—At Riverrun—
Daemon and Petyr rushed back to Riverrun under a barrage of shouting, gunfire, and mortar fire. It seemed the fighting had intensified while they were away defending Wayfarer's Rest—the second Lannister host had arrived from Harrenhal in droves and began their assault on House Tully's ancestral castle. Dozens of rebels and defectors were getting picked off as the rest scrambled to either return fire or hide under whatever cover they came across.
*BANG!*
*BOOM!*
*SSSSHBLAMM!*
Once the gates behind them had closed, the duo ran up the steps and returned to the command post with General Samson aiming down his sights to snipe squads of Lannister infantry and engineers. Even in his old, crippled state, the Master of War and commander of the rebel armies remained a highly skilled sharpshooter.
"General!" Petyr shouted.
Samson noticed their arrival. "You both came back in one piece. That tells us Wayfarer's Rest is secured then. Good. We just— Wait, what in Seven hells happened to you? Why is he so pale?" he referred to dry blood from Daemon's nose.
Petyr opened his mouth to say something, but the Prince shot him a glare. Both young men continued staring each other down before Daemon turned to Samson.
*BANG!*
*BOOM!*
*SSSSHBLAMM!*
"Never mind that now," he said firmly. "How bad did the situation become after we left, General?"
He's now had his first taste of actual combat, is sounding more confident than he was before, and carries himself into battle with a renewed sense of vigor like a real soldier. Good. That means he's learning fast. This keeps up and the Prince might hold his own against seasoned veterans. You taught him well, Jaerys, Samson psychoanalyzed him. "I won't lie to you, Your Highness. Now that Ser Loreon's army has arrived in force, our scouts are reporting heavy casualties on the frontlines. 400 dead in the first wave, 700 the second. We tried setting up advance positions east along the Tumblestone River, to flank the enemy before they had time to set up their artillery. However—"
"It seemed irrelevant."
"Exactly. The sheer number of lions appears to make them immune to that sort of tactic. Our troops found that out the hard way. If this keeps up, we'll all be wiped out."
"Your scouts said you have something important to tell us?"
Colonel Vargo shot more hostile forces before turning around. "Right now, the Riverlands are in chaos—with so many dead, wounded, missing, or captured." He glanced at his left. "Commander."
"Ser!" a nearby soldier saluted. His armor appeared steel plate over chainmail with the tabard of his family's house covering the front of his breastplate; a silver eagle on a bluish-violet field.
"Give them the rundown."
"Commander Broden Mallister, son and heir to my father Lord Brynden Mallister of Seagard. I led the 4th Eagle Brigade in the Royal Army before defecting to the rebels. General Samson and Colonel Vargo both reiterated that if we lose Riverrun, we lose all the Riverlands. Regardless of our situation, it is an honor to make your acquaintance, Your Highness."
Daemon nodded. "Pleasure is all mine, Commander. What have you got?" he asked.
"After a rather protracted study in the castle libraries, Maester Lawsen made a remarkable discovery. We found the exact person we need to lead the Riverlands out of this mess. Your Highness, it is my duty to report that the next Lord Paramount of the Trident is General Willem Tully."
Samson pinched his nose. "Willem Tully. That's a name I grow tired of hearing," he grimaced.
Broden appeared confused, as did Daemon and Petyr. If the mere mention of this man was enough to cause Samson a great deal of annoyance, there had to be some sort of history between the two.
"You… know this man, General?" Petyr inquired.
"Lord Edmyn's older twin brother and the black sheep of the family. He was disowned when he chose to enlist in the Royal Military Academy at the same time as I did, but he has been nothing a standoffish trout who openly flaunts the chain of command on more than one occasion. Got himself demoted six times because of his misconduct. Drinking, insubordination, getting into a physical altercation with a superior officer… to this day I still don't understand how or why he rose through the ranks given his service record, but I do know that if he has a goal in mind, he can be quite tenacious."
"But ser," Broden chimed, "wild, unorthodox, reckless behavior or not, he's popular with his troops, and like it or not he's still a Tully—"
"He also fucked my wife, squirted his bastard into her belly, and destroyed my marriage!"
All three men cringed; it appeared there was a deep grudge Samson held for Willem. But as Borden said, like it or not, Willem still carries the Tully name. With his siblings gone, he was next in line to assume the role as Lord of Riverrun and Lord Paramount of the Trident; and if his unorthodox methods could help the rebels turn the tide against Ser Loreon Lannister, they'll have to take whatever help they can get.
*BANG!*
*BOOM!*
*SSSSHBLAMM!*
"Commander," Daemon spoke again, "how… unorthodox is he?"
"Well… during the Battle at the Bloodstone, his unit—the Wild Trout's 24th Maritime Infantry Corps—discovered a legion of pirate-lords around the same time the Magisters of Myr did," Broden explained. "Rather than follow King Ormund III's instructions to neutralize the pirates, he held his forces back and allowed both sides to attack each other until they wore themselves down before General Willem seized the opportunity and moved his troops back in. No casualties. And without a Tully in command, the river lords will remain divided and confused; only General Willem can unite them. He could be our only hope of driving the Lannisters out of the Riverlands for good. And none of us are beating King Argilac alone."
"Only together do we stand a fighting chance."
"How will we find him?" Vargo asked.
"I know where he is!" the Commander exclaimed.
"You do?"
"Yes. I was fighting alongside him and his daughters two weeks ago before we got separated. Last I saw him, he said he was moving to repel a Lannister raiding party at Wendish Town just north of here. It's below Seagard so my family's been there a few times."
Daemon nodded. "All right, we've got to move fast on this one. Let us go get him and rendezvous back here as quickly as possible. I refuse to lose another Tully. Coming with us, Commander?"
Broden eagerly grabbed the hilt of his sword and flintlock. "I'm right behind you, Your Highness!" he confirmed.
"And Major Hardyng, I meant what I said. Keep Prince Daemon safe," Samson ordered before moving to return to his sharpshooting position. Aiming down his sights, he shot off another round only to stop to reload and repeat.
Again, Daemon and Petyr ran down the steps of Riverrun with Broden accompanying them as their guide to Wendish Town. And again, after departing, the gates behind them closed. With a new pair of horses, the trio could make the ride to their destination that much faster—provided their horses did not get shot out from under them again.
The Riverlands – Wendish Town…
Riding north, it took them 2-3 days before they arrived to see Lannister soldiers raiding the town. It shamed historians that since Wendish Town had recovered from Ser Gregor Clegane's rampage as a brigand eight centuries ago was under siege once more; and yet, there were numerous officers loyal to King Argilac IV going from door-to-door, threatening the town's inhabitants and setting fire to its holdfasts as the local militia tried to fight back.
"Get out of our town!" Broden exclaimed, pulling his flintlock, and shot a Lannister soldier.
*BANG!*
"Enemies at the entrance!" a senior officer hollered. "Kill them all!"
"Find the General!"
"Rebel scum!"
"Kill the Prince!"
*BANG!*
*BANG!*
*BANG!*
The trio scattered into different areas before dismounting; as Lannister infantry was busy reloading their muskets, Daemon, Petyr and Broden were quick enough to unsheathe their blades and managed to get in close to cut them down.
*SLASH!*
Wielding the legendary blade of his ancestor Stormbringer in one hand, Daemon again felt the adrenaline pumping through his veins—the euphoria of meeting an opponent in an open battle before plunging his sword deep into their abdomen.
"Bleargh!" he gurgled.
Pulling back, Daemon encountered another charging at him with his longsword on the downward swing; only to parry left and right before Petyr thrust his sword into his back. Broden, in the meanwhile, held some of his own until he noticed more Lannister soldiers were advancing on their positions. Before any could pull out their firearms, several audible shots emanated from the buildings all around them.
*BANG!*
*BANG!*
*BANG!*
"Resistance fighters! We've got cover from the towers!" Broden observed.
"Gah! Go on ahead, Commander Broden," one of the militias motioned. "We'll take care of this lot!"
"Have you seen General Willem?!"
"Half an hour ago heading west further into town!"
"Gods be with you!"
"Same!"
Upon being pointed into the direction they need to go, Daemon, Petyr, and Broden noticed a few explosive bombardments accompanied by the cries of those caught in the crossfire. Avoiding falling towers and burning debris, they sprinted further into the heart of town when they saw a group of river lords holding the line in an encircling position—in the middle flew the banner of House Tully. With more soldiers and resistance fighters from the Riverlands pouring in from each corner of the town, it became apparent that this squad consisted of young women who served in the Wild Trout's 24th Maritime Infantry Corps.
Broden spotted an elderly man in the middle. "There he is! That's him! That's General Willem Tully!" he pointed at him.
*BOOM!*
*SSSSHBLAMM!*
"That looks bad!" Daemon exclaimed.
"Double-time! Move it!" Petyr shouted.
"All right, girls! Light 'em up! Give them everything you've got!" an old man ordered in a hoarse, smoky tone.
"Understood!" a teenage girl replied.
"Enemies won't make it past us!" another echoed.
"Let's show them what the Tullys are made of!" an older woman shouted.
Within the heart of their defensive position stood General Willem Tully donning a brown scaled lamellar assembled onto blackened steel with the silver trout leaping on a red and blue background etched onto his sash. A tall man with his facial features lined and weathered with a long white beard, long once-auburn hair gone to grey with deep blue eyes and bushy eyebrows. Despite his age, Willem was tenacious in driving out the lions of House Lannister alongside his daughters—trueborn Marian (31), Willa (24), Leandra (20), Minisa (19), and Roslin Tully (17), as well as his bastards Shella Rivers (32), Wynafrei Hill (30), Alyssa Waters (29), Melissa Flowers (25), Bethany Rivers (23), and Jeyne Storm (21).
"Father!" Wynafrei shouted. "Father, Commander Broden's back with help!"
"Never mind that now, lass!" Willem grunted. "You there! Lay down some cover fire, gods damn it!"
*BANG!*
"Turn up the heat!"
*BANG!*
*BANG!*
Diving for cover on the other side with the Wild Trout's 24th Maritime Infantry Corps, Daemon, Petyr, and Broden all began taking shots at Lannister footmen with both flintlocks and muskets while the rest of the Tully forces took unorthodox methods of driving back the enemy such as sabotaging siege weapons, baiting and switching to overall rushing them head-on until they became divided and confused. Balls of lead whizzed through the air, breaking off pieces of stone and brushing past people's hair; other times, for a Tully downed, three Lannisters were felled too. After what felt like hours, the raiding party turned on their heels.
"Look! They're pulling back!" Minisa pointed.
"They're retreating," Marian agreed.
"Yes! We won the day!" Shella and Alyssa cheered loudly.
The rest of Wendish Town's militia also joined in on the celebration. Willem was among them, though his eyes remained glued to the fleeing lions. No doubt they would try again one day, but the Wild Trout's 24th Maritime Infantry Corps would remain the first and last line of defense. More of his men regrouped with their commander, heaping praises and saluting him. He huffed before he noticed the new arrivals heading towards him.
"Are you General Willem Tully?" Daemon asked.
Willem eyed the youth up and down cautiously. Who is this boy? "And what's it to you?" he deflected.
"I'm Prince Daemon of House Baratheon."
"Ah, so you're the rebel Prince I've heard so much about. I'm surprised that your brother simply didn't execute you yet or perhaps he's finally gotten sloppy. You're a long way from home, child." He turned to Broden. "Commander, where the hell did you run off to?" he demanded.
"Riverrun with Colonel Vargo, ser. Ser Loreon Lannister's army has arrived from Harrenhal in full force," Broden explained. "His Highness and Major Hardyng were tasked with finding you."
"For what?"
Daemon inhaled. "General, your presence is sorely needed at Riverrun. I'll have to ask you to please come with me."
"Bah!" Willem huffed. "It's going to take much more than a simple 'please' to make me leave my daughters or my troops in the middle of a—"
"Your brother Lord Edmyn and sister Lady Myranda are dead," the Prince swiftly cut him off. "I'm sorry you had to find out this way, but… you are the new Lord Paramount of the Trident. Your compatriots need you to immediately assume your rightful place at Riverrun to help them drive out the Lannisters."
For a moment, there seemed to be a faint twinge of surprise and shock in the old man's eyes. To not only learn that both his siblings were dead, but he was now in charge of leading the Riverlands as the head of House Tully? The seat of his ancestors, the family words… 'Family, Duty, Honor'… every Tully child—sons and daughters—learned these words by heart. He had not set foot in Riverrun in almost 30 years since he ran away to join the Royal Army in an act of defiance against his parents' wishes; he was not even sure if anyone he grew up with had even remembered him. Maybe they did but chose not to, maybe they did not and simply moved on without him.
"Father?" Bethany inquired, noticing how quiet Willem had suddenly gotten.
Willem took a few paces forward to the city's fountain. The water was slightly dirtied with the fallen debris of stone and wood, but he could still see his reflection off the surface. "Edmyn, Myranda… they're both dead?" he repeated.
"Yes, ser."
"How did they die?"
Petyr stepped in. "Lord Edmyn Tully was killed at the Battle of Harrenhal by Ser Loreon Lannister's men. He sacrificed himself to allow his people to escape," he explained.
Broden nodded. "And… Lady Myranda Tully… she was one of those who were executed by King Argilac himself after parliament was dissolved."
This was a lot for the old General to take in. Once he regained his nerves, he turned his sights towards the Prince. "You said your name was Daemon, right? What is your mission?"
"I'm forming a revolutionary army to remove my brother from the throne," Daemon started to explain, hoping the Tully would listen to his pleas. "After we escaped from King's Landing during the riots, we knew we had to act. We moved our main base of operation to the Eyrie deep within the Mountains of the Moon, with my navy stationed at Gulltown – the Vale's major port. Lady Sharra of House Arryn, the new ruler of the Vale and Wardeness of the East, wishes to ally with House Tully to secure crops for her soldiers to eat. In return, she would deploy the Vale's military to help turn the tide against Argilac and General Gerion Lannister—the two people responsible for murdering your siblings. I know my brother; I know how he thinks… but I cannot defeat him alone. I need your help."
The boy's got guts telling me quite a tale, but the so-called King in the Narrow Sea still has much to learn about more than just winning battles. He's got to win over his men's loyalty with action and merit, not just words. "And so, you expect me to just do… do what exactly? Be the Lord of Riverrun and Lord Paramount of the Trident?"
"Yes, ser."
Willem shook his head. "Look boy, you sound like you have quite the task ahead of you. I get that, but you're asking the wrong man," he said hoarsely. "The truth is I don't know anything about you other than just your name. And you come from the royal family, which I've had problems with. The politics and all that. I've spent my entire life in the military serving my country. I'm no politician, and I hate politicians. Wet shits tend to get in the way of what's important."
"You'd refuse your superiors again, ser?" Petyr said indignantly.
"Watch your tone, Major."
Daemon tilted his head. "But if you hate politics so much, what makes you so sure you don't even want this? Why too hesitant?" he asked.
"Because as I said earlier, I preferred life in the army. And because I prefer to not hide behind words or acts of flattery, I tend to be brutally honest. So naturally, I piss a lot of people off—including the monarchy," Willem explained. "This is who I am, and I'm damn proud of it. All the other highborn lords and ladies never get the full picture until the gates of the Seven hells are at their front gates."
"Which is why your experience is sorely needed, General!" Daemon pressed. "You've been through hell; you've seen firsthand the devastation war brings. And given the current state of affairs our beloved country faces today, we need men and women who've been through that hell. To put a stop to Argilac's tyranny once and for all and bring back the real Royal Army of Westeros our ancestors founded."
"Huh. The day I picked up my rifle and swore the oath of service, I swore to defend my country against all enemies—foreign and domestic. I swore to defend the royal family as well did. I may not follow the rules regarding the chain of command, but even I know things aren't meant to be this way. Families have torn apart with brothers fighting brothers, fathers having to bury their sons… Your brother and his lackeys don't care about the bigger picture."
"It was never supposed to have gotten this far."
"And let us say for the sake of argument that you do succeed in this little mission of yours, what will you do afterward about our armed forces? What will you do about the Royal Army you claim to support?"
"My father, grandfather, great-grandfather… all my forebears before me served in the military. They are meant to protect the people against our enemies, not suppress them or stain the honor of the uniform by committing such vile acts like rape, murder, or torture. It goes against everything our country stands for."
Willem folded his arms. That look in the eye… I've only seen it a few times in my day. "Go on."
"Honestly? I'm not sure I even know what I'm doing half the time," Daemon felt exhausted. "But uniting the other Great Houses to the revolution is going to require a lot of strength, patience, willpower, and determination. So far, we have the North and several other houses in the Crownlands. But that alone is not enough." He points to the devastation around them. "See this? All this death? If we don't join forces, the nightmare will never end and Argilac wins. I need your help to stop him. Please, General, I need the support of House Tully. I need the Riverlands. Please…"
Again, Willem listened closely to the Prince's words and pleas. He needed help, but the Tully general was not too keen on being a lord. Slowly piecing the puzzle together, the town had grown silent with many awaiting his answer. His teeth gritted and shook his head sighing.
"Give me a moment to say goodbye to my daughters," Willem conceded. "All right, lasses! I'm stepping down as commander of the Wild Trout's 24th Maritime Infantry Corps. Marian, you'll be taking my place from now on. Girls, you support your sister, do you hear me? Now I want the rest of you to redirect our forces to Riverrun! Let's go show Gerion's boy how dangerous a trout can be!"
Daemon breathed a sigh of relief; it seemed his words finally gotten through despite Samson's earlier misgivings about him. Perhaps Willem was man who can be reasoned with after all; even Petyr was rather surprised about the Prince taking the initiative instead of it being the other way around. However, the celebration was short-lived as Willem again approached him.
"One more thing, lad," he said. "I understand you need the Riverlands' backing and our crops, but I cannot spare any men or rations to your cause. Not while my homeland remains threatened by the Lannisters. However, my girls have just recently discovered the lions have been using ships along the Sunset Sea to resupply their troops, transport heavy artillery, and more. If the pressure can be taken off us along the western coast, the problem will go away for good."
"Wait, what?" Petyr said with disbelief.
Even Daemon was taken aback. "Th-that's a pretty tall order, ser," he stammered. "My navy is on the other side of the continent—"
"Use your brains, boy!" Willem leaned in close to whisper into the Prince's ear. "We need the Greyjoys and their Iron Fleet. They possess one of the largest naval forces in the entire kingdom and they know how to use them. So long as your brother's ships remain weighed at anchor, they'll just keep coming at us relentlessly and you can kiss your sorry little revolution goodbye. Get the ironborn to help us, and then we can help you. Understood?" he pressed before leaving.
The… the Greyjoys, Daemon shuddered. The last ironborn he met was Briala Greyjoy, one of the Iron Islands' representatives at parliament. Last he heard, she herself was one of those who did not make it out alive and was summarily executed. Word was the Lady Reaper of Pyke, Asha Greyjoy, was furious upon learning of her sister's fate and ordered the ironborn to raid castles along the western coastlines. But if the Tullys needed the Greyjoys to defeat the Lannisters, then this assignment just got a lot more complicated.
"Damn that old man!" Petyr cursed. "If it's not one thing, then it's another! General Samson is not going to be pleased about this."
"Gods damn it…" Daemon shook his head with disbelief. "Commander…?"
"Yes, Your Highness?" Broden replied.
"How can we get to the Iron Islands from here?"
"We can go to Seagard and take a ship to Pyke, but we'll have to be careful about being on the open waters."
"Wait! Hold on! You're seriously not considering going to the Iron Islands, are you?" Petyr said bewildered. "The Greyjoys are privateers and spit in the face of honor! I refuse to allow you to be a part of this!"
Daemon glanced over his shoulder. "Pār kostā pālegon se jikagon lenton," he responded in High Valyrian.
"What did you say?"
"I said 'Then you can turn around and go home.' And let Samson know how you refuse to uphold your oath, Major. Because I'm done playing around." With nothing more to say, Daemon returned to his horse along with Broden.
"Ah, fuck!" Petyr cursed and followed them.
With all three leaving Wendish Town for Seagard, it would take time to book a passage through Ironman's Bay to Pyke, one of the seven archipelagos off the western coast making up the Iron Islands. From there, they'd arrive at Lordsport and travel to the castle of Pyke to seek an audience with Asha Greyjoy… the Lady of Iron Islands, Queen of Salt and Rock, Daughter of the Sea Wind, and Lady Reaper of Pyke.
And something told the Prince he was going to be in for a rough scenario.
Chapter End
Author's Note: Another chapter concluded with the discovery of another Tully, but Prince Daemon's troubles are only just beginning as the Riverlands won't make a move unless the Iron Islands agree to help them. What do you guys think of how Daemon might try to navigate through the ironborn? Or will his efforts prove futile? Find out next time.