Published: November 20th 2024, 6:29:09 pm
The first light of dawn stretched pale fingers across the horizon, shining over the churning sea as Jon Stark stood on the deck of Nimbus. Below, the Longtown Harbour sprawled—a decrepit collection of rickety docks and weather-beaten huts, a hub of pirate activity on the island. The cold winds of the Bite tangled in his hair, whipping his cloak around him like a banner. Beside him, Ghost paced restlessly, the direwolf’s growl low and menacing, matching the roar of the waves below.
He stared at his direwolf companion and marvelled at the fast pace of growth. When he had taken Ghost as a pet, he didn’t expect to get the same connection Harrion enjoyed with Fenris. But then again, his warging powers peaked after gaining a bond with Ghost. The little direwolf pup had somehow enhanced his warging powers to an unnatural level that he could warg as easily as breathing. It only happened with Ghost, so he was starting to believe all those stories about Starks having wolfblood running in their veins. He reached out with his hand and scratched the snow-white fur of his pet direwolf, earning a soft purr of satisfaction.
Behind him stood the crew of Nimbus, ready to do their duty in this war against the pirates and the Sistermen. Turning around, Jon addressed the crew.
“In the last two days, we have beaten back the pirates from the open seas into the harbour. Longtown now hosts the surviving pirate ships and the ships of House Longthrope. Lord Rolland Longthrope thought he could hide on his island, which was guarded by pirate ships. We’re about to prove him wrong.” Jon said, looking at the eagerness in the eyes of his crew.
The Northerners were not seafaring people, but in the last decade, the North had clawed its way back into the position of a strong naval power. The fall of the Ironborn was the first sign of the North’s growing strength in the seas. Harrion had shown the Seven Kingdoms the North would have its say in the Sunset Sea.
Now, Jon was given the opportunity to do the same in the Bite to establish themselves as a major naval power in the Narrow Sea.
“Captain Vince will lead the attack on the harbour with the bulk of the fleet. On the other hand, we will be striking directly at House Longthrope’s castle. We take the castle and take Lord Rolland prisoner. The island will be turned into our base for further invasion into the other two islands. Prepare the scorpions.”
Jon watched the crew scramble to man their stations. At the bottom of the hull, a small contingent of men armed to the teeth charged with breaching the castle and taking the Longthropes hostage were being assembled. He meant to join them when the time came, but for now, he waited for Captain Vince to lead the fleet into the harbour.
Nearly an hour passed before Jon was informed of the sighting of the Northern fleet sailing into the harbour. That hour was all he needed to ensure his men were prepared to enact the will of the North.
The attack began with Captain Vince using siege engines to bombard the harbour. The fleet had miniature siege engines installed on its starboard side, which pounded Longtown with boulders and sometimes caches of whale oil. As per his orders, the use of wildfire against the harbour was prohibited since they needed Lontown intact. After all, the natural harbour was supposed to host their fleet after House Longthrope was defeated.
As the siege commenced, Jon observed the battle from the comfort of his cabin in the Nimbus. It was a heavily one-sided battle. The Sistermen stood no chance against the might of the Avalonian fleet. Captain Vince was a cautious man and preferred to deal heavy damage to the enemy from long range before engaging them in closer quarters.
“My lord. There is movement near the castle.” Lieutenant Roderick informed him promptly while observing the Longthrope castle using a telescope.
Jon took his own telescope to observe the castle. He could see the doors open, with riders pouring out of them. The castle was one of the most unprotected strongholds he had seen so far. It had no curtain wall to speak of, and most of it was built of loose stones and wood.
‘I won’t be needing the exploding scorpions to breach the castle.’ Jon mused.
He watched as more men poured out of the castle and rode hard for the harbour. It was only natural for Lord Rolland to send men to aid in the harbour's defence, and Jon had no qualms about using the opportunity to capture the castle.
“Send the orders to Adela. We’re moving to take the castle.” Jon ordered.
“Aye, my lord.” Lieutenant Roderick immediately left to pass on his wishes to Adela, who was now guiding the Nimbus.
The Nimbus crossed into the land from their previous position over the sea. By the time they neared the castle, Jon was standing with a mix of assembled infantry and crossbowmen. A small contingent of cavalry was also prepared, but they’d be guarding the Nimbus once they landed. For the assault on the castle, Jon saw no need to use his cavalry, considering there was no ground to cover. The Nimbus would be landing on the doorstep of the castle.
As the Nimbus lowered, a hatch on the bottom side of the hull opened, resting its gigantic door on the ground.
“We take the castle today. For the North!” Jon raised his valyrian steel sword Frost high in the air.
The surface of the blade glinted ominously, almost as if eager to drink the blood of his enemies.
The host had been assembled with care. Infantry formed the bulk of the force—hard men from the North, their shields battered but sturdy, their axes and swords keen. Flanking them were the crossbowmen, armed with steel-tipped bolts that could pierce armour.
The infantry advanced in tight formation, shields raised against the hail of arrows from the castle’s defenders. The crossbowmen who followed after them under his command were quick to get their job done by methodically picking off the enemy archers. This allowed the infantry to quickly gain ground, and they brought forth the ram to smash the door open.
The ram was massive, its iron head shaped like a wolf’s snarling maw. Ten men pushed it forward, their faces grim with determination.
There was some token resistance from the men defending the castle, but Jon led from the front in cutting down the enemy to clear a path for the ram. The sharp edge of Frost cut through cheap boiled leather as if it didn’t even exist. He parried a blow from an axe, then drove Frost into the man’s chest. Blood sprayed, hot and sticky against the cold air. When he pulled Frost free, it was drenched in thick red blood.
Jon moved on to the next enemy, a man armed with a spear. He smacked the spear away with his padded forearm before slashing through the man’s neck. Blood sprayed from the man’s neck, showering his face with fine red drops, but Jon continued to hack, stab and slash through the enemy. He no longer felt any inhibitions in killing since Harrion made him hunt down a boar, forcing him to flay and cut up the creature.
The ram finally broke open the castle's front door, and the Northmen swarmed into the castle. The fighting started anew with a renewed vigour. House Longthrope’s courtyard was a churning sea of chaos. Men fought in tight quarters, the clash of steel mingling with the screams of the dying.
The infantrymen led the charge, while the crossbowmen hung back to fell the enemy archers perched on the stairs or balconies. The castle could not offer much of a fight as Jon led his men in a whirlwind of death and carnage. They pushed deeper into the castle, clearing room by room. They spared those who surrendered, but anyone carrying a weapon was promptly put down.
The fighting dwindled, leaving the castle’s floor drenched with the blood of the Sistermen. The lucky few who had the presence of mind to surrender survived the purge. With the castle’s fall, Lord Rolland’s family also became hostages, and that became an important factor when Lord Rolland returned from the harbour, fleeing the relentless attack from sturdy Northmen.
When Jon was informed of Lord Rolland’s arrival, he came out of the castle to find the man on his knees with his sons doing the same. The reason why this was so became abundantly clear as Sundancer had clawed out of the Nimbus from his enchanted chamber to bask in the natural world.
Blood, sweat and grime hugged Lord Rolland and his sons like a second skin. But no amount of second skin could hide the fear shining in the Sistermen’s eyes.
“Lord Longthrope. All of this could’ve been avoided had you not taken part in the schemes of madmen. Only madmen would dare to challenge the might of House Stark and expect to survive for long.” Jon said coldly while Sundancer growled threateningly, mirroring his mood.
Jon saw Lord Rolland shiver in fright at the sight of his dragon.
“I hope you know what to do next.” Jon looked pointedly at the man.
“House Longthrope surrenders, my lord.”
******
“So, Lord Longthrope surrendered?” Harry asked, looking into the enchanted mirror to see his brother eagerly nodding.
“He didn’t have much of a choice. His castle and harbour fell with his family taken hostage.” said Jon with a shrug.
“Did you take charge of the ravens and look for any dispatches from other Vale lords?”
“I did. There has been some contact with other Sistermen, but other than that…” Jon trailed off with a shrug of his shoulders.
“Hmm.” Harry adopted a pondering look, “You have left Littlesister open as bait, have you not?”
“Yes, brother.” Jon nodded.
“Good. I shall keep you informed if the Gulltown fleet sets sail. The chances are low, but if they do, they’ll be forced to land on Littlesister or use the Fingers as their base.”
“I’ll need more men to keep a hold on the island. Though the Longthropes have surrendered, the smallfolk here are unruly folk. I also suspect some pirates have blended in with the Sistermen to cause trouble for us.” said Jon.
“The Manderlys will be ferrying some men from White Harbour to the island. Meanwhile, prepare the fleet to invade Sweetsister.”
“As you wish, brother.” Jon nodded before the mirror became blank.
Harry turned away from the mirror and looked at his chief spy in the room.
“Anything you can add in regards to our efforts in the Three Sisters?” Harry asked with a raised brow.
“I suspect the pirates won’t be an issue for long. They’re moving to Pentos and taking up service under Viserys Targaryen.” said Daro.
Harry couldn’t help but be surprised to hear that. He had met the Targaryen prince once in Myr and what he saw was a petulant child with an inflated sense of self-importance and no power to back it up. In fact, he had left the Targaryen princeling alone out of pity and some sympathy. He couldn’t help but be surprised to learn that Viserys Targaryen, of all people, had grown strong enough to gather a pirate fleet.
“What is Viserys planning?” Harry asked curiously.
“According to my informants, Viserys Targaryen has brought a thousand Unsullied and signed a contract with the Brave Companions.”
“The Brave Companions?” Harry asked.
“Yes, my lord. They’re a sellsword company with a dark reputation. They’re led by a man called Vargo Hoat.”
Harry leaned back in his seat, considering the information he had received.
He had mainly sent spies in Essos to gather information on his enemies in certain Free Cities. With the fall of Myr, the number of his enemies had considerably reduced on Essos. But he still kept his spies active to track rival businesses and any hostile movements within certain influential circles.
But now it looked like Essos was becoming interesting with all sorts of interesting activities because of Viserys Targaryen.
“Who is helping him?” Harry asked curiously.
“A Pentoshi magister – Illyrion Mopatis.”
“Well, I think this man is deserving of a letter of appreciation for spending his wealth on facilitating a giant distraction in the southern kingdoms.” Harry said with a snort.
Though he was inclined to dismiss this entire episode as a lucky fluke, he couldn’t help but think this was part of some grander design. Someone with the temperament of Viserys Targaryen scoring a wealthy ally in Pentos of all places was somewhat suspect. It became all the more ridiculous that the Targaryen princeling grew influential in one year to purchase a thousand Unsullied and a contract with a sellsword company.
‘There is someone in the shadows making a play at the Iron Throne. Could it be Prince Doran?’ Harry wondered.
He could understand if Prince Doran was secretly propping up Viserys as a figurehead and launching an attack on the Baratheons.
“If Viserys is gathering sellsails to his side, then his target is likely Dragonstone.” Harry mused aloud. “Has there been any inclinations to this effect?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know, my lord.” Daro looked apologetic, “I shall endeavour to send more agents to Pentos and gather more information about the Targaryens.”
“Be careful, though. Pentos is a friendly city, and what the Targaryens do is of no concern to me. They can go after that rusty old chair so long as it doesn’t affect the North’s interests…” Harry trailed off with a thoughtful frown.
Harry was suddenly reminded that any move that Viserys Targaryen made would disturb the naval power in the Narrow Sea. If there was a substantial naval conflict in the Narrow Sea, he doubted the Vale would send their fleet to help out the Sistermen. This depended on the lords of the Vale being aware of Viserys Targaryen’s plans. At the same time, he doubted the Gulltown fleet would set sail to aid the Royal Fleet, considering the strained relations between the Eyrie and the Iron Throne.
He was curious to see what would happen when the sellsails and the Royal Fleet clash in the Narrow Sea.
‘Whatever happens, it’ll be a unique opportunity to strengthen the North’s naval footprint in the region.’ Harry mused.
He made a mental note to increase the number of his ships even if he had to buy new ones from Braavos. Even though he already had one of the largest fleets in Westeros, his numbers were comparatively smaller than those of the Royal Fleet and the Redwyne Fleet. A war in the Narrow Sea would naturally diminish the strength of the Royal Fleet. Once the war spread in the south, he also suspected the Royal Fleet based out of Lannisport would come in conflict with the Redwyne Fleet.
It was his hope that events would play out as he suspected, and all he had to do was stay far away from the southern kingdoms.
*****
The Tyrell pavilion stood out even among the opulent displays of heraldry and wealth surrounding the tourney grounds. Its green and gold banners shimmered in the afternoon sun, the golden rose of Highgarden against the rich emerald backdrop. Inside the pavilion, Olenna Tyrell perched on a cushioned chair, her cane resting beside her. Her sharp blue eyes followed the activity on the field with a mix of boredom and vague interest.
"Your brother looks magnificent out there," Olenna said, her tone laced with approval as she glanced at Willas.
Willas Tyrell sat in a simpler chair beside his grandmother, his legs stretched out in comfort.
It heartened her to see her grandson bereft of his old injury. As a grandmother, she was not supposed to have favourites, but Willas was her favourite. Her eldest grandson was the future of Highgarden, and she had invested a lot of her time and energy in making sure Willas was ready to take on the mantle when his time came.
Willas smiled faintly at her comment.
“Garlan always does," Willas replied. "He thrives in the lists. A true knight."
"True knights are rarer than hen's teeth," Olenna said with a snort, leaning forward to watch as Garlan, resplendent in a suit of gilded plate, unseated his opponent with a clean, decisive lance strike. "But I'll grant Garlan his due. If half the knights in the realm fought with his honour, we'd have fewer wars and more time for gardening."
Olenna smiled at the image of the greatest knights in their shining armour, kneeling on the ground, planting seeds and watering plants.
Willas chuckled softly with a knowing look.
"And yet, grandmother, war seems to bloom as persistently as the roses in Highgarden."
Olenna gave him a sidelong glance, her sharp wit honed and ready.
"Speaking of blooming, let us talk of your sister. Margaery needs a husband.”
Willas shifted in his seat, his brows lifting slightly.
"I thought we were waiting for the right opportunity to present itself. Who did you have in mind?"
The Queen of Thorns tapped her cane against the floor with impatience. "Aegon Targaryen, of course."
Willas straightened at her words, his calm exterior momentarily slipping.
"Aegon? The boy who claims to have survived Robert's purge? Grandmother, the Targaryen cause is tenuous at best. Supporting him would mean risking everything we've built." Willas whispered.
Olenna waved a hand dismissively, her rings glittering in the sunlight streaming into the pavilion.
"Tenuous, you say? The boy has a name, a cause, and, more importantly, he has Dorne’s support. The Game of Thrones is no place for cowards, Willas. If this Aegon has even half the spine of his ancestors, he'll make a formidable ally."
“I’m not so sure, grandmother. I don’t think this Aegon is as formidable as you think. His claim itself stands like a castle on loose sand. Dorne’s support notwithstanding, I suspect this latest scheme of Prince Doran is nothing but folly.”
“It’s your father’s wish to make Margaery a queen. If Cersei Lannister hadn’t opened her legs to her own brother, we might’ve had a chance to make your sister the queen of the seven kingdoms.”
“My father wishes for many things, grandmother.” Illas waved dismissively, “I think Loras’ suggestion has some merit. Lord Renly is young and a Lord Paramount of the Stormlands. That is a good match.”
Olenna snorted.
“Your brother is blinded by Renly’s perfect smile. The Baratheons will be facing their greatest challenge soon. They’ll be in active conflict against Dorne and the Targaryen loyalists, disillusioned with Baratheon rule. There are certain elements in the Faith that also make hostile moves against them. The Vale has already become hostile and stands defiantly against Stannis. It won’t be long for others to do the same.”
“Stannis is an accomplished warrior and a military commander.” Willas said with a frown.
“No amount of military experience will help Stannis when he has enemies on all sides.” Olenna said with a scoff. “Do you think Lord Hoster will support Stannis when one of his daughters accuses the queen of murdering her husband? Do you think the North would support Stannis when Harrion Stark is poised to become the consort of the Princess of Dorne?”
"Even so, grandmother, we must tread carefully. Aegon could lose as easily as he could win. And if we back him too soon, the consequences could be dire." Willas said with a sigh.
"Dire consequences are a part of the game," Olenna said sharply. "We can't afford to sit idly by while the pieces move. Aegon has potential, and potential is worth investing in. Besides, who else in this wretched realm is worthy of your sister?"
“We don’t even know whether Aegon is who he claims to be. What if Prince Doran is merely championing a puppet to control the throne as he sees fit?” Willas asked with genuine concern.
“Then it’ll be our solemn duty to learn the schemes brewing in the deserts of Dorne. We’ll not be fooled if that’s what Prince Doran intends.”
“How are we supposed to do that?” Willas asked with a displeased frown, suspecting what was coming next, and he immediately disliked it.
“You will be going to Sunspear and meet this Aegon. You may take Garlan with you. You two can see with your eyes and hear with your own ears.”
“What are we supposed to do? Ask this Aegon whether he is who he says he is?” Willas asked with a deadpan look.
“No, see whether this Aegon is a dragon or not.”