1,699My thanks to MandTeKad who serves as a sounding board and beta for this and my other stories.
This story was released last month on the story's Discord server, and in redrafted form anywhere from 6 weeks to 4 mouths ago to those who support my writing.
A link for pathways to join the server or support my writing can be found at the end of the chapter.
A/N: This chapter hasn't had the same careful looked over from Mand as usual as he has begun his own story and then was challenged by a Smurf to get out 100k in 10 days.
Mand managed the challenge, and the name of the story is at the end of the chapter, but if there's something that feels rougher than normal, blame the Smurf.
41: Lifting the Shroud 1
… …
I slid my front foot back, ensuring the thrust of Edric's blade wouldn't strike my shin. At the same time, the blade I was holding – blunted for training purposes – crashed against Trystane's shield. The Martell boy had seen the attack coming early enough that he could get the shield up to defend himself, but the angle wasn't ideal as it allowed my blade to slice across the front of the shield. As the blade was blunted, no mark was left, but that was something I could exploit.
Pushing my weight into the blade, I drove Trystane's shield, and the arm holding it down toward the deck of the Kraken. Around us, as we engaged in the training spar, the crew of the war galley went about their business. The blades might not be sharp, but after the first day when one deckhand had drifted too close and taken a smack from Edric's blade, they made sure to maintain their distance.
Edric moved forward, trying to help his friend but my shield came around, slamming into the side of his blade and pushing him away. With that done, I moved toward Trystane, the shield coming around to strike at him. His blade was trapped behind his shield, unable to get around to help and as the flat of my shield rushed toward his shoulder, I saw his eyes widen under his helm.
I pulled my blow so it wouldn't do lasting damage, but the force of it was still strong enough that the Prince of Dorne was forced back, stumbling badly in an attempt to keep his balance. As he worked to recover from my blow, I spun to Edric.
My blade flashed out, cutting the air to keep him back just far enough that he couldn't exploit the fact I was moving and exposing my back to him. That had been an intentional flaw as I fought, wanting to grant Edric the chance to see it, but not leave him enough time to exploit it. As much as skill mattered, reactions were just as important which was what these training sessions were about more than teaching the pair to work together in battle, though that was the focus I told them to work on.
Edric kept his distance, having learnt to not overcommit against a bigger, stronger, and faster opponent who also had greater reach. My blade crashed against his shield, the Dayne boy doing a better job of angling his shield to deflect the attack. However, my shield came crashing into his shield moments after my blade slid away, driving Edric to the side, and right to where my blade was.
"And you're dead," I said gently, the blunted edge of the blade resting against Edric's neck. The armour he wore ensured the blow didn't do any damage, but the pain from the strike would serve as a reminder to keep his focus on both sword and shield at the same time. It was a difficult lesson to master, but one that mattered greatly in battle.
Edric's shoulders slumped and I caught a slight grunt of annoyance. "There is no shame in losing to your better in training," I said as I pulled my blade back, "only in not learning from your mistakes and continually seeking to improve yourself." I turned to my side, seeing Trystane had recovered from my blow driving him back, but hadn't managed to move to help Edric. "You both fought well, and you're learning the keys to fighting beside the other to engage larger and more dangerous foes. That is what I wanted, and the more you focus on that, the greater your chances are of surviving the coming battles."
Trystane nodded, taking in my words but it was clear he was as unimpressed with his performance as Edric was with his. I moved toward him, planning to go into detail about the things they'd done well in the most recent spar and discuss ways they might improve.
"Land sighted!"
The call had my head turning upward, toward the Crow's Nest. There, the barrelman was extending his arm forward. I looked toward the bow, though even with my enhanced sight, I struggled to make out anything more than a faint ripple on the horizon. I already knew we'd be coming into sight of the southernmost of the islands that made up The Whores today, but it seemed that during the spars with my squires, I'd lost track of time.
After giving the boys a nod, I moved toward the foredeck, wanting to think about how I was going to handle matters in the next day or so.
The fleet, numbering over thirty ships and a little north of twenty-two hundred men had set sail from Northpoint about a quarter-moon ago. We'd spent about the same amount of time in the small but growing settlement as while I wanted to push on to The Whores and then The Shrouded Isle, I had matters to take care of first.
Everything of value, bar around a thousand Dragons, had been taken into Northpoint, and the Windchaser and Ilaerah's Luck had departed for Sunspear with escorts the day before the fleet had set sail for The Whores. They'd not been able to take everything, but anything that was potentially perishable was gone, along with a few samples of other items such as rolls of Myrish silk, porcelain from Volantis and even a few casks of wine from YiTi. It would be interesting to see what those brought, but I suspected that much of it wouldn't sell for as much in Sunspear as it might in other locations in Westeros. While sending my cogs on further to trade, there was too much risk in that for my liking. At least so long as The Shrouded Isle was under the control of pirates.
The goods that remained in Northpoint, including all the coin and the overwhelming majority of the gems and jewellery, were secured in the building I'd taken as my office and solar. I'd given Irryl Phenias leave to increase the size of the settlement's watch, leaving four galleys and eight longboats and crew for most of them as a permanent defence fleet. All told, nearly four hundred men were staying in a settlement with a population a little north of two-fifty to protect it and my treasure. Yes, it might be wiser to have most of it transferred to Sunspear, but with only three vessels capable of trading under my control, I had to move the larger goods first and hope that none of the men left in Northpoint felt like helping themselves to my bounty.
If I'd just been using the men I'd acquired on Redwater, along with those who'd sailed there with me, for my forces, leaving four hundred men – that included the trade fleet – I'd have been shorthanded for assaulting elsewhere in the Stepstones. Thankfully, in the nearly two months that had passed since I'd set sail for Redwater, around two hundred sellswords and men interested in fighting for coin had arrived on Dustspear. Like everyone else who joined me, they had the charter read to them and then made to leave a mark beside their name.
With the new men, I had the crew for the thirty ships heading with me, but none was as fully crewed as it could be. Taking a fleet that could easily become short-handed if we suffered a few defeats was a risk, but the sight of so many ships moving as one would have most pirates turning tail to run, or where they couldn't, dropping to their knees and begging for my mercy.
Now, I knew that others in the Steps would have larger fleets, something confirmed by scouting out Saan's holdings as best I could with a few gulls I'd flown until they'd basically fallen from the sky, but those were generally spread out through various ports. I had the advantage, at least for now, of being an unknown factor and being able to concentrate my forces into a handful of larger forces that would overwhelm most ports in the region. I just had to be cautious to not spread myself too thinly.
Beyond the obvious danger of my forces being too far away from each other to offer support, my forces were by and large, pirates that had until recently fought against each other. The only upside to them, and one I was planning to exploit, was their number. What lay before me was the choice of moving against The Whores and finishing what I started here several moons ago, or sailing beyond them and striking at The Shrouded Isle, starting with Lucian Koros.
The Whores stood out simply because I disliked the fact I'd failed to cleanse them fully the first time around and wished to remove the small stain on my record of losing to whoever commanded Aeron Indarys' forces in the chain. The problem with those seven islands was that even if I took them, I'd spend time, men, and vessels brawling as if in the fighting pits in the darkest sections of The Shadow City to not lose them. The Whores were, in every way, a death trap for any who entered, yet controlled a vital section of the sea near the Dornish coast.
The same was true of The Shrouded Isle, though while the island – one of the largest in the Stepstones – was closer to the Broken Arm than The Whores, it was also further from locations that might contain fishing villages. The coast of the Arm was jagged rock, which while useful for hiding a handful of vessels for ambushes, offered precious few targets of opportunity for pirates. Countering that was the fact the narrow stretch of sea between the southern tip of The Shrouded Isle and Dorne meant it was often ripe for targeting trade vessels heading through the passage to either the Narrow Sea or the Summer Sea.
That land was controlled by Lucian Koros, who would be the first target I moved against on the island, but both he and The Bloodhawk – along with the two minor pirate lords of Crann Snow and Garvy Pyke – would be more vicious fighters, used to regular combat not just with each other but any vessel, be it trade or military, that sailed through the waters they claimed.
Both men had numbers roughly equal to mine, with the Bloodhawk supposedly having fewer men but more vicious fighters. He and those men would be a challenge, but perhaps Koros and the disposition of his forces would work in my favour. I knew where his ports were from the men who'd bent the knee when I'd blitzed The Whores earlier this year, and once closer I'd be using Rian and the gulls to scout those locations and the rest of the island on the chance he had a hidden port. Yet, for all that I knew I could take my first two or three targets on The Shrouded Isle, doing so would commit me to a wider battle.
The moment I made landfall on The Shrouded Isle, I'd have to take the whole island, by the end of that I'd be under threat from Bloodstone, and the three pirate lords there. I had a score to settle with Aeron Indarys, but I was concerned that pushing onward to take Bloodstone as well, or at least clear it of pirates enough that settling up a permanent settlement on the west of The Shrouded Isle would place me in the crosshairs of Tyrosh at the very least.
In theory, provided the pirates on The Shrouded Isle and Bloodstone bent the knee at the same rate as one Dustspear and Redwater, then I'd be looking at a force of six or seven thousand men by the time the latter island fell. That was decent, but against the might – military and financial – of a Free City, it was nothing but a bump in the road. There was a chance I could pull back after Bloodstone was cleared, and leave the island unclaimed, but that was only a temporary solution to avoid drawing the wrath of a Free City.
Regardless of which target I moved against fully, and what my actions brought forth, I had to consider the new men under my command and ensure they remained loyal. The biggest example of that was Rakakz the Gilded Hand. The former pirate lord on Redwater had, in the moon since bending the knee, not given me any inclination to not doubt his sincerity in his loyalty, and had obeyed my orders well. Yet, for all that I trusted him about half as far as either of my squires could throw the man. At best.
I wanted him to prove himself in battle, but having him at my side created a problem as I found myself unable to trust one of my captains, which was what I'd had to make him to ensure he and his men came into my ranks peacefully. Having to place a man I didn't trust in a position of command was a dangerous proposition, but it was one I was now faced with.
I had no intention of becoming yet another name forgotten to history who died in the Stepstones, yet if I granted Rakakz too much, or even too little, rope, that was what I risked happening. I just had to hope I could find that balance point and deploy him into battles where he wouldn't have a great chance to betray me.
That should be more achievable as I had Rian and a dozen mind-broken gulls with me. Through them, I'd have every chance to scout The Whores, The Shrouded Isle, and the rest of the Stepstones without others learning how I knew of their positions. I'd already scouted The Whores, which was why we were sailing without much fear for the southernmost island.
The fighting in this group of islands was focused on the northeastern corner and no pirate had moved to reclaim the southernmost island, or even those that lay closest to the Dornish coast. That granted me a few options that I'd be considering over the next day or so before I decided on the path forward with my captains.
… …
… …
I stood on the quarterdeck of the Kraken looking southeasterly toward The Whores. The war galley was the last of the ships I had that was leaving The Whores, though some would be remaining behind. The longboats would be staying with three hundred men under Bronn's command. His orders were to secure the island and thus hold a fallback and relay position for my forces in the event I had to either send the Pride of Saltbrook and other ships back to Northpoint or if I was forced to withdraw from my planned assault on Lucian Koros on The Shrouded Isle.
Bronn's secondary orders were if it wouldn't threaten his position, he was to move against the pirates in The Whores, either bringing them under his command or damaging their positions and forces enough that when I returned they'd be easily swept aside. From my recon flights of the islands, there were somewhere between four and five hundred men in The Whores. They were grouped on the northern, central, and eastern islands of the chain, controlling eight ports.
Those were the same eight ports that I'd failed to assault in my raid on The Whores earlier this year, however, I had no idea if the ports were still held for the same pirate lords as they were back then. Things were always fluid in the Stepstones, and in The Whores more so, but even so, I suspected that the biggest player in The Whores was Aeron Indarys.
It had been his forces that had attempted to trap and destroy my fleet nearly half a moon ago, and as four of the ports were meant to have been under his control, that left him in a position of power. I knew he'd not managed to take all the active ports, as through Rian's eyes I'd seen ships clashing both inside The Whores and in the seas to the north and east. Those clashes had been minor skirmishes, as pirates were reluctant to commit to open battle unless they had overwhelming advantages, but the fact skirmishes were taking place suggested Bronn had a good chance of at least harassing and weakening the pirates near him.
Even if he couldn't do much damage to the pirates in The Whores, I now, in theory, had a location to relay through and fallback to, and that was something I knew I'd need given the distance between The Shrouded Isle and Dustspear.
I heard footsteps behind me, and from the gentler sound of them, suspected it was one or both of my squires. "My Lord," Edric began even as I started turning to greet him. "Wa… was it wise to leave command to a sellsword? Would not Ser Daemon have been a better choice?" As he asked that, I looked at Trystane, and the Prince of Dorne nodded in agreement with his fellow squire.
I chuckled, amused that Edric now felt comfortable enough to ask such questions openly. I had been teaching them that even as squires, they had the right to ask questions of my decisions – as it was a great way for them to learn the logic I was using and prepare for commanding men themselves – but this was the first time the heir to Starfall had done so.
Some men might dislike having others question them in front of the common men under their command, but I had some trust in the crew of the Kraken. Almost all of them had been with me since the raids on The Whores and had proven their worth in battle.
"I have my reasons," I replied with a warm smile, my eyes drifting from the boys to the men moving about the main deck and then returning to the squires. "Something I am willing to explain over a drink."
The pair nodded their agreement, not that they had much choice in the matter if I wished to push, and I walked toward the short flight of stairs leading to the main deck. My squires fell into step behind me, though they stayed silent as we moved. After a nod to Miltar, as he manned the helm and a few more to other members of the crew, I reached the door of my cabin and pulled it open.
Inside, Ymir raised his head, though that was the extent of his movement. He'd enjoyed a few short runs on the islands we'd stopped at, but that was all the time off the Kraken he'd had. With there being little wind today to generate a breeze, he was staying in my cabin out of the sun.
"Hey boy," I said as I moved past, running my hand along his back. The fact that I could do that, even with my height, while he rested on a rug in the centre of the cabin was another small reminder of just how large he was. Yet, when I compared the image of him now to the body of his mother when I'd found him and Quicksilver, I knew he still had some room to grow; perhaps more than a little if the males of the species were the larger of the pair.
As I moved toward the table in the cabin, my thoughts drifted to Quicksilver and Robb. The last missive I'd received from my cousin stated that many in the North saw the direwolf as a sign Robb was destined for greatness, even before he became Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. So much so that he and Ned had received offers of marriage from several of the Great Houses in the North, and even from a few south of the Neck.
Remembering the hints of desperation in his words brought forth a chuckle, and I wondered which of the houses had offered daughters for him. The only ones unlikely to do so were the Manderlys, as they already had Wylla betrothed to Beron, but I could see Lord Wyman chancing it and offering Wynafryd as a bride for Robb. The girl's uncle, Ser Wendel was the spare to House Manderly after Ser Wylis, but having options for others to take over White Harbour if the worst happened would be a smart move.
Each time a letter came in from Robb or one of his siblings, I wondered if there was any way I could warn my northern family of the dangers slowly growing on the horizon. However, I had yet to determine any way that I could do so without sounding like a madman, or if someone intercepted my letters, drawing attention to myself from threats I wasn't yet ready to engage. The best I'd managed to do was hint at the idea that with Jon Arryn getting up in years when he died it was likely that Robert would seek out Ned to become Hand of the King. Robb had said his father would consider that an honour so in my last letter, sent before moving against Redwater, I'd made clear the dangers of what happened when a Stark headed south.
I knew Ned would accept the offer from Robert, seeing it as his honour and duty to replace the man that they had fostered with as Robert's Hand of the King, however, that enraged me. Ned was acting like a Gods-damn Andal from the Vale instead of a wolf of the North.
As I reached the table, I pushed thoughts of the North and elsewhere aside because, as things stood, there was little to nothing I could do about future political events in King's Landing. Perhaps, if my actions in the Stepstones went better than even my most optimistic projections, then I might be able to intervene as an outside force, but that was a pipe dream at best.
"Be seated," I said to my squires as I moved to a side desk. There, I pulled the cork from a flagon of ale and began pouring three mugs. There was some fresh water onboard, but I saw no need to drink that, nor the watered-down ale and rum that the crew had. While young, my squires were used to drinking to some degree, and with little to do until after lunch, I saw no harm in letting them have something to drink. I did, however, only fill their mugs about halfway whereas mine was filled close to the brim.
After passing the mugs to the boys, I settled a chair at the table and took a long swig of the ale. While not as tart as a Dornish red, it was a decent drink and far less offensive to the senses than the rum onboard and nowhere as sickly sweet as anything from the Reach. "I have many reasons for choosing Bronn to command the garrison over Daemon, Cadye, or Jaeronos. Can you, perhaps, determine what those are?"
The pair frowned. As they considered the matter which was what I expected. Since taking them on as my squires, I'd spent regular time in a cabin discussing my decisions. I was training them to be more than simple knights, but commanders for the wars to come. Edric would one day inherit Starfall, so the lessons on command would filter over into how he ruled, and while it was uncertain what Trystane's fate would be, I made sure my words and reasons were clearly defined so that they could learn and adapt my thinking on how to lead and rule.
There was nothing wrong with being kind and considerate, but that should only be applied at the right time and in the right way. In war, command had to be hard and clear, though room for spontaneity should also exist; at least among knights and those of similar skill as one didn't want a common foot soldier or levy acting out in ways that might compromise the entire force.
"Do you not trust him and thus wish him left behind?"
I chuckled at Edric's suggestion and shook my head. "If I did not trust him, I would not leave him with three hundred men and eight vessels under his command. No would I have tasked him with leading strike forces on Redwater."
"The vessels you left with Bronn are the smallest you have, and best suited to combat in The Whores.
I raised my mug, conceding Trystane's point. I didn't respond otherwise, choosing to take another sip of the ale and letting the pair think on the matter further. As the silence stretched out, I took a long drink of the ale, downing perhaps half the mug.
"You trust Bronn, but you also do not."
I leaned forward. "Go on," I said to Edric who had offered that comment rather hesitantly.
The heir to Starfall glanced at his fellow squire before doing as I asked. "Ser Bronn is a good fighter, better than either you or Ser Daemon," I grunted, disliking that fact. "That makes him good to have at your side in battle, but you are uncertain about him as a commander. At least of any force large enough to not be under the command of another."
"Bronn is a good battlefield commander, Edric. He spent over a decade as a sellsword before I hired him learning how to fight and lead men in Westeros and Essos. That is not a factor in why I left him in The Whores. Or at least any perceived distrust of his battlefield command skills. I'm testing him in another way."
Bronn had hinted when we'd talked before I'd left him behind that he understood my logic on the matter, which meant the ball was now in his court as to how to respond. He would suspect that I might keep tabs on him via Rian and the gulls, but he had no way to be certain, so I was looking forward to seeing how he beached with the long leash I'd granted him. I hoped he wouldn't betray my trust, but if he did, then I would handle the matter once I returned to The Whores.
Silence once more fell over my cabin, and I enjoyed some more of my ale.
"Your plans go beyond just clearing the Stepstones," Trystane said slowly as if unsure of his words or at least the idea behind them. "You plan to hold some of the islands, and for that you need men to rule in your name. The Whores is a test for Bronn to see if he's worthy of being one of those men."
"That is the biggest reason why I chose Bronn to command the outpost, yes, however, it is not the only one." I leaned forward, putting my almost empty mug down on the table. "Controlling all of the Steps is beyond me. Hells, it was beyond even the Targaryens, though Daemon Targaryen came close holding the area for two years before returning to King's Landing. No, what I hope to achieve is to take every island near the Dornish coast, thus controlling the passage of ships through there. The problem exists in that it is a rather large expanse of water. If I rule from Dustspear, then that leaves The Whores and The Shrouded Isle alone; free for others to claim and disrupt my plans. The same is true if I rule from either of those places instead of Dustspear, and none of that considers what to do with Redwater."
"If you intend to hold The Whores, then why not move to claim them now?"
I smirked at Edric's question. I suspected he already knew the answer but wished to hear me voice it. "Because doing so would expose me to attacks from pirates on The Shrouded Isle, Bloodstone, and Grey Gallows. So many in fact that I suspect I'd be ground to dust by them."
"Have you given any thought to who would rule where?"
I looked at Trystane, wondering if there was more than a passing interest in the question. As third in line to Sunspear, it was unlikely he would inherit anything. He could become like Manfrey Martell, and serve in the household, or become a wanderer like Oberyn, but I felt neither path held much interest to him. Perhaps, once he was knighted and experienced in command, he might have an interest in ruling somewhere in my name. If that were to be the case, I would not complain. By then he would be a skilled water mage and warrior, and finding land for him would secure support from Dorne regardless of whether it was Doran, Arianne or another of their family who sat in the Spear Chair.
"I have not, though if either of you have thoughts both on who should rule and where they should base themselves, I would be open to hearing them, though not today. For today, we will stay focused on Bronn and the other reason for my choosing to leave him in command of the outpost in The Whores."
A third silence fell over my cabin, this one only punctuated by Ymir as he started snoring. It wasn't loud, but with nothing bar the sounds of the men on the deck and the waves lapping against the hull to fight against, it was easy to hear. As the boys thought about what other reason I might have for my choice, I looked at the direwolf, the amusing idea of him acting as a steed for either of my squires.
For all he liked children, Ymir had yet to allow any bar my younger sisters – by blood or marriage – to rest on his back while he moved. Aliandra was his favourite to allow to ride him, which was something she enjoyed holding over our half-sisters, but he never denied any of them a short ride upon his back when they came looking. At his current size, he would be capable of carrying both my squires with ease, and while the idea of riding a direwolf into battle would be one I'd never let go of, I knew it wouldn't happen, not even for the boys.
Having something that much taller on his back would mean many of the paths Ymir took through the forests would be lost as he'd have to watch for overhanging branches that would be an issue for his passenger but not himself. The other issue was that either of the squires would be in armour if they rode him, adding more weight to go along with the chainmail I had for the direwolf; armour that was slowly becoming too small as Ymir continued to expand.
"Is it because you trust Bronn less than Ser Cayde or Ser Jaeronos?"
I chuckled as I turned back to the table. "For all their skill, neither of them had been knighted," I said as I responded to Edric's question. "That said, you are correct in that they feel more trustworthy than Bronn simply based on their station of birth. Still, just like Bronn, their loyalty is secured currently with coin, meaning if someone offered them a large enough purse to stab me in the back, they would consider the offer. Something they know that I know, and we are comfortable with. At least for the time being.
"Leaving Bronn behind is more than just a test of his effectiveness as a commander. It's a challenge for him to prove his loyalty extended beyond coin. He has enough men with him, men that for the most part had formerly served Rakakz, that if he wished, he could attempt to sail off and establish a pirate haven for himself. Hells, he could in theory even sail back to Dustspear and attempt to take it over and abscond with everything we took from Redwater."
That was unlikely as not only had I left orders that if anyone bar myself and Daemon returned in command of a fleet it was to be considered hostile, but that if I saw him sailing southward from The Whores, then I'd push a gull to its limits to get a warning to Phenias of the treacherous inbound attack. What I wanted from Bronn, and I felt he knew this, was for him to prove his loyalty could extend beyond his next payday, into seeing value in staying loyal to my cause. I wasn't expecting personal loyalty from the sellsword currently, but I hoped that developed in the future.
"What if he does not move, knowing that you are challenging him in this way?"
"Oh, I'm sure he is aware of most of what I expect him to do, or not do as the case may be. That, however, is part of the test in of itself." Both squires frowned, slightly confused by my logic. "He will know I am testing him, possibly in every way I intend. The trick will be him showing me that I can trust him to command in my name without doing too much thus making it seem he is pushing too fast to gain my loyalty. I expect him to harass the pirates in The Whores, however baring something impressive, I see no way that he can take out all of them. If he does, or gets them to bend the knee, then I will be unable to trust him entirely; expecting a betrayal further down the road."
The eyes of both boys widened as they understood my twisted logic. I chuckled at that and finished off what remained of the ale in my mug. "Now," I continued as I moved to stand, "with that over, I believe it would be a good time for you to resume your extra training."
They groaned at that, knowing I meant magical training in this cabin. Neither enjoyed sitting on the deck for hours nor had they managed to draw forth any magic that might flow through their veins. However, I was confident that before the year ended Trystane would unlock his affinity toward Water Magic. I wasn't sure if or when Edric would learn to harness magic, but I felt he had to have some potential and even if that were to simply focus it inward, making him a better fighter, it was worth pursuing.
As the boys, after finishing the last of their mugs stood, and I poured myself another full mug of ale, my thoughts returned to Bronn. I expected Bronn to pass the tests I'd placed before him, even a few that I hoped he didn't know existed and that I'd not mentioned to my squires. If he could, then he'd join Daemon, Jaeronos, and Cayde on the list of potential lords to rule in my stead across the western Stepstones. Yes, the latter two were sellswords like Bronn, but both had been born with some standing and thus received an education comparable to myself and Daemon.
Still, even Daemon, if offered a title and control of an area of the Stepstones, wouldn't be immune to the offer to turn their cloak if a more powerful and better-financed player entered the picture. I didn't fear any issues with King's Landing, at least until Robert's death, but the potential threats from Essos always loomed large.
The Archon of Tyrosh, followed by Magisters in Myr and Lys could pay almost any amount to buy the loyalty of someone serving me, and even if those I hoped to name lords stayed at my side, those beneath their command might not. That was why I intended to not move beyond Bloodstone and Redwater. If I stayed in the western and central areas of the Steps and made no move to take over the east – even offering favourable terms for vessels from the Free Cities to pass through waters under my control – then I hoped the Free Cities would accept my presence and the safer transit I would be offering.
That said, even if I hoped for that, I expected any, if not all, of the trio of cities to move against me. Each had a direct fleet numbering, according to rumour, of over a hundred warships. The smallest of those front-line vessels would match the Kraken and her sister ships, and that was ignoring that any or all of those cities could pay bands of pirates or sellsword companies to fight on their behalf. Still, I had committed to this plan not long after defeating the Grim Prince and would see it through to wherever it ended.
After all, if I couldn't defeat a bunch of pirates, what hope did I have against a Wildling force that could number in the tens of thousands, to say nothing of the threat posed by the Others?
… …
… …
As had become a daily occurrence since the fleet had set sail from Northpoint, I found myself high above the Kraken taking in the world through the eyes of Rian. The sun was slowly setting to the west, bathing the Broken Arm and the sea of the coast in slowly growing shadows. Those didn't reach my fleet, nor were they the focus of my attention.
That honour belonged to the holdings of Lucian Koros as Rian circle high above The Shrouded Isle, and in particular a hidden sixth location under Koros' control. Unlike what I had expected, this was not another port by an inland settlement. Located near a small range of mountains in the centre of the land Koros claimed and at a point where two rivers flowed into the sea of the Stepstones, the settlement appeared three to four times the size of Northpoint with better defences and a larger population.
Through several flights over the last day or so, I'd discovered that while there were potentially over five hundred bodies in the settlement, not all were pirates. Perhaps half, based on the work they were doing and the way others treated them, were slaves. Those bodies worked fields, gathered water from the rivers, and other menial jobs to keep the settlement tiding over, and seemed broken down by the actions of Koros and his men.
I wasn't sure if Koros was in the settlement, but given it had roads leading to three of his five ports – the two major ports also at the end of the rivers that flowed past this inland settlement – it would make sense he would rule from there. With the well-established paths, he could move men reasonably quickly from one side of the island to the other to reinforce a port under attack or increase the men that would sail from said port to attack other pirate lords or raid passing vessels. That ability was further enhanced by the placement of several watchtowers along the paths, ensuring that even if the settlement weren't able to see each of the connected ports clearly, it would be aware of what was going on via those towers. With all that in mind, I'd spoken with Daemon – via quick messages sent by Rian – about slight alterations to the plan we were going to use against Koros.
The initial plan had been to split our forces equally, with him striking a small supply port nestled in the crook of the island. A port that I now knew was connected to the settlement, and by a short, thinner path to another supply port. At the same time, I was to take the other half of the fleet and attack one of Koros' three main ports.
This port rested at the very southern tip of the island, allowing the ships based there easy access to any vessel sailing around the Broken Arm. From what I'd seen through Rian's eyes, that was Koros' second-largest port; the largest being the most easterly one and thus closest to territory under the control of the Bloodhawk. That included three war galleys under Koros' control, though those hadn't yet sailed far from the port, serving more as defensive forces to deter an attack from the Bloodhawk.
The port I was going to attack, once taken, would grant me control over almost all of the Dornish coast, and once my rule was secure, I could see about insisting on toils for vessels travelling through those waters. I wouldn't demand anything excessive, but just enough so that they could pass through freely and without the threat of harassment.
In theory, the Dornish Lords along the Broken Arm, such as Ser Symon Santagar who ruled from Spottswood, might object to me all but assuming control of their coasts. However, ignoring that I was close to House Martell, none of those houses had made any move to counter Koros or the Grim Prince when the pair had run rampant along the Broken Arm, nor even after Doran's fleet had driven most of the pirates back and offered escorts to trade vessels sailing through the Stepstones along the Dornish coast.
Doran's fleet had made Koros more cautious, not least when he'd lost four vessels in an engagement with the Dornish fleet. However, he still kept six galleys in the port I was to take, using them to target long vessels or small fleets of traders that passed by the island.
With six galleys, possibly around four hundred men, and few options for falling back when faced with a threat, I expected the battle to take the port would be difficult, but I was looking forward to it. I longed for the thrill of battle again and hoped the pirates didn't just roll over and surrender, nor flee northward, toward Koros' port on the western coast of The Shrouded Isle.
With the reveal of the settlement, I expected them to fight as I was only taking a quarter of the entire fleet with me, the rest sailing with Daemon. Most should stay back, hiding their strength until after the supply port was taken. That would mean Koros received a false report of the strength of men that had taken his port, and thus responded with a force able to take the initial assault wave, but not the entirety of the men under Daemon's command. Daemon was going to hav…
My thoughts on the coming battles were pushed aside as Rian alerted me to something that had caught his attention. Looking eastward, to the sea that lay between The Shrouded Isle, Bloodstone, and Grey Gallows, I saw five vessels engaged in a skirmish. This was the sixth time since we'd first reached The Whores that Rian had seen combat vessels moving in the sea of the Stepstones. What made this one different enough that I had Rian angle toward it, was that the ships weren't just skirting around each other, but about to engage in boarding actions.
As Rian glided closer, the winds high above the pirates and ships below, I picked out that two of the vessels, those being chased, bore sigils for Alequo Ryndoon. The trio chasing belonged to the Bloodhawk. One of Ryndoon's vessels was falling behind the other, slowly being reeled in by the Bloodhawk's forces.
As the distance between the vessels slowly grew smaller, and Rian glided gracefully toward them, I saw that none of the vessels were deploying scorpions. There was at least one on each vessel, but none of the pirates seemed willing to use a bolt against other pirates. That, perhaps, might be useful as while I had fewer bolts per ship than when I'd set sail for Redwater, extras had been collected from Northpoint – along with more bows, axes, hammers, and blades – so each of my ships held enough for fifty bolts for each scorpion. If I were forced into a serious naval engagement, it would add another option to my arsenal that the pirates would be unwilling to respond with in kind.
Time passed slowly until Ryndoon's vessel was within range of arrows from the led Bloodhawk vessel. Ryndoon's men had to remain at their oars, trying to power themselves forward in the hope of escaping their pursuers. Ryndoon's other vessel continued to pull away, leaving their compatriots to their fate and I watched them go, curious how the battle for the other galley would go.
The Bloodhawk's other vessels slowly closed as well, arrows from those galleys joining those from the first and raining death upon Ryndoon's galley. Men close to the railings were pushed overboard, shifting the deadweight in the hope it would help them escape their pursuers, yet the distance between the slowly being whittled-down galley and her pursuers continued to shrink.
As the bow of the lead galley came upon the stern of Ryndoon's vessel, grappling hooks were tossed over. The men on Ryndoon's vessel abandoned their oars, grasping whatever weapons they had to prepare to repel boarders. They were going to lose – they knew this, as did the Bloodhawk's men and myself – yet it seemed they were prepared to fight first. That hinted at some animosity between the two pirate lords these men fought for, which if the case was something I might be able to use to my advantage once I turned my attention to the Bloodhawk.
While the battle raged for the moment between the pirates, my attention was distracted by movement in the sea about a mile from the galleys. Under the surface three dark shapes were slithering toward the battle and while it was hard to be certain as to what species they were, the way their bodies slipped through the water had me certain they were a trio of sharks. The first of many that might be drawn by blood in the water from the battle.
I guided Rian toward the sharks, curious about the creatures. Much like each of my companions, sharks were apex predators; kings of the area they lived in. Yes, there were supposedly far larger creatures in the various seas of the planet – things such as krakens and leviathans – but such creatures were unlikely to travel the relatively shallow waters of the sea in the Stepstones.
I was close to maxing out Skinchanging; or more accurately, reaching level 100 which I assumed was going to be the limit of where I could take the ability. At least without doing something that I felt unlikely to ever discover. As such, based on the fact that the slots for bonded companions had come at levels 25, 50, and 75, I wondered if perhaps I might take a shark as the final companion. Or failing that, learn how they moved through the water if there was ever a need to scout from beneath the waves.
Judging the gender of the sharks was impossible, while gauging their sizes was just as hard without a point of reference, however, it was clear the trio were a family unit of some form. Two were far larger than the third, which moved along a few body lengths behind the adults. Feeling this was an opportunity, I focused my thoughts on the smallest and youngest of the group and slipped from Rian's mind intent on taking over the mind of the shark.
That plan ran into trouble within an instant as, for a brief moment, I lost sight of the shark I was trying to mentally dominate and the link I was attempting to forge weakened. When I strengthened the link, the mind I crashed against was foreign to me in ways I had little understanding of and far, far more violent.
It reeled back, knowing it was under assault and thrashed – mentally and physically – as it fought against my attempts to assimilate its thoughts into mine. As it did I realised that, while not as complicated as a human mind, the shark's thoughts were far more ordered and backed by a greater will than I'd destroyed in the two pirates I'd mentally broken.
I pushed forward, bringing all my experience as a skinchanger to bear against the shark's mind, seeking even the smallest of cracks in its defences to burst through. One such crack was found, and I slammed into it, destroying the animalistic protections of the shark's mind enough that I was able, for a moment that was both shorter than the time it took to blink, and longer than the passing of a day, experience the world through the senses of the silent seaborne predator.
Sights in shades of blue, green, and yellow filled my vision even as my mind almost shattered at eyes moving independently of each other. An unknown taste on the tip of my tongue drove me wild trying to figure out what it was, and my brain turned inwards, rejecting the insanity of what it was experiencing. Other odd sensations that I couldn't even find words to describe assaulted my mind, enhancing the primal, ferocious anger that fought to drive me from this foreign domain.
The processes crashing against my thoughts were young, yet it was backed by something ancient. Older than the First Men, and perhaps even dating back to the formation of this world. I pushed back, scratching for every figurative inch I could, yet I knew this was a battle I would lose; the sensations my mind had experienced for the longest second in my life already fading away. There was no reason to continue to fight this battle, yet I continued to do so. Perhaps, just perhaps, I might learn something from this that would help me in the future.
As the ground I'd claimed with my initial unexpected assault of this primal mind rapidly failing, and concerned of the damage being forcibly expelled from the thoughts of a beast might do to me, I pulled back. Not to Rian, fearful that the blowback of this lost contest might hurt him, but all the way to my body, leagues away in my cabin in the Kraken.
Even though I'd lain down before first shifting in Rian, when my eyes opened back in my body, I struggled to orientate myself. The world spun in colours my mind struggled to process properly. Left felt right, right felt left, up was down and down was up. My body lurched, reacting to my thoughts being garbled and I felt as if every nerve in my body was running hot and cold, reporting pain and pleasure all at the same time.
Fighting with myself, as I felt my stomach turn, I pushed myself onto my side, barely getting there before my throat constricted and lurid green bile was expelled from my mouth. Whatever I'd ejected from my body splashed to the ground, drawing a whine from somewhere else in the room, but I dared not look for the source of the new sound. Every inch of my body burnt and ran cold as my mind was overwhelmed with a myriad of sensations and emotions all of which fought for dominance.
I closed my eyes, removing one confused sense in the hope it would allow my thoughts to coalesce into something that didn't have me feeling as if every fibre of my being were aflame. The slightest shift in my body sent new, ever-rising waves of pain rushing through my body; overwhelming my feeble attempts to gain control over my body. I didn't know how long I stayed there, my eyes closed, my mouth tainted by vomit, and my body wracked in pain while I fought to realign my mind, however, eventually I felt things slowly, torturously slowly, begin to recover.
Once my head didn't feel as if someone was continually cracking it open with a mace, I opened my eyes taking in my surroundings. I was still being assaulted by the stench of the bile that now soaked the rug near my bed, but that was at last manageable. Nearby I saw Ymir watching me, his head tilted to one side in concern. Further back, in his cage in which he'd spent almost the entire time since leaving Redwater, Kaa had lifted his head. His tongue flicked out tasting the air and I could sense his confusion about my condition.
"I'm alright," I said to the pair slowly, my voice hoarse and brittle. "I did something stupid. Now I'm paying for it." Ymir whined gently, drawing a chuckle from me. However, that quickly turned into a cough wracked with agony. "I know, I know," I muttered as he whined again and took a tentative step toward me.
I stayed where I was, lying on my side on my bed, for perhaps another minute. While I was able to process my senses, I still had to recover from my failed attempt to dominate the mind of a shark. The experience had been, even for the body-terrorising pain that came afterwards, illuminating.
Seeing the world through the eyes of a seaborne creature was something entirely foreign and yet now that I had seen a brief glimpse of it, I wished to learn more. However, I knew that trying to take over a shark wouldn't be something I attempted again soon. Not only was its mind far more aggressive and alien than I'd expected, but I felt that brief moment where I'd lost sight of the beast as I'd slipped from Rian's mind had caused my attempt to fail even before I'd begun my assault.
Next time, and there would be a next time, that I attempted to take over a seaborne creature, it would be within sight of my body and something far less powerful than a shark. Trying to overwhelm the mind of such a beast had been an act of hubris, of arrogance that because I had an eagle, snake, and direwolf bonded to me and had shattered the minds of dozens of gulls, all creatures were little more than playthings for me to use as I wished.
This lesson, while a painful one – and potentially one that could've been far worse – was one I would take on board. I was not all-powerful, and even after the Red Comet came, which I hoped would remove the restrictions on magic in this world, nor would I be.
Slowly, with that revelation discovered and my body no longer assaulted by pain, I lifted myself up. My muscles hurt, fighting against my actions, but I knew that the longer I stayed lying down, the harder it would be to recover fully. I was cautious of where I placed my feet on the rug and breathed a sigh of relief at seeing none of the vomit had landed on, or worse in my boots.
As my feet slid into the boots, Ymir came closer, making sure to approach from my other side to avoid the stained and stinking rub. "Come on," I said, giving him a gentle scratch behind an ear after I finished lacing my boots. "I need some fresh air," Ymir whined; his snout pointed at the ruined rug. "Yeah, I'll get someone to toss that overboard."
It was a waste to get rid of the rug, but there was nowhere to easily clean it at sea – seawater would simply stain the rug with the stench of salt while the supplies of freshwater onboard were limited – and it wasn't anything expensive.
Moving toward the door, I stopped and shifted towards Kaa's cage. The viper hadn't been outside much since we'd left Northpoint – the crew unnerved by the size of the snake and fearful that it might bite one of them – but it would do him some good to leave the cage. Plus, with him wrapped around my neck and arms, few if any would question why I might seem pale and unsteady on my feet.
Once we made landfall, Kaa would get more room to slither around, while Ymir would enjoy fresh hunting grounds. However, neither of them nor Rian, would be granted the time to wander to their heart's content. At the first landfall on The Shrouded Isle, time would be a factor in everything I did. Not just with regards to Lucian Koros, but to the other pirate lords in the Stepstones, and other, far more powerful figures further afield.
… …
… …
I stood at the bow of the Kraken, watching almost disinterestedly in the three galleys that lay ahead of us. The trio had set sail from the port under Koros' control that I intended to assault personally about a day before my ships would've been in sight of the port. Thanks to Rian I'd seen them slip their moorings and depart, seeking to run down a pair of cogs that had travelled from the north, bound for Sunspear.
On closer inspection, I'd seen flags bearing the mark of House Tarth on their foresails, marking who was supporting their voyage. That they were risking a voyage along the coast of Dorne wasn't unexpected, but their drawing the attention of Koros' pirates had granted me an opportunity.
Striking directly at the port with half its manpower gone would ensure an easy victory, however, it would leave the three galleys at sea, and thus able to fallback and reinforce another location. Since none of the pirates had been able to sight my fleet before the raiding party had set sail to hunt the Stormlander cogs, I'd decided to attempt and take the ships at sea before assaulting the port.
Knowing the galleys would, once they sighted my fleet, seek to withdraw to their port, I'd let them sail far to the west of my fleet before circling round to strike at them from behind. We'd sailed through the night, tacking with the wind to close on the pirates while they moved stealthily to sneak up on the cogs they were preying upon.
When the sun had risen this morning, the pirates had spotted the Kraken on their stern, and while only two of the escort galleys with me we resailing alongside – the others slightly further back to keep them hidden for as long as possible – it had been enough to set them to break from their attack. They understood they had gone from predator to prey during the night, and with their path home cut off by my forces, sailed hard to escape us, banking toward a section of the Dornish coast that they likely hoped to slip into and hide from me.
Even without Rian at my command to scout from the skies, they weren't getting away from me, but I was enjoying the thrill of watching them work desperately to escape me. Rian wasn't watching over this pursuit, instead, he was further north, keeping watch on the port these pirates had sailed from and on Daemon's fleet as it approached his target.
Daemon was sailing as I'd hoped, his war galleys leading the assault with a galley to either side of the trio of larger warships. The rest of the galleys, along with the Pride of Saltbrook which carried most of our supplies, were further back, hiding in the wake of the larger vessels. He had enough men in sight to guarantee victory if the pirates in the port he was moving to assault, perhaps two hundred at most, decided to stand and fight, but had his true strength far enough away that if those pirates ran, they'd not know of the true size of the force that had taken the port. At least not without leaving scouts in the nearby woods, but Daemon would work to ensure those men were taken out, so Koros remained as unaware as possible of the size of the invading army.
I'd have Rian or a gull scouting overhead once I'd taken the port I was to target, offering as up-to-date intel as I could to Daemon, but how he, Cadye, and Rakakz set up their ambush and then sprung it would be up to the Dornish knight. My focus would be on the ports I intended to assault. Or it would be once the pirates only a handful of lengths head of the Kraken fell to their knees.
The pirates in those galleys were rowing hard, but with damage to their sails – brought forth by me using gulls carrying oil-soaked sections of rope that were alight before the birds left the Kraken – meaning they couldn't fully draw upon the wind for speed, this was a losing battle for them.
The hand holding my bow tightened as I sensed that we were almost within range of the trailing galley. Wanting to test the distance and judge the wind, I nocked an arrow. I aimed to port, since that was where the wind was blowing from, and loosed the tracking shot.
It soared high, sailing far wide of the pirates, yet as it reached the apex of its arc, its flightpath started to shift. As it fell, it drifted toward the galley, though as it splashed into the sea, it landed several yards to starboard and about twice that behind the galley's stern.
"Almost, my lord," Trystane commented. He was standing to my right, my Myrish Eye in his hand so that he could watch the pirates, and now judge how far off my shot had been. "Another few yards to port and perhaps another five or ten yards before you will be in range." He paused and laughed gently. "It seems someone saw the arrow splash down. There are some panicked movements at their helm."
"I wonder why," I offered back with a wide smirk. That drew laughter from Trystane and Edric, who was a yard behind his fellow squire. "Edric," I said, addressing him as I nocked another arrow, "tell the drummer to increase his speed."
Edric turned and headed away, carrying my orders without feeling a need to verbally confirm he received them. That was fine as in battle, his needing to confirm them verbally might distract one or both of us and cost us dearly. The drummer was only just down the steps to the main deck, pounding out the beat that kept the men at the oars in time. Those beats would carry to the other vessels, letting their drummers know to increase the speed of their beats as well.
Not all the men were at the oars. Some had to man other stations, such as Miltar at the helm, or handling the sails as we tacked with the wind. Others were nearby me on the foredeck, readying the four scorpions there in case there was a need to convince the pirates to heave-to and surrender.
I hoped they needed such a reminder, and that, even faced with the odds against them, some at least stood and fought. I could feel the battle approaching, my blood pumping heatedly through my veins in anticipation. However, even if any of these men did decide to fight, it would be nothing but a brief skirmish, though that would serve as an appetiser for the battles to come upon The Shrouded Isle.
… …
… …
"Fuck you, you dumb Westerosi cunt!"
I looked down at the man who'd just shouted that insult at me. The man, like the rest of this galley's crew, was on his knees, weapons removed, and arms tied behind their backs. Well, this man only had one arm tied up, and that was against his chest. The other arm was nothing more than a stump, from which blood was pouring onto the deck of the galley. What had formerly been attached there was currently Ymir's latest chew toy.
"Fuck your whore of a mother as well!" I didn't respond to the men, instead that came from Edric who took offence at the insult toward his aunt. Now, I was raging at the remark, but I wasn't going to lower myself to this fucker's level and respond as he wanted.
The man glared at Edric as if daring my squire to clock him again. "What?" He snapped at me, resuming his rage-filled glare. "Have to get boys to fight and beasts to fight for you?"
I sighed and shook my head, annoyed that armless and beaten this man still refused to accept the reality of the situation. A glance to my right showed me Jaeronos moving on the deck of another of the galleys. He'd be doing what I had been planning to do and explaining the situation these pirates found themselves in and the expectation that they signed my charter or were put to death. However, the one-armed man before me had not stopped shouting since he'd lost his arm, preventing me from explaining the choices that lay before him and his crewmates.
"I take it this means you won't serve me?" I asked calmly, keeping my rage at his comments about my mother out of my voice. The rage was there, but I wasn't going to give this scum the pleasure of seeing me riled up by his pathetic, but entirely unacceptable, insults.
"After your fucking beast did this!" He swung his arm out, sending blood spilling everywhere around him. The man to his right flinched, getting a squirt of blood in the face even as the one-armed man continued. "Not even if you let me fuck your bitch-whore of a mother for an entire moon!"
Ymir stepped forward, a growl slipping from his jaw even as he continued to chew on the man's arm. "Easy there," I said to the direwolf, placing a hand on his head, "this… man had chosen his fate. All that matters now is to determine the manner of it."
I wanted to pull Red Rain from its sheath and behead this fucker for his comments. However, I knew that was what he wanted. A quick, clean death. No, this fucker was getting something far worse, and just what that was slowly formed into a downright evil concept in my mind.
"What? Not got the balls to defend your family? What sort of weak-arsed cunt are you?!"
"The sort of cunt," I snarled slightly at the use of the word, "who has already wiped clean the infestation of pirates on Dustspear, Redwater, and most of The Whores, and who'll now do the same to the Shrouded Isle. Starting with your lover, Lucian Koros."
"HAH!" The man spat back, blood dripping from his mouth as he did so. "You'll never take Lucian out. He's too smart for you." While there was still venom in his tone, it was clear the man was slowly succumbing to blood loss. Letting him die slowly to his wounds was appealing, but the idea I had in my head was far more interesting and would serve as a warning to the other men about what happened to those who dared anger me.
"Hold him," I said to my men, and three stepped forward, grasping the men as I moved toward him. I raised one hand, the one around whose wrist a small necklace hung. I caught sight of a few of my men looking at that, either in fear or temptation, but paid them no more thought.
My focus was on the man before me, and as I turned the palm of my now outstretched hand upward, I summoned a ball of fire into it.
"Demon!" The man called out, his eyes like that of many others, widening as the flames rose from nothing above my hand. "False i… Arrgh!" whatever he was about to say was cut off by my commanding the flames to leap toward him.
He tried to move back, succeeding a little as some of the men holding him froze in fear at seeing the flames moving in their direction. Yet, for all his movements, and the failure of my men which I would address after this was handled, he wasn't able to escape. He tensed in terror as the flames moved toward his ripped shoulder, and I saw a dark stain appear on his trousers, which drew a smirk of amusement from me.
"Stay still or this will hurt worse," I said as I twisted my hand, shifting the direction of the flames. This man's life was already forfeit, but at least now he could serve some purpose in ensuring the rest of the pirates before me understood the danger of angering me. They would also, once they had signed the charter, know what fate awaited them if they betrayed me.
It would be better if their support came from loyalty of the heart than love of coin or fear, but I was on a timetable, and with my ranks enlarged, and continuing to swell, with former pirates, I'd take what I could.
"AGH!" The pirate screamed as I commanded the flames to assault his wounded arm. He fought to escape, to get as far from the pain I was inflicting upon him as he could. However, my men ensured he couldn't, and I kept focusing the flames on the wound.
His screams carried to the other vessels, of that I was sure, but as my flames worked their magic, his struggles and shouts lessened. His head drooped toward the deck after a while, and as the smell of burnt flesh spread to everyone on the deck, I dismissed the flames under my command.
The wound had been cauterised, though the flesh was still smoking. Many were looking on against, some even close to losing the contents of their stomachs. "The first man to be sick will join this one!" I called out, not wanting the newest ship in my fleet soaked in bile and vomit.
With that order given and taken in, I moved toward the man. Once close enough, I knelt and heard the faint, pitiful sobs coming from him. His mind had retreated inward, unable to process the sensations of feeling, hearing, and smelling his flesh being cooked but flames that floated without a source to work from. Perhaps what I'd done, and would soon do, was inhumane, but a man who made his living prying on the suffering of others deserved this and a hundred things far worse as punishment. I would do the same to every pirate I encountered, yet I knew I couldn't as I needed the manpower.
"Perhaps, in whatever time you have left, you will learn to hold your tongue when confronted by those above you," I said to him as I stood, making sure my voice carried to the others beside him who would soon sign my charter.
Looking at them, I saw few able to meet my gaze and those that did had lost almost all their fight against their situations. Hells, many of the more recent members of my men seemed pale and uncomfortable with my actions. That might be an issue going forward, but I doubted it as few would have the nerve to challenge me having seen what I'd just done. Still, to be sure the message was heard and understood, I had one more action for the man before to experience. "Bring him."
I moved toward the stern of the galley, men under my command and pirates on their knees shifting to quickly get out of my way. That fear would only grow in a few minutes once it became clear what the one-armed man's fate was to be.
Keelhauling was a brutal punishment only reserved for the worst of the worst, which that man was. He deserved a slower and more painful death, but this would have to do as I couldn't drag this out too long, otherwise, I wouldn't be able to strike the port I intended to take before Daemon had secured his position.
Still, it was going to be slightly enjoyable to watch the one-armed man panic and struggle to escape his fate once he understood what it was.
… …
… …
"The port is yours, mi'lord."
The words came from the man kneeling at my feet. I'd barely reached the sands of the Koros' port before the men there, knowing they faced death if they fought or fled, had dropped to their knees, and let go of their weapons. This man had been at the front of the lines, suggesting he was the port's commander, and with three of his galleys at sea – or so he thought – and his men vastly outnumbered, it seemed he had chosen life over death. While logical, that irritated me as I'd looked forward to battle as the one taking the galleys that had set sail from this port two days before had been unsatisfying.
Some men, perhaps two or three dozen based on the numbers kneeling on the sand and pebbles around the dock and my estimates of the port's manpower, had turned and ran. Those men had headed into the forests near the port and already Jaeronos was readying parties to move after them. However, before they did that I wanted these men secured.
I stepped forward, keeping Red Rain unsheathed in the event of a trick. "Name," I stated bluntly from under my helm.
The man raised his head, his eyes travelling up the Valyrian steel of my blade and then over my armour until his gaze found my eyes. "Lartel, mi'lord." There was a faint accent to the man's Common; Stormlander if I was correct. The lack of proper words for my title, or perceived title at any rate, made it clear he was lowborn, or perhaps pretending to be lowborn on the chance I might dismiss him as competent.
Lartel was the name given to me by those who'd bent the knee at sea for the commander of this port, so at least that checked out. Yet, while I had no hang-ups over the idea of a lowborn commanding a port, something about this entire situation felt off. A feeling shared by Ymir if the way his ears were pulled back and his teeth bared, ready for trouble.
"Is it now?" I asked, lifting my blade so that it touched his chin. "Are you certain of this?" the blade pressed gently against his flesh, the sharpness of the ancient weapon drawing blood with ease.
The man gulped as his eyes shot back to the thin trail of blood that slid down the edge of Red Rain. He opened his mouth slowly, careful to not push his jaw into the blade any further, only to stop when Ymir moved forward growling.
"My friend here," I placed the arm holding my shield over Ymir's back, which was hard to do because of the way the shield was secured against my forearm and Ymir's vast size, as I spoke, "dislikes liars and conmen."
"I…" the man gulped, increasing the flow of blood down the edge of my blade. "I… I am not, mi'lord." He lifted his right arm and pointed to my left. "Lart…"
"Fool!"
The shout came from one of the men in a group the man had pointed at. This new man pushed his way to his feet, slamming into the gut of one of my men. The move caught my man unprepared, and before he could recover, this pirate – who I assumed was Lartel – had pulled a dagger from the man's belt and driven it into the man's gut. "Kill them all!" He called out as he pulled the weapon free of the flesh it had been embedded in.
At his shout, dozens of other pirates stood, rushing the closest of my men while from behind various buildings, those who'd seemingly run into the forest as my fleet had reached the docks emerged, seeking to take advantage of the chaos. Turning to the true Lartel, I couldn't help but smile even as my blade slid through the man who'd attempted to deceive me.
A gurgled shout came from the pirate as he fell dead to the ground, but I paid it no heed, focusing on Lartel as he charged toward me, dagger in one hand, cutlass in another. I moved to engage him, my blood pumping in delight.
A giant black shadow rushed past me, surging through the air. As Ymir crashed into two of the pirates at Lartel's side, the port commander faltered; fear flashed in his eyes at seeing an enraged direwolf and teeth longer than my hand sink into another man's flesh like a hot knife through butter. Before he could recover, I was upon him, Red Rain slicing through one arm while my shield slammed into his chest.
The dagger-holding hand fell to the ground as he stumbled back, and before he could counter, a grunt came from him. For the first time in over a moon, Red Rain was tasting blood in combat once more. The pirate's trap had failed, and Lartel and those with him who'd attempted to spring it were meeting death all over the beach, as were many of the others as my men took no chances with those still kneeling.
This incident would be over in a few moments, but at least I now had a prelude for the battles to come on the Shrouded Isle, and blood had been shed at the first port to fall under my banner.
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A/N: I know that some people are unhappy with the pacing of this arc, and that was taken onboard during the writing of this chapter and those to come. However, those who support the chapter and those active on the story's server supported the path and pacing in the majority, and I am following their approval.
The current run in the Stepstones will end after Bloodstone, but until then we're going to see Cam's adventures in the Steps and much of what that entails.
A/N (2): Search for Of Lightning And Blood on this site within the Elder Scrolls series to see Mand's story.
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This story is cross-posted on Questionable Questing, Archive of our Own and Royal Road.
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Whether you join the discord or support my writing, or simply wish to keep reading it here, I hope you enjoy it and suggestions, valid criticisms, and ideas are always welcome.