Ser Justin Massey woke up to pain. His head seemed swollen like a balloon from being punched in the face. A tearing pain in his forearm where the Alexandrian boy had bit him. A throbbing pain in his chest. And a searing pain between his legs, the worst type of pain known to man, barely soothed by the ice cold weight above it.
His mind was still swimming when his eyes shot open of their own accord. His mouth followed with a loud scream, to the mirth of that face looming over him. A face he knew very well.
"My men…" he whispered, voice raspy and hoarse. Any sane commander would care for his men.
"All alive. No thanks to you of course," Aurane Velaryon pointed out. "And many of them are worse for wear."
Justin himself was very much the worse for wear. "My balls…" he croaked, fighting through the pain in his groin that ebbed and flowed. He strained to look down but his strength failed him. Maybe he could join the Unsullied. Here in Westeros he would be known as the Knight who Lost His Balls. If the Alexandrians even let him live.
"You still have them," Aurane chuckled. "You're lucky you ended up in our hands. It took Lord Rykker and I much effort to have you dealt with as a Crownlander matter."
"Dealt with," the words rolled off Justin's tongue. Still Justin let out a sigh of relief. The Alexandrians didn't want him dead… at least not yet. And the Crownlander lords he knew well.
Justin's eyes wandered around the room. It was too comfortable to be a cell. There were no windows, the walls lit only by two candleless lamps on the drawer. He couldn't tell whether it was day or night. Everything seemed to be swaying, though Justin was too dazed to tell if this was his own imagination.
His thirst wasn't imaginary however. He sat up on the bed and took the glass of water Aurane offered him. It was the clearest glass he had ever seen, devoid of all colours and stains and bubbles, save the stream of bubbles fizzling from the water itself. He took a sip, careful not to choke as the water lapped at his swollen slips. It tingled his tongue and had a lemony taste. So tasty that he asked for another glass which Aurane poured for him. But the admiral declined to offer thirds.
"You had said you would answer your liege lord's calls," the admiral said. "Now is the time for you to decide who your liege lord is. I ask in the name of the Crownlands under Prince Carl Grimes the Mountainslayer: does House Massey stand with us or against us?"
He might as well ask whether I mean to live or die. This time Justin was quick to answer. "House Massey stands with the Crownlands under Prince Carl." Stannis was a lost cause, not one that was worth dying for. Not even worth kidnapping an Alexandrian boy for, truth be told.
"Good. It would have been a shame to see you lose your head. Though you seem to have lost it already with that attempt of yours. What in the seven hells were you thinking?"
"I… don't know…" Justin croaked. Misplaced loyalty perhaps, though it was nothing more than stubbornness in hindsight. Or was it an undercurrent of pride, to win against the Alexandrians when nobody else had done so before? But by this defeat he had lost more glory than he could have ever earned, like as not.
Aurane helpfully confirmed Justin's suspicions. "It doesn't matter now… Nonetheless you should keep your opinions close when you start attending our war councils. Twenty grown men losing against two young boys did wonders for your reputation in matters of war," the admiral advised with a smirk, "and not in a way you would have liked."
Fortunately Aurane didn't delve on this topic. Instead he gave Justin a stack of papers held together by a strip of iron wire twisted into triangles. Reasonable terms, lenient even considering what Justin had done. Amnesty for the attempted kidnapping for Justin and his men. A land charter confirming House Massey's lordship of Stonedance along with a new council seat that came with it.
Rights were matched by responsibilities. The Masseys would swear fealty to Prince Carl and his heirs, pay taxes to King's Landing as had been under the Baratheon and Targaryen kings. Raise companies of men and place them under the Prince's command during crisis or strife. Maintain roads and seaports and airports within their territory - seaports were obvious with the daily ferries that would soon be stopping by Stonedance, though Justin wondered what these airports were for when the new royal line had no dragons of their own. But the last clause was clear as day. Make sure every person within the borders of his lands was properly fed and clothed and housed.
It was this clause that caused Justin concern. "That's impossible!" he exclaimed, still weak in his bed. "There are famines and plagues and wars. Even the Kingslanders who lived in sight of the Red Keep itself were hardly all fed and clothed and housed when Jaehaerys the Wise reigned!"
"Would it surprise you that we hope to do better than Jaehaerys the Wise? These aren't the Seven Kingdoms any longer. Times change and so should we. We start by cutting back on feasts and tourneys and jewelry. Investing in our lands. Stonedance has it easier than many: your fishermen need not travel far when there are decent fishing grounds just off your shores, and your builders can carve homes out of those stoney cliffs overlooking the sea. Clothes and other wares will come cheap when ferries begin calling at your ports. If maintaining your smallfolk proves too difficult, it would be best if your House gave up lordship of Stonedance in exchange for retaining much of your wealth," Aurane added. "Or you could go to Prince Carl himself and see if he's willing to relax those terms. But he was very insistent on this clause, and after what happened you are in no position to ask for more."
"I'll take these terms as they are." Justin swiftly signed on the dotted line with Aurane's iron quill. There was no other choice.
Aurane took a careful look at the signature before nodding his approval. "Very well," he said with a satisfied smile. "I will leave you to recover from your injuries. Welcome onboard, Ser Massey."
"Onboard." A statement rather than a question. Justin had already worked out he was on a ship, though this ship he did not know. "Where are we? And where are we going?"
"The Black Swan, headed towards Hardhome. There you will have the chance to prove your worth."
Aurane put the lights out and closed the door behind him, leaving Ser Justin Massey in darkness again. Two ladders later and he emerged into sunlight, taking in this new ship in her full glory.
Black Swan she was named and aptly so. Her long hull appeared to be that of a swan ship, down to the graceful figurehead adorning the prow. But the quarterdeck where Aurane stood was much lower, and the forecastle was all but gone, sails triangular in the Alexandrian fashion rather than square. This ship was heavily armed unlike its Summer Islander brethren. Black gunbarrels lined the ship's side above a tarred black hull, the two volley guns that sat at prow and stern respectively needed little introduction except to enemies who would face their wrath. He would be surprised if there was another ship in the world which could fight this seabird, or her six sisters who would one day join her on the waves. Perhaps even more ships of this type, if Aurane could convince the other lords to fund his naval plans.
The admiral gave a cursory glance to the south as he walked along the decks, confirming that the main fleet was already out of range. Owing to her swift speed, the Black Swan would be racing to Skagos ahead of the Sealord's galleys, where her crew would collect dragonglass before the other ships caught up. Most of the crew were Westerosi, and most of those a roughly equal split of Northmen and Crownlanders, though there were also a few important Alexandrians on board.
Lord Renfred Rykker was waiting next to the swan-shaped figurehead. "Massey?" he asked.
"Didn't take long for him to bend the knee. Not literally of course, bedridden as he is. Though that can be arranged later if need be."
"I doubt there's any need. He's a dead man if he returns to Stannis' cause. Speaking of that, it seems the Stormlands would be further shrunk as of late," said Renfred with a wry smile on his face.
"Oh?" asked Aurane, curious for once.
"Lord Buckler found me here ten minutes ago. He wants Bronzegate to be made part of the Crownlands. He has heard… rumours that Alexandria might try to seek peace with Stannis, recognising him as Storm King in exchange for him abandoning claims to the rest of Westeros."
Rumours that were almost certainly false. Sure, no sane lord would expect the Alexandrians to seek peace after Stannis' men tried to kidnap their leader's son. But those who had deserted Stannis' cause could not risk being forced back into his camp. Aurane had not been there to see Stannis burn Lord Florent alive, but he had seen the charred stake at Dragonstone where Florent spent his last moments. The captured garrison said Lord Florent had been as stoic as ever until the flames began licking at his feet. Aurane was in no hurry to personally find out whether he would react the same way. Neither did Lord Buckler it seemed.
So Aurane replied: "I see no reason to refuse the request. Stonedance was part of the Kingdom of the Storm before Aegon's Conquest, and yet this is no longer so. Buckler's lands are next to the Crownlands just beyond the Wendwater. It would do us no harm to add them to Prince Carl's domains. Better yet if the Errols of Haystack Hall were also sworn to King's Landing rather than Storm's End. We would then have a continuous stretch of land south of Massey's Hook."
"There is also Tarth to consider. Selwyn Tarth has no love for Stannis and his daughter is now serving our cause. I will send a raven to Errol and Tarth once we make landfall."
"Bold of you to assume the Skagosi haven't eaten their ravens long ago," Aurane snickered. "There is no need, I will radio Braavos to have the messages delivered for us."
"Radio?" Renfred seemed confused. "I thought those machines could only send word as far as the horizon?"
Aurane shook his head. "That would normally be true. Radio rays would sail off into the boundless void if they miss the horizon. But there is also a layer of air around our world that is charged with lightning, every once in a while it bounces some radio rays back towards the ground as if it were a mirror, or so the Alexandrians say. This method is by no means reliable. And yet messages could be sent truly afar, even to a radioman headed to Yi Ti if the Alexandrians could be believed."
Renfred's eyes suddenly lit up. "Hardhome is much closer than Yi Ti. Does that mean-"
"Indeed. We've been in occasional radio contact with the Alexandrians at Hardhome. The Lord Protector and his men are still alive," Aurane confirmed, "as are most of the wildlings taking shelter with them. Still they are losing people. Foodstores are dwindling fast and it is getting colder every day."
"Another problem for another day. It would be best if we annexed Bronzegate while the Alexandrians are busying themselves with more important matters."
"Aye, but at least one Alexandrian will know about it. We'll need Prince Carl's seal and his approval."
Though that was not a problem. Carl was busy assembling a line of small wooden boxes when the two Crownlanders entered the squires' cabin. For what purpose Aurane did not know, though he saw little reason to ask when he didn't want too many questions about Bronzegate in turn. And so Aurane met a happy Lord Buckler with charter in hand, before heading off to the radio room to make further enquiries.
Braavos' reply came days later when Black Swan was about to sail into the Bay of Seals. Lord Selwyn had agreed to the proposal almost immediately and even convinced the Errols. Aurane wondered what Stannis would think when he learned that a fifth of the Stormlands were gone with a few strokes of the quill.
Arya leaned against Black Swan's railing, her pair of Alexandrian far-eyes trained on a rough sliver of land that lay beyond the choppy seas.
Skagos. Part of the North in name, for its lords swore fealty to House Stark, yet the people who lived there could scarcely be more different. Or so Maester Luwin had taught in lessons that seemed to be another lifetime ago. She wished he were here to talk about the customs of the peoples in each part of her newfound realm. But the maester had surely died at Winterfell with Bran and Rickon and the rest.
At least Jon would be here soon. Even sooner than the original plan, for the Watch's latest message said they would be joining the expedition at Skagos, so that the black brothers could also collect dragonglass to defend themselves when it came to the battle at Hardhome. That was the official explanation. Arya had no doubt her brother had other reasons on his mind.
"Ow!" a heavy crate bumped into Arya's leg. The crate was full of crossbows for the Skagosi, spoils of war after the Grey Wedding that the other Northmen did not need.
"I'm s-sorry your Grace," a frightened deckhand swiftly secured the crate and hauled it away.
"Poor omens I say," the Greatjon muttered with a frown. "I did warn that those crossbows will be used to attack House Stark again. Seems it's already happening even before the Skaggs could get their hands on them. And once they do… mark my words, they will rise up in rebellion once again. The Skaggs are a mongrel breed born to burn and rape and murder, it's written into their Ibbenese blood. What do they know about law and civilisation?"
"Crossbows do little to help a rebellion when we have guns. Or do you think men in pelts would fare better than the Mountain's horde?" asked Lord Wyman Manderly. "Those crossbows would allow the Skaggs to hunt better so that they have more time to mine dragonglass for us."
"Nor are we giving the Skagosi crossbows for free," said Olyvar Rosby. "Each will be repaid fifty times their weight in dragonglass daggers and arrowheads, though I suppose the Skaggs might try to haggle down the price. More than a worthwhile trade when the crossbows didn't cost us anything."
"Hunt? They'll find it easier to hunt other men, I'll give you that." The Greatjon pointed at dark clouds drifting over the horizon. "Chances are as good as not that the Skaggs are roasting man-flesh again. I heard the Skaggs like their meat tender. Or even veal," he said, slowly turning towards Arya, and Carl who was standing by her side. "Some maesters say they prefer boy meat, though I think they prefer girl meat instead."
Arya's eyes rolled in their sockets. The Greatjon tended to be in a sullen mood now that his rum rations had been restricted. Lady Andrea had wanted no rum for the Greatjon at all, until Arya convinced her in public that it would not be a good idea, and that was the one time the Greatjon seemed to be grateful. Still the Greatjon stared daggers at Arya and Carl and Lady Andrea when he thought they weren't looking, and took every chance to get a few digs in whenever discussions occurred.
Carl tapped the holster by his side. "Veal won't be on the menu today. But they're welcome to try eating lead," he warned.
"Or we could use cattle prods. Those work quite well on primitive peoples, last I saw." Though the Skagosi were not who Arya had in mind.
The Greatjon started to speak, but his trap slammed shut again when Lady Andrea brushed back her longcoat to reveal the cattle prod by her side. Works quite well on primitive peoples, indeed.
Lord Karstark broke the awkward silence that followed. "The Skaggs underpaid their taxes to Winterfell for more than a century and we will collect those taxes today. We'll take their dragonglass from their dead hands if need be."
Aurane Velaryon's spyglass was trained against the burning foothills which had just drifted into view. "They're having enough trouble of their own. Can't you see the two ships in the harbour? Those are pirates from Essos. Lyseni or Tyroshi, I'm not sure which."
"Could be Myrish," Lord Manderly mused. "Ships from the Three Daughters are built in the same styles. Pirates from those lands have gotten bolder since war broke out. Some were even bold enough to scout White Harbor's defenses before my galleys approached them. The ones who weren't able to flee in time pretended to be merchants trading wares, and threatened reprisals from the Free Cities if such peaceful merchants were accosted by the North."
"Peaceful merchants!" Aurane shook his head. "These are not Myrish pirates at least, those wouldn't sail thousands of miles just to loot pelts and arrowheads. They're here for slaves. It would be kinder if the pirates are Tyroshi, for the Lyseni would sell the women and children to pleasure houses-"
Arya felt a fire surge through her veins. Cannibals or no, these were Northmen who had sworn fealty to House Stark. No innocent man nor woman nor child deserved to be put in chains. And not even a criminal deserved to be forced into pleasure houses. She opened her mouth to speak but Carl interrupted before she could. Somehow he seemed even angrier. "If a 'pleasure house' is what I think it is…"
"A brothel," the Greatjon stated bluntly. "Anyway it seems all our problems have resolved themselves. The Skaggs will have fewer men when we land. A shame about their women and children-"
"Who we will rescue." Carl turned towards his admiral. "Aurane, can we catch those two ships?"
"The pirates will like as not come to us if we make ourselves known. They might feel they have the advantage when they have two ships' crews while we only have one. Feelings that might turn out to be true," Aurane warned. "Consider your choice carefully, Prince Carl. You are placing everyone on board this ship at risk."
Carl considered Aurane's words for a moment. Arya saw him look at every person assembled on the deck in turn, lips twitching as he did. "W-we fight," he finally declared. "All of us volunteered to be here, to fight the dead who are more dangerous than these pirates. We're supposed to protect those whom we lead, defend those weaker than us, not run away at the first sight of danger. If Dad were here he'd have us go after the pirates too. We ain't running."
"It is my fight," said Arya. "I had sworn to uphold the ancient freedoms and liberties of the Northmen, and the Skagosi are Northmen. They deserve to live and be free as much as I do. Who's with me?"
"I am!" "I am!" "I am!" the Northmen chanted. All except the Greatjon who kept looking around him, not knowing what to do.
Arya decided to wait no longer. "Lord Umber. Are you with us? The lifeboats are near the stern if you're afraid. I'll make sure it isn't held against you."
"The Others take us before an Umber flees," the Greatjon declared through gritted teeth.
"Good. Your big sword will do more good than that mouth of yours. I am thinking of placing you in command of the North's boarding party. Killing the pirates and saving those Northmen they took. Will you follow my orders?"
Lady Andrea shot her a worried look, but Arya was insistent on her choice. The Greatjon was more than aggressive enough for such a battle, he might even come to realise the advantages of not being so prickly to those on his side. And if he died… many better Northmen had fallen in defense of their homeland since Robb marched south. He would not be the first, and unfortunately Arya doubted he would be the last.
The Greatjon hesitated for once. "Your Grace," he finally nodded, then muttered something about preparations and stomped off.
Arya didn't know whether it was fortunate that Aurane's prediction came true. The two pirate ships left Skagos, undoubtedly having spotted their next victim. The lifeboats weren't lowered, not with the Greatjon nor with anyone else. Everyone on the Black Swan had decided to stay and fight.
"Promise me to stay safe," said Lady Andrea to Arya and Carl. "We can't afford to lose any of you kids, least of all you two."
"I will," said Arya. "So will I," said Carl.
Arya went to the armoury and prepared for battle. Needle as always. This time she also took a gun with her, one of those short matchlocks the Alexandrians called a 'musketoon', and buckshot ammunition to go with it. A steel helmet and a brigandine that fitted her well. Then she went back on deck and took up a spot where it would be easy to aim at enemies coming from below. The pirate ships were now close enough that Lord Manderly could make them out, Goodheart and Elephant, but it would be nearly an hour before the ships closed in. All she could do was wait.
"Do you think we'll win?" Arya dared ask Lady Andrea when the two nearly ran into each other abovedecks. She thought they would, and she would fight even if they wouldn't. But she just wanted to be sure.
Lady Andrea replied with a hearty laugh. "Have you ever wondered why we had the Crownlanders name this ship the Black Swan?"
Arya shrugged. "Dunno." Yet another word she learned from Carl.
"She's named after the black swan theory. Nothing that matters to you right now," Lady Andrea added when Arya shot her a confused look. She then pointed at the pirate ships steadily growing in size. "They will know what it is very soon."