Coming of the Red Anchor
Volleyed and Thundered
Stoneyport
Alrik sat by the docks, idly watching as a couple of fishermen unloaded a dozen crates of fish and crabs from their small trawler. It was a quiet day in the town. Most of the men folk and a few women had gone off to war under the banner of House Britanican, manning the ships or being used as foot soldiers. The house paid well and the lord and those running the military trained them hard but fairly. Many were quite happy to do a stint in the military when the call came up, the provided gear and pay was enough for most. He was a sailor though, on shore leave from the recently returned ships from Casterly Rock carrying wounded and gold home.
It had been a quick and easy trip with no storms and so they had made good time which helped with healing the wounded men. They had all gone to the red cross building he'd heard some call a hospital. Most just called it The Healer's Den. It was the place which was overseen by that ex-maester Qyburn along with Maester Barneby and some fella called Doctor Heartbright. They looked after the sick and injured from miles around, assuming they could be brought to the building. Most of those brought back home would live now and only a few would die. From the tales told the healing arts had changed much over the decade or so of rule House Britanican had been here. Alcohol and boiled water was used for cleaning and new medicines had been created from herbs and other plants from as far away as Lys and Bravos. Though rumours suggested plans for a trip to Valyria at some point, delayed by the war assuming the rumours were true.
Just as he was about to give up his restful break for the day and head to the nearest tavern something surprised him. From deeper within the bay, from the northern most end, came three large vessels, one of which was very large. It was almost a castle on water it was so large. He had never seen anything like them before. Two were identical; about 140 feet long and possessing three masts along with a load of square holes with flaps shut in a single line between the main deck and what he guessed was the cargo hold. The largest ship though was well over 200 foot, had three masts as well but possessed three rows of those square flaps. All three were painted a black or navy blue and yellowy gold colour with their sails all having a red anchor sigil emblazoned upon them.
A cold shiver went down his spine at seeing these monstrous ships and it wasn't due to the typical northern weather. These ships would rule the waves and destroy any who'd challenge them he suspected. He also would wager those square flaps were gun ports for those boom makers the upper ranks of the navy called cannons. It made him wonder why he hadn't seen any of these ships before and why now they appeared. He then noticed a number of row boats coming into the harbour and realised the town would soon know why.
xxxxx
Admiral Gardner was stressed. Gaining crews for the three new ships was a challenge but not too difficult. With the newly returned soldiers and ships he was able to co-opt those crews to man Victory, Dauntless and Constitution while still leaving enough to man the remaining galleys and long boats to form a fleet of fifteen galleys, ten longships and five carracks. Thirty in all plus the three new vessels. He had also recruited any volunteers he could from the town including a number of fishermen and traders to act as crew while others manned the guns or other things. Aside from that he had Lady Warrington and the garrison at Stonefort on alert and ready to bring troops down to assist the town should they fail, along with ravens and a radio operator to signal Winterfell and other castles for aid. In all it was a strong plan with what they had; which was an undermanned and under strength navy, though one more strongly built and better equipped than the one the Ironborn possessed. He hoped it was enough for they would meet the enemy in Blazewater Bay.
Victarion
The plan was solid though he felt uneasy. The Drowned God had made sure that the weather was fair and easy for sailing as they sailed in their longships north towards Stoneyport and those northern bastards who had destroyed so much of the Ironborn's supremacy at sea during the rebellion. Still, something niggled at the back of his mind that something was wrong and he was experienced enough to know it was likely true somehow, especially when dealing with these newcomers. They had destroyed two assaults by his brother Euron and his nephew Maron with contemptuous ease with no survivors making it back alive.
There was nothing to fear of course. The majority of the Britanican fleet was by Casterly Rock and there was no way they could know that Victarion was sailing north to sack reave and conquer The North. The Starks would pay, as would these pretenders, for what they did during the rebellion. He hoped Asha wouldn't suffer for this, though if she was a true Ironborn she would use the chaos to flee and return to her people. If not, she deserved to die as a pathetic greenlander.
Once he has razed Stoneyport he would then take some of the Iron Fleet to Moat Cailin while other forces seized Deepwood Motte and Bear Island. With them secured, the Ironborn would raid and pillage the coastline and then move inwards towards Winterfell before seizing that and forcing the North to bend to Ironborn rule as the Riverlands once had under the Hoare kings. Once again the Ironborn would be respected and feared and the North would finally pay by serving the Iron Islands on their knees as the barbarians they were. That was the plan he and his brother had devised and there was no reason it wouldn't work.
He noted now that they were just passing Cape Kraken and entering Blazewater Bay. There was clear sky with a few clouds and the wind had changed to a northerly breeze which began slowing them down. It was then that there was a shout from the mast above and his man in the crows nest called down to him about ships on the horizon. He pondered it, there couldn't be many, perhaps a convoy of supply ships? "What numbers?" he shouted up to the man.
"'round thirty Lord Cap'n!" he replied. 'Good, that was good' Victarion thought gleefully. 'Thirty ships, I can easily take them and it would wet the appetite for the men and get them ready for the main course. Should be an easy victory.'
"Ready for a fight men. Let's take these ships and let them feel Ironborn steel. For what is dead may never die."
"For what is dead may never die" his crew echoed before readying the large longship for combat, the same being done across the fleet.
Barely anytime later and he was wearing heavy grey chain mail over boiled black leather. On top of that was his heavy plate armour while on his hands he had padded gloves underneath his iron gauntlets of lobstered steel plate. In his right hand was his favoured steel axe while at his hip was a longsword. Standing proudly he looked forward to see the opposing fleet for himself and that was when that part of his mind which had been worried reared its head like an angry kraken.
Charging ahead of the motley fleet of galleys, longships and carracks were three enormous vessels far larger than anything he had ever seen before. He looked at the design critically and found them to be super sized carracks though slightly different in shape with three masts and very tall sides. If it wasn't for their position at the point of the enemy fleet he would think them some fanciful new design of cargo ships for bulk transport for there seemed to be no catapults or ballista or indeed any sign of any weapons at all. Their position however belayed their intent, they were warships of some sort, taking point to charge at the enemy. Clearly they were armed but those weapons were not easily viewable.
"You see any ballista or catapults on them?" he called up to the crows nest where Longwater Pyke stood, pondering what their plan was. He had already issued orders for the fleet to break apart and engage the enemy with overwhelming force. Hopefully they could seize some galleys and take their longships back.
"Nay cap'n. Dunnae see a thing. Just a big tall wooden ship. Must be a cargo ship" his chief spotter called down.
"Perhaps they plan to board and are using them as troop transports" suggested Nute, his most loyal crewman.
"Let me at 'em sir, we'll show 'em how to truly fight" Burton Humble said eagerly to his captain.
"If they want to fight they can. We'll show 'em how ironborn fight at sea and prove why we're the best in the world!" Victarion answered his men. "Arm yourselves, and prepare to board!"
A number of ships broke away from his fleet and surged ahead to attack other portions of the approaching northern fleet. He watched as they passed one of the large ships and he at that point noticed that they were not in parallel to each other but in fact practically stem to stern, making sure that each side was clear of allied ships. Just as the point when the bulk of the squadron was beside said ship the world seemed to rip apart. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! Within seconds a series of sounds echoed loudly and deafened some nearby as the half dozen ships that had begun to pass one of the two smaller large ships erupted in an explosion of wood as numerous large holes were torn through the longships sending men screaming into the water or crying out from the splinters and chunks of wood which impaled them.
He stumbled back in shock at the devastation wrought upon that half squadron of ships. His mouth opening and closing silently at the destruction, wanting to issue orders but still in shock from the destruction of the small squadron. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! The noises echoed again and he turned to see another dozen ship get torn apart by the booming sounds coming from the second small large ship. More men screaming and ships sinking amidst debris flying about.
What drew his eye and made him panic further though was that the largest ship was now pulling up beside his own on the starboard side. It towered above him and he could see numerous ports in the side of the ship lift open with metal tubes pointing out from them. Fearing what they could do he quickly barked out commands. "Full ahead you curs, then take me half a head to port!" Turning to shout over to the nearest ship he shouted more orders. "Scatter for the drowned god's sake! Take them from the rear or front, swarm them. Attack!" He yelled loudly to all nearby ships and soon the fleet was moving but it was not enough for some. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! He turned to look behind his ship and saw four longships just splinter and crack before erupting into a fountain of wood, sail and bodies, debris going everywhere. Looking to starboard he saw that on the starboard side of the large vessel half a dozen additional longships had been destroyed or devastated by a similar attack on that side as it fired both ways at the same time with its powerful unknown weapons.
"Signal the fleet to attack! We must sink or capture these floating castles, by any means" he commanded as they hoisted flags to signal the fleet now they were out of shouting range.
The Iron Fleet scattered about as ships split apart and went this way and that, trying to confuse the crews of the three larger vessels. While this went on the three ships turned and began moving about firing at targets of opportunity while also trying to avoid hitting each other with their firing arcs. This went on for over an hour as the game of cat and mouse continued, with these ships pursuing him and his fleet. Turning the longship about and facing north once more he saw that the rest of the Northern fleet had begun to advance as well and was engaging isolated ships. Looking around he saw numerous wrecks from his defeated longships, most now beginning to sink beneath the waves completely while the odd section or a few planks floated on the surface, occasionally a man would be spotting clinging on to the floating debris for dear life.
Turning around on the spot to search the combat behind him for targets he found the largest ship of the enemy heading straight towards a mostly crippled but still limping ship from Blacktyde. He only knew that due to the sigil which hung limply from the ship's mast. Said mast of the longship was also angled awkwardly and he could see a few holes in the sides above the waterline from where the enemy weapons had clipped the vessel. Noticing the rear of the largest ship he saw windows and the interior of a well furnished cabin. Just below that though was a name, the ship's name: Victory.
It was almost a mockery of his own, Iron Victory, and yet he knew from this battle that it was likely true. His ships were more manoeuvrable but the enemy had a ranged weapon of great power that could make that mostly redundant. The large ships were also remarkably fast for vessels their size, almost like the Storm God fed wind to their sails. BOOM! BOOM! Two bangs came from Victory and he saw a splash of water near the Blacktyde vessel followed by an eruption of wood as something smashed into the side of the longship. He saw the mast wobble before collapsing down across the deck and dropping into the water. And still Victory continued ahead. It was then that he twigged that Victory must have two forward mounted weapons, 'a good idea if pursuing an enemy' he though idly before then wondering if the other two had them as well.
He then stared in both awe and horror as the monstrously large ship simply barged straight into the broken, and slightly sinking, longship and smashed it in two, before both halves then began to rapidly sink beneath the waves. Victarion spotted a handful of men in the water trying desperately to cling on to wreckage that still floated but he could do nothing for them as he was too far and too preoccupied with surviving. He watched this all from the safety of his ship via his glasseye, something he had seized from a travelling merchant ship many years ago. As he looked through his glasseye he noticed that the lower part of the hull of Victoryseemed to be coated in some metal plate, almost like armour atop the wooden hull though it was a copper colour and bore no resemblance to steel. If it was copper it could not for use as armour since copper was relatively weak and only when made into bronze was it remotely tough, steel still beat out bronze by some margin though but copper was cheap to acquire though. In short it baffled him as to why copper plates would be covering the hull of the vessel in the first place though he guessed it did provide protect when used against an already splintering ship like Victory had.
Taking this all in he fell into silence. He knew not of what to do. His fleet, the grand Iron Fleet, had been demolished over the course of two hours. His remaining ships, of which he counted some forty odd, were either fighting a last stand against boarders from the northern fleet or running like cravens back south to the Islands. He was not a coward, he would take the enemy Victory and make it his prize before returning home to regroup. He would pay the iron price and he would serve his god and brother. "Stand to you fools, swing us around and we shall board and seize that ship for the glory of the Ironborn. Signal those three ships over there to come assist us in taking it" he commanded while pointing to a nearby trio of ships that were skirting the edge of the fleet engagement and seemingly trying to look loyal without actually fighting against a large opponent. He steadied himself against the side near the helm and nodded to the lad, a boy of no more than six and ten, manning the station and ordered him to steer the Iron Victory towards the enemy ship. "For the Drowned God! For King Balon!"
Gardner
Watching the enemy fleet scatter under fire from the 104 cannons of Victory was something that gave him great pleasure and pride. The ship and its cousins, the 42 gun ships Constitution and Dauntless, were performing well and had taken little damage from the small longships of the Ironborn. Indeed since the longships had no offensive ability besides ramming it meant that all three hadn't taken any damage during the entire battle. Any ship that tried was quickly blown out of the water thanks to a full broadside of guns and the speed advantage given due to the large sails and the copper bottomed hulls, an old trick the Royal Navy had used in the 19th century to great affect. One French admiral was rumoured to have said during an engagement off the coast of Africa or in the Caribbean that it was like the devil was in their sails. Indeed they were much faster than any ship their size ought to be thanks to the copper plating. It also allowed for some protection when ramming the broken remains of Ironborn longships though he did try to keep it to a minimum, no reason to unduly risk the ship.
The Ironborn had mostly scattered by now with only forty or so ships still remaining of the one hundred and twenty that had come north. Most were retreating south by this point though as he watched from the after quarter deck near the helm Gardner spotted a squadron of four ships begin charging towards Victory. He could tell from this distance that each ship appeared slightly battered but still largely intact and in fact undamaged from battle. 'They likely kept to the edge of the combat zone to spot any target of opportunity' Gardner realised. 'Well if they want to go down fighting who are we to deny them?' Turning to his chief aid he spoke quickly to the man.
"Ready the port guns, prepare to broadside. I want them blown out of the water."
"Aye sir" the man said with a small grin before turning to the deck before them and bellowing out orders. "PREPARE TO BROADSIDE! PORT SIDE STAND READY!" He could hear below deck further yelling and the clanking of metal as the fifty guns were reloaded and adjusted in preparation of firing a volley that would devastate any ship.
Letting the longships approach further so as to be completely destroyed by the volley he held as he waited. And waited. "Hold men, wait for it…. Just a little closer. Ready, FIRE ALL!"
"Fire!" came the echo of shouts as officers relayed the orders across the gun decks and top deck before the bangs and booms of the cannons rocked the ship. Watching closely he saw the Ironborn ships try to scatter but they only made for wider targets as the cannon balls sailed through the air and smashed into the sides, masts and other sections of the ships, splintering them and ripping them apart. The cannon fire continued unabated as splashes of water erupted near the Ironborn, coating them in cold sea water, while others plunged holes in the ships, flooding them and tearing them apart.
All four attacking ships broke apart, wood flying and sails falling as masts collapsed and smashed into deck or splashed into the water. Yells or pain or fear echoed across the small ships as men fell into the water. Some of them swam for floating debris to cling on while others struggled to stay afloat and began sinking beneath the waves due to the armour they wore. Gardner watched one man, he wore an intricately designed helmet with a squid or octopus or something on, flail about in the water as he tried to keep above the surface but the man quickly fell below the waves to many gurgles and much spluttering before never being seen again. Others met similar fates, the Ironborn tradition, or ideal, of wearing plate armour or mail while in combat at sea killing more of them than the cannon fire and ship destruction. Gardner shook his head at the stupidity and the waste of life caused due to wearing heavy armour in the belief of superiority and yet when faced with death by drowning flailing about like any man all while struggling to get said mail and plate off.
With the last of the enemy sunk or forced to retreat the northern fleet regrouped before turning and sailing back to port for rest and repair. Warrington would deal with those that make it back, probably through naval bombardment of all ports and keeps along with the destruction of every ship they have. By the time they were done there would be no ships or vessels of any kind which could be used to sail or row and with the Iron Islands being long since depleted of trees due to their own shipbuilding efforts, leaving but a handful of trees scattered around the archipelago of which most were either too young or too old for shipbuilding, the Ironborn would be stranded with no way off the islands without external aid. And who would help those reavers?
So after giving his orders to head back to port he retired to his cabin and radioed their success through to his lord. With that done he turned to ponder the young Targaryen girl who had three dragons, all of which had grown to the size of full grown stags and growing still. He dared not think how big they could get and how to control them. Gardner just hoped the girl would be capable enough though the scientists in their employ were looking at poisons or strong enough missiles or arrows that could bring them down if needed. 'Perhaps reuniting her with the king claimant Jaehaerys would be a good idea?' he pondered. The two together might exert some control over them so as to not risk problems and it would encourage more to bend the knee and surrender without more deaths.
He sighed. Now that he thought about it didn't he have to look at the Wall for something too? Something about a corpse trying to kill its lord commander and said lord commander leading a ranging north of the Wall and not being seen for months. Dammit the North should be an easy job with nothing going on yet something was always occurring and he liked it not one bit.
AN: Hope you enjoyed the sea battle, it was fun to write the destruction of the Ironborn. The cannons used on board Victory, Dauntless and Constitution fire solid iron balls, these cause physical damage from the force of its impact and from the shock wave caused by its speed. There are no fiery explosions since the Ironborn don't have gunpowder and the cannonballs don't explode as they are just solid metal. This is what I believe to be the historically accurate representation of naval combat in terms cannon fire and not the fiery explosions seen movies like Pirates of the Caribbean etc. Also a nod to both events at The Wall and with Danny.