days in the pursuit of peace. But on the fifth day, Jon was ready to wage war again.
This time, he chose to attack in broad daylight. He wanted the Sisterman to know there was no way they could win this conflict. Therefore, he wanted a decisive defeat of the Sistermen in the seas.
It was for this reason he had gathered the fleet under the command of Captain Vince to his side.
Jon had no experience in naval warfare. He had never even captained a ship in any significant manner. On the other hand, Captain Vince had experience in these things and proved his mettle by beating back Victarion Greyjoy during the invasion of the Iron Islands.
Jon’s lieutenant, a grizzled sailor named Roderick Moss, joined him at the prow. He had scars on his cheeks and a missing ear, taken in a skirmish years before against Ironborn raiders. He nodded curtly, his face set like chiselled granite.
“Lord Jon. Captain Vince has arrived.” Roderick informed him.
“Bring him here.”
Jon stared ahead at the assembled ships below Nimbus. They were all arrayed against House Longthrope and poised to subjugate Longsister and use the largest island as a permanent base to launch a full-scale invasion into the rest of the islands. When Jon heard footsteps closing in, he turned around to find himself in Captain Vince's company.
“I assume you know what is being asked of you.” Jon started, “The Sistermen have yet to reach out to Winterfell. Therefore, you have the permission to go on full assault against Longsister.”
“I see. What are the objectives of this battle, Lord Jon?” Captain Vince asked politely.
“The complete destruction of pirate ships and the fleet of House Longthrope. We have identified the gathering spots for pirate ships on the island so your men can target these spots. My brother wishes to have total control over the Longthrope’s waters, and then we begin the full-scale invasion.” said Jon.
“Am I permitted to use the ballistic weapons, my lord?” Captain Vince asked curiously.
“You are.” he nodded.
“I shall do what you ask and more, my lord.” Captain Vince said with confidence.
“Good. Keep in mind you have a week’s time. Use it judiciously.”
Jon dismissed the man from the prow of Nimbus. He watched from the bow of his ship as Adela took Captain Vince back to his ship using a flying carpet.
Once Adela returned to the Nimbus, he ordered their ship to return to the sky. Jon ordered the Nimbus to stay back and observe while leaving Captain Vince to command the fleet as he liked.
“Fog’s thicker than I like,” Roderick said, squinting ahead. “They’ll be hiding in it, waiting to spring a trap.”
“Then we spring one of our own,” Jon replied, his gaze unflinching.
His orders were clear. The Longsister was to be made an example and House Longthrope needed to be erased from the annals of history. They’d serve as a warning to those troublesome Sistermen harbouring delusions of grandeur. His brother wanted the Sistermen to feel the disparity in strength between their people was as vast as the sea. Besides, he had the impression that his brother was reshuffling his plans for the Three Sisters. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have received orders to level Longsister and use it as a forward base against the other islands.
‘Maybe Harry even wants to annex the islands into the North instead of merely forcing them to surrender and gain control of the sea lanes.’ Jon mused.
“We’ll split our fleet. Convey a message to White Harbour. We’ve exposed the soft underbelly of Longsister with our attack on House Sunderland and their harbour. We shall deliver the final blow to the island by focusing the fleet on House Lonthrope and their harbour, Longtown. The Manderly fleet should assault Sweetsister and place House Borrell on the backfoot.” Jon ordered.
“What about Littlesister, my lord.” Lieutenant Roderick asked curiously, considering their operations in Littlesister were suspended, and no new orders were given.
Instead, the entire fleet was now poised to strike hard at Longsister.
“Littlesister – they are the bait.” Jon answered with a grin.
“Ah!” Lieutenant Roderick nodded in understanding.
“Send the message to White Harbour immediately. I don’t want any delays in the plan, so I will give more time for House Borrell to gather their strength at Sisterton.”
“As you wish, my lord.” Lieutenant Roderick nodded before leaving for the captain’s cabin to send the message to White Harbour.
Jon turned his attention back to the sea. He saw the Stark fleet break the closely bound formation and sail towards Longsister at full speed. Captain Vince’s flagship, the Grey Wolf, led the charge with its massive propeller-powered thrust, keeping the ship ahead of their finest corvette class ships. He didn’t fancy being a Sistermen based out of Longton harbour, with Captain Vince leading the charge towards the harbour.
He supposed it would be interesting to observe a naval battle from afar and give the fleet captains some glory.
******
Captain Vince appreciated his new war galley, the Grey Wolf. It was unlike the last ship he commanded during the war against the Ironborn. His previous ship also hosted exploding scorpion bolts and siege engines that could launch wildfire pots at enemy ships or even into beachheads. The Mirage was a powerful ship but was too small and not as fast as his current flagship.
However, the Grey Wolf was a massive war galley twice as fast as his old ship. Several factors made the Grey Wolf superior in speed. It was sleek in design and one of the first ships in the line with a copper-plated hull and a propeller powering its movement. The ram built into his ship was made of enchanted steel, strong enough to split any ship in the Sistermen’s arsenal in two. Then there was the Godseye, providing him with an accurate map and real-time positions of ships across the seas.
The only ships far more advanced than the Grey Wolf were the airships used by the Stark brothers. He hoped that one day, he’d get to captain an airship. After all, which sailor worth his salt wouldn’t dream of sailing all the known seas and skies?
This battle was the stepping stone to that dream. He could feel it in his bones. The glory of subjugating an entire island was something that’d put his name in the annals of history. It would be a high achievement for the son of a poor shipwright working in White Harbour. He knew his father was already proud, and he was immensely thankful to Lord Harrion for giving him this opportunity to captain his own ship.
As his ships broke formation and sailed towards the mist-covered island. The silence was thick, broken only by the creak of the ships’ hulls and the distant cry of gulls. Vince’s knuckles were white as he gripped the pommel of his sword at his side. He knew the feeling of steel against bone but had yet to experience battle at sea. The ocean itself was an enemy, vast and merciless. It could turn a friend into a foe with a single wave.
They slipped around the edge of a craggy cliff, and there, hidden behind a veil of sea fog, was a shadow—a dark, hulking mass.
“Hold course!” Captain Vince called, his voice ringing over the waves crashing into the Grey Wolf. “Arm the scorpions.”
His ship pressed forward despite the tremulous sea, cutting through the mist and waves. In the distance, when the mist cleared up a little, he saw three pirate galleys—large, swift, with black sails blazoned with a red skull. He swiftly took his telescope and observed the pirate ships. Each galley was armed with rows of ballistae and crossbows, and at the sight of the Northern fleet, the pirates raised a wicked cheer that rolled across the water like the promise of death.
He saw the cause for their cheer when he saw other pirate ships coming from east and south.
But he was hardly surprised. The Godseye kept him informed of the enemy ships’ position, and therefore, he was ready to show these pirates the true might of the Avalonian fleet.
He took command of the rudder and spun it hard right, turning the Grey Wolf sharply so that its portside now faced the three pirate ships ahead.
“Blow those pirate scum to the bottom of the sea!” he shouted out of his cabin.
The men manning the scorpions released bolts one after the other straight towards the pirate ships. He observed the pirate ships with his telescope and watched the bolts plunge into the wooden hulls, masts and even the cabins on the deck. For a moment, nothing happened other than the pirates running around in panic on their ships, but that shifted into painful screams as the scorpions blasted the ships apart and consumed them in a fire.
But he noticed the fire only started in two ships, leaving the third intact. However, it was still a better result than he expected. Getting scorpion bolts to find their mark while the ships were moving was difficult, especially from a long range.
The two ships hit by the rune-enforced bolts burned through the pirate ships, forcing them to jump ship. As the two pirate ships burned and broke apart at the seams as the fire spread rapidly, Vince turned his attention to the rest of the ships.
He signalled other ships to pursue the pirate ships to the east while he took a small company to pursue those he could see in the south.
“Hold formation!” Captain Vince shouted.
A horn blast followed his command, and the ships behind him adjusted their sails, bringing the fleet into a tight wall.
Arrows rained down from the pirate ships, arching through the mist and slicing through the air. They struck the decks of the Northern ships, embedding in the wood with vicious force. Men cried out, and Captain Vince saw two of his archers collapse, arrows in their necks. The enemy’s skill was evident—their shots precise, deadly.
‘The wind is to their advantage.’ Vince noted.
But he didn’t falter. Speed was his advantage, and he used it expertly to close the distance to the enemy, thereby placing the pirates inside the range of his archers.
“Let these pirates taste our arrows!” Vince commanded.
Northern archers raised their bows and let fly a wave of arrows, dark as a murder of crows. The first volley struck the pirates' galley, and Jon saw men drop, clutching at their thighs and shoulders, their hands red with blood.
He directed the Grey Wolf straight towards the pirate ship, which he noticed was commanding the other ships. His men continued to rain arrows on the pirates, but the speed of his ships allowed him to position them in a way that the pirates couldn’t effectively manoeuvre. He just happened to have caught his target at an opportune moment because the pirate ship’s portside was exposed to him.
“Brace for impact!” he shouted.
The men around him dropped low, gripping anything they could as they struck the pirate ship. The sound of wood cracking and splintering thundered across the water. The Grey Wolf rocked violently but held strong as the metal ram pierced through the pirate ship's hull.
“Guard the railings! Do not allow a single pirate scum to board our ships.” Vince ordered while he sent a trusted man to inspect the damage inflicted on their enemy ship.
The pirates leapt from their ship onto the Grey Wolf’s deck, a swarm of them clad in leather and iron, their faces painted with streaks of red and black. Their lips were pulled back in a sneer, and they screamed as they swung their weapons. Some of the pirates were thrown overboard by his men, but a few managed to board his ship.
His men battled the pirates fiercely, and he reset the propeller to pull back once he received the message of critical damage on the pirate ship’s hull. He could feel the ship slowly pull back from the pirate ship, which made him hand over the rudder to his lieutenant. Vince took up his crossbow and sneaked himself out of the safety of his cabin. He was no great swordsman but never missed a mark in his life. He primed the string and took a shot at a pirate. The bolt punched cleanly through the throat of a pirate, downing the man with a puddle of blood pooling on the deck of his ship. He nocked another blot on his crossbow and fell another pirate with a blot straight through an eye.
All around him, the Northern warriors clashed with the pirates. The men fought like they were possessed, roaring as they swung their axes and swords, taking down the pirates with each sweep. Torrhen Flint, tall and broad, wielded a spear, thrusting it into any pirate who came too close.
The battle was a chaotic, brutal blur of screams and steel. The smell of salt and blood filled the air as more pirates swarmed the deck. Vince’s arms ached as he repeatedly clipped the pirates with bolts. The Grey Wolf fully disengaged and left the pirates outnumbered on the deck. It was easy to round up the few that managed to hold their own and dispatch them now that they were not under the threat of further boarding by the pirates.
As for the pirate ship, Vince watched with a grin as the ship started sinking, seawater rushing through the hole the Grey Wolf punched through its hull. With one pirate ship down, Captain Vince focused on the other ships engaged in the battle. He once again took command of the rudder and guided his ship to suitable positions to crush the enemy ships and aid struggling ships in the fleet.
The battle raged on for hours until it became clear to the pirates the day was lost. Thirteen ships were destroyed with their masts broken or sinking beneath the waves. The rest of the pirate ships cut their losses and escaped from the battle.
The battle had been won, but the toll was heavy. Men lay wounded, some dead, scattered across the decks of his ships. As Vince looked out from the bow of the Grey Wolf, he could see men floating in the sea, some dead and some alive, close to the wreckage of ships.
He needed to gather the fleet and have a word with all the captains to take stock of the damage. But for now, they had won the day. With the enemy ships scattered in all directions, the path to Longtown harbour was now wide open.
******
Daenerys squirmed in her seat beside her brother/husband as more guests filtered into the venue. Even though days passed after their marriage, guests still came from across the continent to extend their blessings. Thankfully, they received their guests inside a great hall in the manse provided by Magister Illyrio.
Despite her brother’s penchant to entertain all their guests with open arms, she sat alert. The presence of sellswords, Unsullied and sellsails made the whole event tense, just like her wedding. She couldn’t explain it, but her nightmares were becoming increasingly difficult to handle. Sometimes, she saw dragons and wolves fighting each other. Other times, she saw the sea devouring dragons. Then, there was a pillar of fire burning all lands, leaving nothing but ash, and from that ash, she saw dragons emerging.
When she shared her dreams with Viserys, he only laughed it off as something unimportant.
“Princess, do you need something? Maybe some water.” Ser Jorah looked at her with a concerned look.
Daenerys smiled at the gentle knight. While she was initially wary of the Northerner knight, she had come to trust the man somewhat in the last few days. Ser Jorah shadowed her on the orders of her brother. She suspected Viserys had plans to anoint Ser Jorah as a Kingsguard knight.
“I’m fine, Ser Jorah.”
“Shall I ask Prince Viserys to excuse you from the guests?” Ser Jorah asked.
“No one is leaving now. It’d be an insult to my guests if my wife is not here to greet them.” Viserys said sharply.
Daenerys was so startled by the sudden appearance of her brother that she was stunned into silence.
“A…as you wish, brother.” Daenerys hastily said.
Suddenly, there was a commotion in the hall, which gained her attention and Viserys’.
A tall man with an eyepatch walked into the hall, accompanied by a woman in long red robes. A couple of men were following the duo, and all their cold expressions made Daenerys feel uncomfortable. She could even see the guests in the hall were wary of these new arrivals.
“Your grace. I extend you heartfelt greetings from House Greyjoy. My name is Euron Greyjoy.” the man with the eyepatch said while falling to a knee before them.
“The Crow’s Eye.” Ser Jorah breathed with his hand on the pommel of his sword.
“Greyjoy. You’re from the Iron Islands, are you not?” Viserys asked with a frown.
“Aye, your grace. But it has been years since I set foot on the Iron Islands.”
“Why not?” Viserys asked curiously.
“Like you, I was forced into exile, your grace.” said Euron. “And like you, I wish to one day return to the islands and reclaim them from the hold of the Starks.”
“Victarion Greyjoy rules the Iron Islands.” Ser Jorah said coldly.
“True, but only in name. There is nothing much to rule when the Stark fleet controls the waves. The one who controls the waves rules the Iron Islands. Right now, Harrion Stark rules the waves, and therefore the Black Wolf rules the Ironborn.”
“Why are you here?” Viserys asked before Ser Jorah could retort.
“Your Grace,” Euron said, his voice a purr. “I bring a gift worthy of a king.”
One of his men handed Euron a wooden case, and he drew the sword from within. The hall fell silent as he held it before Viserys. The blade was golden like the bright rays of the sun, with ripples of crimson fire dancing along its edge.
“Valyrian steel,” Euron said, his voice reverent, his tone almost mocking. “Forged in the fires of a lost empire. A blade for a king who would reclaim his birthright. I offer it to you, Viserys Targaryen, rightful King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, as a gift for your wedding—and as a promise.”
“How did you…?” Viserys said in awe as his eyes gleamed with greed after laying eyes on the exquisite-looking sword.
“This is Brightroar, the lost ancestral sword of House Lannister. I retrieved it when my ships braved the waters of Valyria.”
“House Lannister’s ancestral sword?” Viserys asked giddily.
“Aye, your grace. With this sword, I pray you reclaim your birthright – the Iron Throne.” Euron said with a strange glint in his eye.
Daenerys looked at her brother and then at the lone onyx eye of Euron Greyjoy. She felt uneasy at the unnatural glint in Euron Greyjoy’s eye, but her brother was far too mesmerised with the sword to see the madness lurking behind Euron’s eye. The same could be said of the Red Priestess standing behind Euron. She had a bad feeling upon seeing the look on the priestess’s face.