Chapter 6; Begun is the next war
Characters of the Chapter
Daenerys Targaryen, The Mother of Dragons, the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, the Unburnt, the Breaker of Chains, Queen of the of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men of the South, Queen of the South Kingdom of the Twin kingdoms and Protector of the Realm
Isabela Captain of the Siren'sCall II, admiral of the Felicisima armada (self-appointed)
Sten-Adaar Qunari officer
Yara Greyjoy Master of ships on the small council of the south kingdom, commander of the royal navy, Queen of the Iron Islands
Cursive/Bold text is in Qunlat
Sten-Adaar. Sten of the guns. That was his name, his rank, his role in the gun, all at the same time. He stood within the fort the Qunari had assembled on this foreign shore. Two circles, one inside the other. The outer ring a wall of raised dirt, the edges too steep to climb to the top from the outside. A palisade of wood would have been added to this under normal circumstances, but in this case that had been deemed unwise. This had been replaced with trench dug to the top of the wall, with openings at regular intervals for cannons. The only wooden structures permitted in the open were the ladders allowing access to the top from the inner side and the gate. The inner circle was also an earthen mound with a flat top, built a little higher than the outer wall so guns stationed at the top could fire on enemies outside as well. On the opposite side from the outer gate the inner gate led to the forts main portion, dug underground.
This was a first phase fort of the Qunari, a thing assembled in haste when the Qunari first established themselves or when there was no time for anything else. The second phase would see dirt replaced by burnt bricks and mortar, the gate reinforced with heavy black iron. At that time towers housing more cannons would be built at regular intervals along the inner and outer circles. Should it be decided later that a permanent fort was required, stone would replace tile. Such was the way every Qunari fortress was built, through orderly, precise methods and consistent design no matter where you went in the Qunari lands. Not like the castles of the bas, often built little by little by succeeding generations, as varied as they were inconsistent in their performance as defensive structures.
There were myriad guns within the fort already, brought there by ships, as well as plentiful gaatlok and ammunition for all of them. Most were the typical heavy pieces of the Qunari military, the kind capable of ripping through the hull of a ship, tearing down castle walls or cutting through ranks of enemy troops like a scythe through wheat. But other Sten-Adaar had charge of those. He instead had command of two batteries of a new type of guns, thought by his superiors in the Qun to be ideally suited to taking down the Ataashi commanded by the Bas Queen.
By comparison to the larger Qunari cannons they were small, delicate looking things, the cannon balls they were meant to fire about the size of a typical human's fist. Hopefully when propelled by gaatlock they could still punch through an Ataashi's hide. The rear of the guns had eight cylinders around a central axis. Each cylinder was now being loaded with a silk bag containing gaatlock, a cannonball and some wadding to hold it all in place. Whereas a normal cannon had to be reloaded after each firing, with these guns the cylinders could be rotated around the axis to put a fresh cylinder in place of the one that just had its contents discharged, giving the gun eight shots before the cannon would need reloading. An able crew could fire around nine shots every minute, an unprecedented rate of fire compared to any previous generation of cannons. Certainly better than any siege contraption of the Bas. All of these guns were mounted on swivels to better track the movements of a flying Ataashi. Another new innovation was in their flintlock triggers, which also improved the rate of fire while making the guns less vulnerable to bad weather conditions.
In short, an example of the ingenuity and craftmanship of the Qun if ever there was one.
"Think the Ataashi will show today?" One of his crew asked as he worked on the cannon closest to him.
"There is a strong possibility. The Bas armies have drawn near and we are quite easy for them to find. They will seek to test their greatest weapon on us sooner or later. Though I cannot with certainty say our fort will be the one to be tested. Predicting such is not my role. But if it shows, we will greet it with a storm of lead." He said.
Both his batteries had eight guns, giving him sixteen in total, scattered on the outer and inner circles of the fort. The first battery occupied the inner circle, the second the outer one. With the cannons spread out like that the hope was that the dragon would not be able to take out all of them at once. As their fort had been built on the coast of Westeros, out on the water a trio of dreadnoughts stood watch, with even more repeater cannons mounted on their upper decks. As storm of lead indeed.
"Aye, that we shall." The crewman said, suppressed shudder and returned his attention to the cannon.
"Are you fearful to face the creature? Even with all this firepower at our side?" The Sten-Adaar asked.
"No, of course not. The victory lies in the Qun. Through discipline and order we shall prevail over all the Bas set against us, even such a beast." The crewman said, doing his best to make the rehearsed lines seem convincing.
"Victory indeed lies in the Qun. But I would have you speak truthfully. I think we have worked together long enough to be honest about such matters. There is no shame in such feelings and I shan't report them to anyone of superior rank." The Sten-Adaar said.
The crewman was quiet for a moment. "…One hears terrifying stories of the power of that beast. Of vast armies and fleets burned to ash by it. There are only some hundreds of us in this fortress at the moment. Our guns are potent, and we have trained well in their use, but will that be enough? The way I hear it, the Orlesian bas also thought they had an answer to the power of the Ataashi, but their army was burned and shattered."
The crewman shook his head. "Foul are the days when basra are granted such powerful means. Such weapons should only exist under the ordered authority of the Qun, if they were permitted at all."
"As I hear it the Orlesian bas also found a way to hurt the Ataashi. And I hear the bas of these lands managed to bring down a sibling of this beast many years ago. This proves the Ataashi of these lands are strong, but not invincible. If these people with their primitive weapons managed it, we ought to have no trouble. Our chances are better than that of any that came before us. And we need to manage this feat only once. After that no other Ataashi will trouble our forces." The Sten- Adaar countered.
"Then I hope you are right in your confidence, not I in my concern." The crewman said.
"I hope it as well. But even so we must accept that there will be death. A creature like this will make it almost inevitable. But if we die we die having lived by the Qun. So long as that is true we need not fear our end." The Sten-Adaar said.
The crewman nodded at that, his spirit reinforced by those words, and returned to work.
With the cannons now loaded there was little to do except to wait and see if the Dragon wanted to make an appearance. The gun crews lay around their cannons, many of them falling asleep after hours and hours of nothing happening. The Sten-Adaar did not mind this as long as those crews would do their duty at optimal efficiency once called upon to do it. Sleep was something soldiers at war almost never got enough of, so his crews availing themselves to more was only a good thing. He did require one man in per each cannon to stay awake so they could quickly wake their fellows and act as lookouts in the meantime. He himself did not sleep, his eyes instead continuously scanning the skies for any sign of the dragon.
It was well past midday and he had almost convinced himself that today would pass as quietly as the ones before. But as fate would have it that was then things started happening. He noticed a spot moving across the sky. First he took it for a bird, then realized that even at a distance it was far too large to pass as one.
"Alarm! Ataashi approaching! UP! UP! Ataashi approaching!" He bellowed at once. His crews scrambled to their cannons waking those that were asleep. He meanwhile took the horn hanging from his belt, and blew a single long note. After several seconds a second horn sounded from one of the dreadnoughts in acknowledgement of his alert.
The shape of the dragon had reached the sun. It was hard to see against the glare, but the dragon seemed to make a turn toward them, diving toward the fort.
"Clever, using the sun for cover like that. Well, hopefully group tactics and volley fire will negate that advantage." He thought. The Dragon Queen was likely also hoping to approach at an angle cannons would have difficulty aiming at her, but if so she was in for a disappointment.
"Battery one, commence tracking! Battery two, stand by! Rotation to three hundred degrees! Elevation eighty! With haste! Ready to fire on command!" He shouted, and the eight of his guns turned to point in the direction he had indicated, the cannon barrels pointed almost straight upwards to the sky. The second group would be on standby, to begin attacking the dragon when the first battery had fired all eight of its volleys. That way the break in fire would be as small as possible.
"First battery, fire!" He shouted, and eight cannons spoke as one, sending a cloud of metal balls in the Dragon's direction. The repeater cannons on the dreadnoughts added their firepower seconds later. But no hits were scored and the dragon continued its descent toward the fortress, the silver haired rider on its back now clearly visible. The crews rotated the next set of cylinders in place, making their weapons ready to fire again.
"Fire!" He shouted again. No hits. As the cannons were being readied for a third firing the crews began to get frantic, their target filling the sky above them. But their duty to the Qun was clear, and none fled their posts.
By the time the third set of shots sounded the beast was already opening its maw, a golden glow climbing out of its throat. But as their guns fired again there was a sudden spray of detached scales and red mist. It was enough to make the dragon screech and level out of its dive prematurely. The blast of flame that was meant to hit the center of the fortress instead passed overhead and impacted the outer wall. Two of his guns were still caught in it, along with several of the heavier cannons, all reduced to molten slag heaps in an instant. Burning bodies tumbled down to the ground, as did a significant portion of the outer wall, blasted open by the impact of flame. Then the dragon passed over the fort, almost close enough to touch, the wind caused by its wings making several of the crewmen stumble.
"Rotation to one hundred twenty! Elevation down to ten!" He shouted, and the cannons turned around, their barrels lowering to almost level with the ground. But the cannons still had to be reloaded. In that time the dragon adopted a new strategy, flying low and fast, circling around the fortress. The heavier cannons began firing at the dragon, but the creature moved so fast that by the time the big guns guns could be discharged it had already passed them by. Another blast of fire struck the wall, destroying several more heavy guns and two more of his weapons. That was half of the second battery already gone. This was going downhill fast. Worse, the Sten-Adaar realized the Queen was directing her beast to go after the dreadnoughts. Damn.
"Rotation to one hundred and thirty! Fire!" Shouted he, and the fourth volley was fired, to no avail.
"Second battery, commence tracking!" He shouted his next command, deciding that additional firepower was urgently needed. "Rotation to one hundred and fifty. Fire!" Came the fifth volley, this time by every cannon in his command.
But again, nothing. Dammit! The dragon completed its circle around the fortress, reaching the shore.
"Rotation to one hundred and eighty! Fire at will!" He shouted. The cannons in his command began firing as fast as they were able. As the dragon was now heading straight away from the fort, shots were landing much closer, as was made evident by the small geysers erupting in the water. Maybe now a proper hit could be landed. Particularly as the dragon was now in a crossfire between his guns and those of the dreadnoughts. And when he saw the gun ports of the dreadnoughts open a smile grew on his lips. The dragon was flying low, well within the firing envelope of the hull cannons. And when those cannons fired the volley would be so intense there would be no chance for the dragon to survive.
They had it…
Unfortunately the Queen seemed to have realized the danger when the hull cannons came into view, as she suddenly turned into a sharp ascent, followed by an immediate hard turn to the left. It was enough to get the bulk of the dragon out of the line of fire just in time.
The Sten-Adaar thought the dragon might turn around to burn the dreadnought. But the Queen had apparently lost her nerve, choosing to fly away with her creature. The second battery fired a few more shots at it, but then they too were out of rounds.
The Sten-Adaar gave a relieved sigh, slumping on the ground. The whole ordeal had lasted for only a few minutes at best, but it felt like hours had passed. And in those few minutes several casualties had been sustained, a sizeable hole blasted in their defenses and a dreadnought nearly lost.
"Too close." He thought. It had proven unexpectedly hard to hit the dragon. Who would have figured that something so big could move so quickly? But at least that one hit had proven their weapons could hurt the thing, if they managed to make it connect. They were on the right track with their repeater cannons, of that he was certain. But they would need greater numbers to create more intense volleys, to increase the odds of something hitting. And they needed to improve their tactics in their use, practice on firing on a moving target. Additional fire drills could take care of that. His crew would grumble at that, but that was still better than seeing them reduced to ash because they failed to stop the monster.
The damage done to their defenses was another problem that needed to be taken into consideration. Patching up the outer wall would take time and with Bas troops close by they could attack before repairs were complete and exploit the opening. A plan needed to be formulated in case that scenario came into play.
"I must go speak with our commander. All remaining cannons are to be loaded in the meantime and be ready to use them in case the Ataashi returns or enemy troops show up. I'll have food and water sent to the crews." He told the crewman he had been speaking to earlier.
"And pass on the word: The crews of the repeater cannons have today performed their duties admirably considering the challenge we faced. Their actions have been in accordance with the demands of the Qun. As their superior I congratulate them." He added. Always a good idea to encourage your troops when they performed well. Helpful to morale.
Daenerys was still flying with Drogon, though she intended to land as soon as that was safe to do. The wound her dragon had sustained ought to be examined at once. And the condition of the dragon saddle needed to be inspected as well. She had felt something come loose during the fight. Thank goodness it had stayed on. It was a fairly heavy contraption and considering it was strapped to her if it had fallen it would have dragged her with it, sending her plummeting to her death. As a precaution the straps keeping her in the saddle had been opened now.
"Too close." She thought. Aside from that one hit there had been far too many near misses in that fight to her liking. She had been surprised by how quickly those cannons had been able to fire and by how well they had been able to follow Drogon's movements. The Orlesians had had bolt throwers that could fire at unusual speed, but event they had been unable to achieve this kind of rate of fire, or this precision. Only tight maneuvers and luck had kept Drogon from being shot down. No way was she willing to try that again unless the need was especially dire.
Finally she decided she was far enough away from the Qunari fort and directed him to a gentle descent towards the northern plains. When her Dragon touched down she felt him suddenly stumble to the right, giving a pained yelp. The frown of worry on her face grew even deeper at that. There was apparently even more wrong than she had thought.
She dismounted and went to take a closer look at his injuries. First she went to his left side, seeing the wound left to his flank. It was enough to make her gasp. It was not particularly wide or deep, but it was long, running from the base of his neck to the beginning of his tail. Clearly Qunari cannons could do great harm to him despite the toughness of a dragon's hide.
This wound needed treatment. Dragons could survive surprisingly severe injuries, but this one looked like it would require more, particularly as for all she knew there might be need of him in again in the near future. Furthermore while she was not certain if dragons could get sick from an infected wound, it was better not to take that risk. She would need to have a conversation with the mage healers at camp to have this injury attended to. The mage healers were afraid to come near Drogon, but surely if she was there she could keep them safe long enough for them to do their work. She could convince them. She would have to, for surely there was no one else able to provide timely help in this matter.
There was still the injury that had made Drogon stumble on landing, so she walked around Drogon to see what had happened. What she found was a bad looking puncture wound in his right leg. It looked to be much more serious than the wound on his side. It had probably been caused by one of the smaller guns during that last bit of maneuvering escaping the dreadnoughts shooting. The leg still looked to carry weight, so bone was likely not broken, but it did not escape her notice how much more weight he was putting on his other limbs.
Drogon turned to look at her with a pained expression. Overcome by a feeling of sadness she walked to him, petting his head and resting her forehead on his snout.
"Damn these people. Orlesians, Qunari, Tevinters… callous bastards each and every one." She whispered bitterly. "I brought back a great wonder to this world after it had been lost for centuries. And what do the people of the world want to do in response? They want to murder your species all over again so they can rule, and they are getting far too clever in figuring out how to do it. All they see in you is a monster they need to destroy, because they can't control you. None of them can appreciate you for what you truly are."
"And I am no better. Where they have sought to end you I have exploited you. You and your brothers, you've always been my sword, grasped at the first sign of trouble. I have brought you to war over and over and I've watched you die. I shouldn't make you do this, yet I have no choice. How else to stand against such powers? I'd have already failed if not for you. I stop riding you to battle and I lose everything."
"It's so wrong that I need you. What stake have you in human conflicts? You should be free to fly where you will, free from the burdens of war. I'm so sorry, my child. I brought you to harm. It was my doing. Please forgive me."
Somehow though she got the sense Drogon did not blame her for his injuries, or for her taking him to war. She had chosen to wield him thusly and he had chosen to allow it. Never would there be hatred between them for this.
Isabela walked into Yara's rooms back on the Iron Islands. They had only recently gotten back here after their voyage from the other side of Westeros and had set to work at once in preparing to the next war. Most fleets of Westeros were here with them, though some had been left to guard against Qunari incursions from the Stepstones. In addition to the two of them only a single servant was present, tending to the flames of the fireplace. "You sent for me?" Isabela asked. "I'm guessing this is business." She added with a slight disappointment in her voice on noting the maps and scrolls Yara was focused on.
"I did, and yes it is, unfortunately. I have a job offer for you. To be paid for as we have agreed." Yara said.
"There has been word from King in the North. He's gone to Bear Island to rescue the ruling Lady of those parts. He has apparently managed to contact her and convince her to leave, but now he needs additional ships to evacuate her and her people." She explained.
"So you wish to send me and my ship to help with that?" Isabela said.
"Yes, along with another ship called the Shadow. Bear Island is in the middle of Qunari territory, so this calls for stealth. You've said you have done your share of smuggling runs during you time, so I thought you'd be a perfect fit for this."
"Probably am too. What of this other ship?" Isabela said.
"Well, her captain has a reputation for being experienced in surprise nighttime raids on coastal settlements. Figured that was close enough to be able to do this job." Yara said.
"Your meeting point is here, on the eastern side of the island." She said, pointing to an area on one of her maps. "It's a rough coastline but I think you should be able to manage it. The ship that brought the King is also holding position there to help with the evacuation."
"So how many people are we talking about here?" Isabela asked.
"About a hundred and fifty or so. Plus the dozen the King brought with him. Between three ships you're likely to get a little crowded, but you should still be able to get then into the mainland in a single pass."
"Good. That'll cut down on the risk." Isabela said. "Which is significant, mind you. If I hadn't already agreed to help you… very well, I'm in."
Yara smiled. "Splendid. Once that job's done I have more work for you."
"Oh?" Isabela said.
Yara nodded. "The Twin Kingdoms are going to be taking the fight to the Qunari soon. I'm to start hitting their forces at sea. While we take on their dreadnoughts I'd like you to start attacking the smaller ships of the oxmen. Cargo vessels and the like. Troop transports if you're up to it. I'm sending several dozen other ships out to do the same. Every oxman soldier and crate of cargo that doesn't reach its intended target is going to make it easier for us to win this war. Job details are pretty simple: Take out the ships, kill the crews and passengers. Bring back as many useful supplies as you can, send the rest to the bottom of the sea along with the vessels that carried them. Should be right up your alley and you'll get to take you pick of any valuables you find in addition to your usual payments."
"Can do. I'll have to think about hitting troop transports though. Qunari are mean fighters. Might make for a fun fight, but if we're not careful we might end up biting off more than we can chew." Isabela said.
"Speaking of which, be very careful when taking on the Qunari. Don't underestimate them." She added, sounding a bit worried.
"I don't intend to. I'll take on lone ships and small groups if I can to start with. Hopefully that will even the odds. And I'll leave a good sized portion of ships to guard the Iron Islands, so if this attack goes belly up we'll still have ships to work with." Yara assured. "Say, I understand the raiders were originally formed to fight the Qunari. Would you happen to have any advice on how to fight them better?"
"Not too much from personal experience. But the lessons learned from our battles with them have been passed from captain to captain in case we ever have to fight them again." Isabela said.
"They have far better ships than ours, so you'll need greater numbers. Don't engage them unless you outnumber them at least five to one. And in a straight up fight expect to lose at least two or three ships for every dreadnought. They have cannons, so don't get dragged into a prolonged exchange of fire with them. You will lose that every time. Get close to them and board them. You'll still be in for a rough fight, but at least them you'll have a fighting chance." She then detailed.
Yara sighed. "Do these fuckers have any weaknesses at all to them?"
"A few. The sheer size of their dreadnoughts makes them clumsier than our ships, use that. And there is little variety in their fleet. They don't really bother to build warships other that dreadnaughts, which means they won't be able to adapt all that well if you can manage to force them out of their comfort zone. Try to take them on close to dry land, where they will have difficulty maneuvering and you'll have spots of cover to get close without giving them a lot of opportunities to fire on you. And whenever possible try to outthink them rather than taking them head on. Burn their ships while they're anchored for the night, lure them into the rocks, every dirty trick you can think of." Isabela replied.
"So I either I must be smarter than they are, or I must overwhelm them through sheer weight of numbers, win through attrition?" Yara asked.
"That's what it tends to come down with them. On average their troops are better than ours. But their biggest disadvantage is that they've never had the same numbers as us humans. Cause heavy losses on them and they'll have to put their invasion plans on hold." Isabela said.
"Especially as they have other wars to fight that tie up reinforcements." Yara said with a nod.
"Good. Thanks. That's sound advice, and it will be put to good use. Then there is only one more thing I'd like you to do while you're out there. Seeing as they've fought them before, should you come across any of your raider friends we could always use more allied ships. I'll offer them the same kind of pardons as I gave you and your crew." She said.
Isabela nodded. "Won't be too many of us where Qunari are known to operate. Plus more than a few of them might be a little upset with me right now since I fought them during this war with Orlais. But I'll see what I can do."
"That's all I ask." Yara said with a smile. "We will be leaving as soon as the fleets have been resupplied. Shouldn't take long now. Seeing as we're going the same way you're welcome to travel with the fleet until we get closer to Bear Island.
"Ooh. A royal escort? Sounds fancy." Isablela said. "Well, I'll go tell my crew the news."
"And later, when you're not so busy… I'll come find you again." She added with a wink, then turned around and marched from the room.
With his work on the fireplace now finished, the servant left the room as well. He spent some time on other tasks in the castle. When he was certain none would note his absence later on he headed to the beach. There he came upon a dilapidated hut with a sunken roof. He went inside, finding a pair of small cages, and from inside a pile of rotting hay he took out a wooden box. He opened the box with a key he had, taking out a piece of paper, quill and ink. He sat down in a corner, beginning to write a message.
It had been a long road to get to where he was now. Years and years after he had been sent here, long before there had been any plans for an invasion. Years spent working as a menial in the castle, allaying suspicions, to get the locals to be used to his presence, to ignore him.
Now that long time spent preparing was finally about to pay off. As he had worked he had seen the planned routes of the fleets and even where this pirate had been sent. Information about the plans the Queen of the Iron Islands was of considerable value. Properly acted upon it would go a long way to winning this war for the Qun, crippling the enemy naval forces and leaving the Qunari supreme on these waters. And if they managed to take care of the King in the North and the pest known as Lyanna Mormont, all the better.
His message written, he turned to the cages, picking out a carrier pigeon from one. People in Westeros used trained ravens to carry messages, as did most nations in Thedas. But Qunari had always preferred carried pigeons. That unique quirk was useful now, since none suspected his true purposes for having them. His cover story was that he was raising them for food. So far none had questioned the explanation. So long as they did not find his writing materials there was little danger of being discovered.
Once he had placed the message in a container attached to the pigeon's foot he went outside and released it to the air. The bird took off towards Bear Island, carrying his warning with it.