—At a nearby encampment—
"Our scouts report the Lannister armies are encroaching on two fronts: from the west past the Golden Tooth and from the east near Harrenhal," noted Ser Martyn Cassel, a Lieutenant in the Winter Wolves' 34th Cavalry Division. "The second host is said to be larger than the first. With the kingsroad cut off, confrontation is inevitable. I recommend that we get the second Lannister army on broken ground and put their troops at a disadvantage."
"Bah! Do that and you'll be wastin' a fine lot on a useless mission, Lieutenant," bellowed Lord Harmond Umber, ruler of the Last Hearth and Colonel in the Winter Wolves' 12th Marauder Battalion. A seasoned war veteran with roughly 40 years of combat experience under his belt, Harmond is a large heavily muscled man, standing nearly 7' 0" and is a formidable warrior with fists as large as hams. He is a direct descendant of Lord Greatjon Umber through his grandson Ned Umber.
Every high-ranking Northmen officer in the main command tent surrounded a map detailing the battlefield, with each piece spread across the table detailing the movement of the respective Lannister, Tully, and Stark armies.
"No, what we need to do is get around them and stop the lion host approaching from the Golden Tooth dead in its tracks near the Whispering Wood before reinforcing the Tullys at Riverrun. Do that, and both the river lords and army defectors will join us."
"But to do that we'll need to send a relief force here at Wayfarer's Rest. It's suggested to be one of the rebels' last remaining supply lines," noted Ser Brandon Stark, second-in-command of the Winter Wolves. Serving under his elder brother Rodrick's leadership, both young men claim descendant of Robb Stark the Young Wolf, who served as Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North 800 years ago. Brandon had gaunt features, a long face, small grey eyes, and long brown hair. Whereas Roderick was born to lead, he was born to follow – the alpha and beta.
Standing at the front was Rodrick Stark, whose eyes remained focused on the map. The North's heir and former representative in parliament, he narrowly managed to escape King's Landing to avoid execution and fled home to Winterfell. Once he informed his father, Lord Jon Stark, the North rallied their armies and rose in rebellion against King Argilac IV. Having crossed the Neck with additional river lords led by Commander Arwood Frey, the northern armies grew larger with engineers and crannogmen saboteurs under the leadership of Commander Donnel Reed. As the leader of the Winter Wolves, Rodrick commanded the entire northern military on its long campaign south.
"So, which course of action are we going to take, my lord?" inquired Lieutenant Jorelle Mormont. "Do we confront the main Lannister host approaching from Harrenhal… or the one coming from the Golden Tooth?"
But before the heir to Winterfell could reply, there was a small commotion coming from outside nearing their tent – and the footsteps were growing louder. Someone was coming! Everyone stood at attention was some Stark and Frey guards hauled in a strange man, his hands tied behind his back and a burlap sack placed over his head before it was subsequently removed.
"Apologies for the intrusion, my lord," one of them said, "but we caught this man near one of our campsites."
"A spy?" growled Harmond.
"No, ser. He had this on him."
The guard reached into the man's pocket and pulled out a piece of paper before rolling it out onto the table. Once opened, it revealed a list of names… along with a hefty reward for each one.
'WANTED: Lady Leandra BLACKWOOD of Raventree Hall. A Madwoman and a Revolutionist. Whose Crimes involve INCITING VIOLENCE and SEDITION. Dead or Alive. 100 Silver Stags REWARD.'
'WANTED: Sharra ARRYN of the Eyrie. A Revolutionist and Traitor. For the Horrendous Crime of HIGH TREASON. Dead or Alive. 20,000 Gold Dragons REWARD.'
'WANTED: Former Master of Whisperers Jaqoros HESTOHR of Braavos. A Coward and Traitor. Whose Crimes involve MURDER, AIDING AND ABETTING, and HIGH TREASON. Dead or Alive. 6,000 Gold Dragons REWARD.'
'WANTED: Ser Rodrick STARK of Winterfell. A Lunatic and Traitor. Whose Crimes involve MURDER and TREASON. Dead or Alive. 1,000 Gold Dragons REWARD.'
'WANTED: Former Master of Ships Lord Admiral Jacaerys VELARYON of Driftmark. A Coward and Traitor. For the Crime of DESERTION, AIDING AND ABETTING, and HIGH TREASON. Dead or Alive. 15,000 Gold Dragons REWARD.'
'WANTED: Professor Samson of King's Landing. A Coward and Traitor. For the Horrendous Crime of HIGH TREASON. Dead or Alive. 30,000 Gold Dragons REWARD.'
'WANTED: Colonel Vargo MAEGYR of Volantis. A Coward and Traitor. For the Crime of DESERTION and TREASON. Dead or Alive. 2,000 Gold Dragons REWARD.'
The rest goes on; there we many names listed and a few that were crossed off were labeled as either dead or captured until all eyes reached the last one.
'WANTED: Prince Daemon BARATHEON of King's Landing. A Coward, Revolutionist, and Traitor. For the Horrific Crime of HIGH TREASON. Dead or Alive. 40,000 Gold Dragons REWARD.'
Rodrick and Brandon turned to glare at this man. It was clear that this was a bounty with all the highly-publicized names were confirmed as targets; the elder Stark being one of them. The Northmen and some river lords did not take too kindly to this man.
"This is a hit list," Martyn noted.
"Aye," the guard noted. "He says he's one of King Argilac's bounty hunters; hired and paid by General Gerion Lannister himself."
"We can see that, lad!" Harmond bellowed. "Don't worry. This one won't be leaving with his head on his shoulders for that much longer."
"And who benefits if I lose my head? Yourselves, I'm sure," the bounty hunter shrugged confidently. "I do not have any quarrel with you. I'm just doing my job."
"You're pretty confident for a dead man."
"As I said, it's just business. I was given the names of people His Grace wanted alive… or dead for that matter, either way, I got paid." He almost leaned in. "But what if I told you I'm open to making a deal? I've heard the Northmen are a direct group of people who value honor."
"And what proposal do you offer that could be of value or be beneficial to us?" pressed Brandon.
"Why, information. I've seen the encampments at both Harrenhal and the Golden Tooth before me and my brethren were dispatched."
"Your 'brethren'?"
"Aye. We're the Talons, a bounty hunter's guild from Dragon's Bay specializing in information gathering, subterfuge, and assassination. Each of us is unique and is ranked accordingly. The more skilled the Talon is, the higher they rise in the ranks; the dangerous we are, the greater the reward."
The Lord of Last Hearth grabbed him by the throat and raised him off the ground. "He's too dangerous to be left alive! If we let him go now, who's to say he won't go after the others? Especially our Swift Wolf?" he snarled. "I'd rather tear his throat out now and be rid of the threat altogether!"
"*Gah! Ack!*"
"But what if the information he has turns out to have merit?" Jorelle interjected. "If this man says he's seen both armies, we might have an idea as to how what we're truly up against?"
"And what if he says turns out to be nothing but a lie?! I say he's luring us into a trap."
"And if we go in blindly, we'll be the ones walking into a trap… my lord."
"*Ngh! Ack!*"
"Release him," Rodrick commanded.
Harmond and the others turned to the Swift Wolf in surprise, who crossed his arms and stared at the Lord of Last Hearth's grip around the bounty hunter's throat. He was still struggling to free himself as the hand around his neck got tighter and tighter. His canine companion, a large albino wolf, snarled viciously.
"Are you daft, boy?! Letting him—"
"I said release him… Now."
No raising his voice but still commanded a firm authoritative tone, Rodrick laid down his edict as commander of the Winter Wolves. Harmond begrudgingly released the bounty hunter, causing him to fall to the ground with a heavy thud. He gasped and coughed for air before as the Swift Wolf approached him and leaned in close to his ear.
"Tell us what we need to know," Rodrick whispered; his tone was cold. He was ready to kill at a moment's notice if he lied or felt threatened. "How many men? And who commands them?"
"*Ack!* *Cough, cough!* The… the ones from the Golden Tooth, around 10,000 men. Led by Captain Tyler Lannister, Gerion's nephew. They're headed for Wayfarer's Rest whose supply depot has 400 rebels. The… the Prince is… on his way there right now."
"What?!" Brandon exclaimed. "Daemon's here in the Riverlands?" he turned to Rodrick. "Brother, we have to—"
"Hush!" he commanded. "How did the Talons know of our cousin?"
"The King told us. We… the rest of us are hidden well within the shadows. The reason we haven't made a move yet is… *cough! cough!* is because the boy is no threat to us. Not yet anyway…"
"But you still mean to kill him?"
"Yes."
"And what of the rest of the Lannister armies? How many? Who leads them?" he pressed further.
"You asked a lot of—"
"*Grrrr!*" the wolf clamped its jaws around his throat. The bounty hunter seized at the sudden crunching pressure, but the wolf maintained a firm grip yet did not bite down further at its master's command.
"My father taught me the meaning of mercy, when there is room for it," Rodrick claimed. "And honor and courage. But when one member of the pack is threatened by another, the rest of us will tear them to shreds. If I wanted to, Razor here could tear out your throat and you die within seconds. After what I went through in King's Landing at Argilac's hands, I am more inclined to do so. But I need that information. Talk and maybe you walk. Now, this is going to be the last time I will say it. How many in the second Lannister army and who leads them?"
"*Ack!* *Gasp!* 50,000 troops marching from Harrenhal!" the bounty hunter exclaimed. "General Gerion's son and heir Ser Loreon Lannister leads them! They are en route to Riverrun, where everyone else has gathered to defend it! If Riverrun falls, so too does the entire Riverlands! They'll then march North to Winterfell if that scenario does occur!"
Rodrick signals his wolf to release its grip. "Run back to King's Landing," he warned. "Tell my cousin Argilac and your client Lord Gerion, that winter is coming for them both. The North remembers. Now get out and never return."
The bounty hunter sprang to his feet and ran out the tent – intending to carry the message. But what made Rodrick wonder… why run? If the Talons were as feared as he said, why would he simply retreat or make a last-ditch effort to try to kill him? Could it be that this one was one of the weaker ones? And this list… if Daemon was indeed in the Riverlands and the bounty placed on his head was that high compared to the others, then his life would be in the gravest danger.
"Rod?" Brandon inquired.
"We have no choice but to send a splinter force to fend off the ones advancing on Wayfarer's Rest. The rest of us will have to initiate a pincer maneuver on the main Lannister host from the Whispering Wood. Remember, victory in battle is not always won through superior numbers. Even a Northmen is more than a match for the best southern swordsman."
"Are you sure that's wise, Lord Stark?" Donnel questioned. "Dividing our army in two will weaken our position against the main Lannister host. Unless the Vale decides to make a move—"
"Sharra's doing everything she can on her end, but the door swings both ways. While it is true Argilac's men unable to press further into the mountains to reach the Eyrie, the knights of the Vale themselves can't get to the kingsroad to help us either. And Argilac knows this. What we need is a momentary distraction until an opportunity presents itself." Rodrick placed on his wolf cloak. "Begin the advance. I want a full night's march before Loreon Lannister realizes we're on the move."
"Winter is coming!"
"Winter is coming!"
"Winter is coming!"
—At Wayfarer's Rest—
*BANG!*
"Hold your position! Don't let those lions take Wayfarer's Rest!" shouted Corporal Clayse Hawthorne.
Exchanging gunfire and mortar fire with the approaching Lannister forces from Golden Tooth, the Tully soldiers and army defectors were in a fierce fight for their lives by defending the last major supply depot in the Riverlands. Outnumbered by an approximate 9,600, the rebels were standing on their last legs.
*BOOM!*
"There's so many of them!" exclaimed Private Mayra Trinner.
*SSSSHBLAMM!*
"Enemy inbound south-by-southwest!" Private Emmelyne Tarth shouted.
"I see them! Take out the Lieutenant!"
"I'm almost out of gunpowder!"
*SSSSHBLAMM!*
"Enemy mortar fire has wiped out almost all of our defenses! The supply depot is on fire!"
"Somebody put that damn fire out!"
"Where're our reinforcements?! We need more troops on the—"
*BANG!*
"Mayra! NO!" shouted Emmelyne upon seeing her comrade's corpse after being shot in the head. "YOU LANNISTER BASTARDS!" She returned to aim her musket rifle down towards her assailants and unleashed more explosive shots, hitting four more Lannister officers – yet the numerous amounts of those who remained standing were nigh untouchable.
*BANG!*
*BANG!*
*BANG!*
Far across the battlefield, Captain Tyler Lannister waved his longsword forward. "All units forward! Seize that pathetic supply depot from the rebels and secure provisions for our troops. Now!"
"A'ooo! A'ooo!" they chanted.
*KABOOM!*
Tyler quickly turned to see his mortars were exploding from behind, creating shockwaves and scattering a large number of his troops. Someone had taken shots at their explosive materials, destabilizing them and causing them to blow up! What in Seven hells just happened? They were surrounded by dense trees and underbrush; too little too late did Tyler realize the forestry gave enemy ambush troops a perfect place to hide.
"Enemy attack!" one Lannister infantry soldier exclaimed.
"Was it from the rebels?!" another shouted.
"It came from behind!"
*KABOOM!*
"More coming from the left and right flanks!"
"Where are they?!"
"I can't see them anywhere!"
The Lannister army from the Golden Tooth began pointing their muskets, flintlocks, and cannons towards every single direction—aimed at the rebels and the surrounding areas. Even the rebels were somewhat surprised at the sudden act of espionage; one of them caught slight movement within the trees as more shots were fired—killing more Lannister troops from left and right flanks.
"This is for Harrenhal, you bastards!" shouted a common farmer.
Another army defector appeared from the underbrush. "This is for my wife and daughter you lions murdered!" he yelled.
*BANG!*
The supply depot defenders wondered in disbelief until Petyr and Daemon sprang out of the woodwork, firing off their flintlocks at Lannister troops as they dove for cover.
*BANG!*
"It's him! It's the Prince!" one Lannister troops spotted him.
Tyler saw an opportunity. "Men! Ignore this rabble! Get the Prince!" he yelled.
Petyr and Daemon lowered their heads behind cover as they sprang closer to the rebels who looked at them with surprise. One was an experienced soldier yet based on the shouting they had not expected Prince Daemon Baratheon to be with them as well.
"Major Petyr Harding of the Brotherhood of Winged Knights," he said loudly.
"Corporal Clayse Hawthorne of the 4th Infantry Division! Servant of House Tully! There are only two of you? You brought help?" Clayse asked.
"Some stragglers and resistance fighters. Guerrilla-style hit-and-run tactics. Who's in command here?"
"You're looking at her!"
Daemon flinched as balls of lead zipped past him. "What happened to Sergeant Arlen?" he asked.
Clayse pointed at a nearby body, his armor and facial features were recognizable which confirmed he was indeed Sergeant Arlen. "He was reinforcing a perimeter that was about to collapse! Lannisters got him, but not before he took out 50 of them with him! We've been holed up here fighting for our lives!"
*WHIZ!*
"Ngh! How bad was the situation before we got here, Corporal?" Daemon asked.
"Ugh! There were 400 of us earlier! We lost 40 in the first wave, almost 100 the next! We tried taking out their commander with stolen artillery, but their cannons blew it all up! It was just—"
"Irrelevant," Petyr deducted.
"Yes, ser! We're all that's left! There's just too many of them!"
"Not for much longer! We just came from Riverrun! Colonel Vargo informed us that the Northmen are on their way here as we speak!"
"The Colonel's still alive? And we're getting reinforcements? Oh, thank the Gods!" Calyse exclaimed. Another shot whizzed past her short blonde hair. "Gah! Damn it!"
Daemon scurried his way over to her. "Our volunteers will focus on taking out their siege weapons and cavalry! We'll help you hold them off long enough until help comes!"
"Have I told you how much I hate this war?"
"You and me both!"
Nodding to each other with acknowledgment, Daemon and Petyr began aiding Clayse and the other rebel forces at Wayfarer's Rest against the much larger Lannister army. Although outnumbered, the volunteers and freedom fighters they brought along the way were giving the enemy one hell of a showdown. Renewed with vigor, the once disenfranchised rebels picked up their weapons and began shooting. One by one, they gunned down more Lannister soldiers before three more of them were killed in retaliation. The plan was simple: cause havoc from behind and all sides and hold their position long enough for the Northmen to come… if they could. If not quickly enough, then Wayfarer's Rest would be overrun even with enemy mortars being disabled one after the other.
*BANG!*
*WHIZ!*
"I'm almost out of gunpowder!" Daemon exclaimed. "Major, I need— GAAAH!" he gripped the side of his head as he was hit with a sudden burst of pain.
"Daemon?!" Petyr watched.
« …Be warned. The likelihood of betrayal from within is high… »
"Daemon, what in Seven hells are you doing?! Focus! DAEMON!" the Vale soldier continued to shout.
The Prince could not focus; it is as if the sounds around him were deafening, accompanied by ringing in his ears. His eyes were shut tight, and he clenched his teeth in agony. It feels like his head was splitting in two. Why now? Why did this have to happen now of all places?
"DAEMON, BEHIND YOU!"
Daemon only managed to begin slightly opening his left eye, but the crippling pain forced him to turn too slowly when he saw one of the rebels aiming a flintlock pistol at his head.
"The Talons send their regards," was all he heard.
*BANG!*
Chapter End
Author's Note: House Stark is set to send troops to both locations at Riverrun and Wayfarer's Rest, but will the Northmen make in time for the ultimate confrontation with Loreon Lannister before it's too late? And Daemon is once again hearing the mysterious voices in his head and it's causing him a great deal of pain. But what about this sudden act of betrayal? And who are these Talons? Find out next time in part 2.
10868letsgo: Please tell me he is not dead!
—No he ain't