Note: This chapter is the POV of Ormond Yronwood, not Ormund Baratheon. These two characters will be featured in chapters in the future, so please note the spelling of their names.
Ch. 4
259 AC
Ormond
The entire royal fleet was split into three. The first, assigned to be the vanguard of the vanguard. Two thousand men, consisting mostly of infantry, were ordered to take control of the Bloodstone port for the main host to land safely. The second contained the bulk of the force, massive ships carrying thousands of horses and knights, led by the Sea Lord and the white bull. The third, the supply ships, which carried the majority of the ration and supplies, lagged behind the rest.
The old and decorated war galley, Vermithor, rode the treacherous waves well enough. But the nauseousness in his head is telling him otherwise. Barley, one of Maegor's man-at-arms, told him to get some fresh air up on the deck. It didn't help. And by the looks of it, many of her passengers were suffering the same fate.
The Crownland army, five thousand strong, marched onto the royal fleet a week ago, headed for the nearest island of Stepstones. Ormond has never seen so many armed men in one place. Though "armed" was quite a generous term, most were smallfolk summoned to war, equipped with poor weapons and even poorer armor, many of them boys younger than him.
Hopefully, I get knighted. Ormond was still puzzled by his father's decision to squire him under Prince Maegor. " A good lord is worldly, and should know his place among his princes as well as his subjects." He had told Ormond. But why Maegor?
He had learned very little under the Prince's wing, most came from Captain of the guards, Ser Harlan Whimpers, who got his right eye smashed in by a Warhammer. He now bled a red tear whenever his temper rose. A fearsome champion, He would always wear an open faced helm in melees, pissing the pants of young squires and green hedge knights.
He was kind enough to Ormond though, taught him how to use a sword, how to clean his armor, how to tie his vambraces comfortably onto his arms…
He still missed home. The Dornish sun, the Dornish songs, the Dornish spices. And now he's nearly a man grown going to war, without saying his farewells to his parents, siblings, or cousins.
What if I die without seeing Dorne again?
A sudden shake of the deck sent him to another spire of pain.
" Young lord!" A voice called to him.
Ormond turned his head.
Barley was a man of middling age. He had light blonde hair with some white mixed within. His face was wrinkled from harsh sunburns. He was also missing several teeth on the right side of his mouth, making his face look slightly slanted. The chainmail and tunic he wore wrapped around his skinny frame, making him appear a poor warrior. Though Ormond knew that Barley was a veteran of many years serving under the dragon banner, and most men didn't last long.
He walked up to Ormond and padded him on the back, trying to help him with his sickness, though it seemed to have done the opposite. Ormond's body had finally had enough, he ran to the edge of the deck and gave his last supper to the creatures of the sea.
" It's no good ruining rations like that y'know, here have some mead to clear your pipes." Barley chuckled and handed him a heavy, brown waterskin made of goat hide.
" Barley, Have you been in a battle before?" Ormond asked.
The sudden shift of topic seemed to have caught Barley unawares. His once cheerful face was now a sullen statue.
" Sure have, the fourth black dragon rebellion it was. Battle of the… I can't remember the name… somethin' Pass. A lad back then I was… close to your age, me thinks."
He made a short pause, his usual tone gone.
" Whole village of boys went, not many came back. I got lucky, really… m'friend Jack. Brave young boy, saved a lordling, got stabbed in the gut in his place. Couldn't bring him back to his mum, some kind of plague goin' around, had to burn his body… She got some silver for it…" He looked sadly to the blue sky, his eyes slightly teary.
" Well, may his soul find peace with the Seven above." Ormond did not know how to deal with death. All of his family were alive and happy, it's hard to imagine one of them passing, especially in gruesome ways.
He received a letter from his lord father before he departed King's landing, ten thousand Dornish spears raised to march to The Broken Hand.
" Aye. Blessed be the seven above" Barley said. There's an awkward pause between them.
" Uh… Prince Maegor asked for you."
" Right…" Ormond gave the skin back and walked away from the old soldier without looking.
…
The chamber given to Maegor was quite small. It barely held a single bed, a writing desk, and a tiny chair, now there were burly men with armor all fitted inside, cramped together uncomfortably. Ormond had to really squeeze to let himself in.
To Maegor's right was Set Harlan, his menacing frame looked quite hilarious shoved into a tight corner. To Maegor's left, stood Ser Doran Langward of the Kingsguard. A total of Four Kingsguard knights joined the vanguard, only Ser Doran was assigned to Vermithor, by the look on his sour face throughout the voyage so far, he was not very happy about this decision. There were three other men in the chamber he did not know, however.
Maegor seemed to be in a high mood despite the extremely cramped space. "Squire! Thought you'd never join us! Sers, my squire, Ormond of House Yronwood. Ormond, you know Ser Harlan and Ser Doran Langward. This here is Ser Ryam, heir to House Hayford, to his left, Ser Lyonel Cressey of the Silver helms, and last but not least, Ser Hovard Brune of Brownhollow."
Ser Ryam was a young man, not much older than Ormond by his looks. The knighted heir to Hayford castle had a long thin nose and intense, eyes, Ormond could not hold his gaze on him for too long. Hayford men were known to run into misfortunes. Several Lord Hayfords throughout history were beheaded by their kings, yet they swoon to serve all the same. That is the fate of lesser lords, Ormond supposed.
Next to him, Ser Lyonel Cressey Was broad in the shoulders and broader in the waist, he had a poorly hidden burn scar right beneath his left air, pink and fleshy. His gorget was encrusted with seven silver coins. And in his hands, he held the most embroidered helm Ormond had ever seen. It was of silver-make and engraved with all sorts of fine patterns. A grand white plumage sat on top of it.
Ser Hovard, unlike the other knights in the room, dressed in a dull, brown tunic. It was new and clean but made of poor wool. He stood shorter than the rest, shorter than Ormond even. The Brune of Brownhollow were landed knights who resided in the cavernous and barren Crackclaw point. From some city rumors, they were said to be half-wild.
They all grunted in acknowledgement. It's unusual for knighted commanders to acknowledge a squire. Maegor did not seem to mind though. He pointed his finger toward the map of the Stepstones, where the island of Bloodstone is.
Once the seat of the Rogue Prince, Daemon Targaryen, Bloodstone was the largest island of the Stepstones. It lies Farthest Northwest. If Maegor could take it before the rest of the fleet and the Westerosi army arrives, he would be considered a competent general.
" The Fleet led by Vermithor will land on the north bay of Bloodstone, a day away, we will seize control of the pirate port there and wait for the rest of the fleet to join us. The port will provide a great spot for us to use as a vantage point. "
" Reports say that Saan's ships roam the north bay waters. We shouldn't approach them from the north. Instead, we should sail to the west of Bloodstone. The landing will take longer, sure, but we won't have to fight at sea." Ser Doran said.
" Why does it matter if we fight them at sea or not, we are three thousand strong. Our warships dwarf theirs. The most they can do is run back to whatever hellhole they came from."
" Our men are barely trained, and they are only trained to form formations and hold spears, not to duel pirate scum on planks of wet wood. We may still overwhelm them, but to take losses this early does not bode well for the rest of the campaign." Ser Lyonel Cressey Joined in,
" The west side of Bloodstone, full of reeds, the ships will not survive. If we choose to land there, then we have to send boats, it may take days to unload all the men and the supplies. Not even accounting for if the pirate scum will attack or not. "
" How about the east…"
" We run the risk of being surrounded from all sides, the skull isles east of Bloodstone were taken by The Butcher."
" If only we had dragons…" Maegor lamented to himself.
" What if we send a few hundred well-trained men to board quietly by the West, take the
port by surprise? Then the main bulk of our forces come in from the North and distract the patrols. Once they know the ports taken, it will be too late."
" Right, but that does not solve the problem of potential casualty. Two thousand of these men are from my land, I do not expect you to care for the common folk, but if they all perish then who will sow the land? "
What if…
" My Prince, honorable Sers, I may just have something in mind…."
…
Prince Maegor, Ser Doran, Ormond, and two hundred seasoned men at arms were now aboard the fastest of the first Royal fleet, The Speedy voyager, to carry out his plan. It was originally a trade ship that anchored in King's Landing, but was purchased for the war effort.
He was still surprised the command of the first royal fleet took to his suggestion, Though there was some initial resistance, eventually, it was settled since no one else gave forth anything better.
Instead of donning the Targaryen colors, the Voyager had all the sails changed to an innocent white. They now move directly south to Bloodstone's North port, leaving the rest of the fleet behind. Now came the first stage of his plan, to draw out the enemy.
Soon, corsair ships can be seen on the horizon, and then a little while longer, the rocky island of Bloodstone. These pirate ships were not the same as the standard warships. They are fast and nimble, designed for raiding and escaping, much like the Voyager. Though she's quite fast and light, the two hundred heavily armed men hidden under the deck left the ship slower and more sluggish than usual.
Saan's scums took notice of the Voyager soon enough, but only one raised its sails and rotated toward them.
" My prince, I think we have their attention." Ser Doran spoke as he used his Myrish glass, now dressed as the merchant captain of the ship.
" Good, Turn the ship northeast" The crew complied immediately. Maegor
" Full mast!"
The slowed voyager clumsily turned. She almost didn't move at first, but soon the wind caught on, and she cut through the water toward the Narrow sea.
The pirate ship loomed closer and closer, eventually, it caught up with the Voyager. The prince was the last one to go under the deck before they could get too close to see any details. But eventually, Ormond could see them as easily as they could see him.
Dozens of nefarious characters, dressed in all manner of styles and shouting in all sorts of tongues. They brandished their curved swords, and long knives, laughing while doing it. A sadistic bunch surely.
Two grappling hooks were thrown out from the pirate ship, hooking to the side of the Voyagers, bringing the two ships closer. A few wooden boards were then laid flat between the two, and around twenty pirates made their way over.
Ormond held his pommel tightly, he was dressed in his own armor, though without the tunic that had the sigil of his house. From the outside, he looked the part of a young guard unfortunate enough to run into Samarro Saan's crew.
The presumed leader of the pirate crew cut a striking figure against the rest of them. He had damp and long hair of silver, with a thin braid encrusted with small emeralds on the left of his forehead. He wore a slightly rusted cuirass with a fine purple tunic embroidered with gold engravings along the sleeves. A few stubbles of silver lined his chin and above his lips.
" Westerosi?" The pirate had an undistinguishable accent.
" Yes." Said Ser Doran, playing the part of the Captain.
" And this is a merchant ship?" The stranger scanned his surroundings.
" Yes."
" To where did you plan your voyage?" The head pirate slowly walked toward Ser Doran. His boots made rhythmic beats as he tapped his way over, his ringed right hand on the jeweled sword strapped to his waist.
" Lys." Ser Doran answered with a slight hesitancy. Ser Doran was an excellent warrior, but not a particularly great mummer by any imagination.
" Lys, eh? The pride and pearl of the Essos! You will find many riches and beauties alike. But has the news not gone far and wide? You are now sailing in Samarro Saan's domain. All who pass must pay a heavy toll." The man said.
" I had no knowledge of it, apologies. May I know to whom I am speaking to?" Ser Doran responded, acting as somewhat of a cowardly merchant.
The pirate captain backed away a couple of steps and bowed deeply, his hands flourished with a mockful flare. " Salazaar Saan, lieutenant and Nephew to the Great Samarro Saan, the last true Valyrian."
" We don't have any gold yet, not enough to pay in full anyway, but once we sail back from Lys, we will be sure to pay double."
The man chuckled. " What do you trade, Captain?"
"Wool, fur, Arbor gold…"
" Arbor gold shipped from the narrow sea instead of Arbor? Interesting, but there must be something more than that, the ship almost sinks by itself, something real heavy is in there. "
" It would be simpler if I just showed you" Ser Doran walked to where the main hatch was.
" What is it?" The pirate's voice grew impatient, his hand rested on his sword.
Ormond tried to calm his beating heart. It made him more aware of his surroundings in this moment of palpable tension. The whirling of the sea wind, the creaking of the wet wood. An annoying droplet of sweat now clung to his right brow, itching, distracting. He clenched his right eye.
" Cold Westerosi steel." The hatch swung open and Ser Doran unsheathed his sword.
End note:
Added some new details, shuffled some numbers, and fixed some grammar mistakes. Next chapter in the process of beta-ing, coming in a day or two. Beyond likes/favs/kudos, I'd love some engagements above all. Hit me with all your ideas, thoughts, or possible improvements!