Chapter Six: Escape from King's Landing
Harry was supposedly studying the collected ledgers detailing Littlefinger's entire financial network for any final opportunities presented by Baelish's capture. Instead he was reviewing Archmage Potter's notes on magical combat within the Grimoire. The extensive treatise discussed when to shield and what factors should decide which shield to use. There were indicators to look for in your opponent that were matched with combinations of jinxes, hexes, and curses. Some spells could be cast in quick succession based on their wand movements and mental visualizations or incantations. There was a section that indicated specific situations where larger scale spells or transfiguration should be used. He had read it all before and spent many nights in the Grimoire's realm and days in the woods surrounding Ironoaks practicing. Now in the cabin he was stringing together wand motions and flourishes to refresh his muscle memory and get used to the movements in plate mail, even dramatically lightened from activated runic arrays.
The teen wizard was still in his plate armor because he couldn't know what he might face. One of Potter's listed strategies called for him to transfigure debris into animalistic constructs and animate them to attack an opponent. If he could do something physical why couldn't an opponent. Pycelle might also manage to call soldiers to his defense. Best to be prepared for anything. When the moon had advanced far enough into the sky to indicate midnight, Harry set aside his Grimoire and began to prepare. He again went through the process of magically disguising himself with transfiguration and glamour. Harry also downed one of his alertness potions since his extremely long day had worn him down.
Heavily cloaked and apparently garbed in dragon hide with glowing curse green eyes and a lightning bolt scar, he next considered his route. He would teleport into the dragon bone room then sneak into the Rookery. If he got the jump on Pycelle then he would incapacitate him, search his mind, and then raid the Grand Maester quarters for anything useful. If he must fight the maester he would prefer to do it in privacy so Harry spelled a large bore fish hook into a portkey aligned with the key in the Red Keep's basement. With it's barb and curve it would stick to the maester's clothing or skin long enough for him to say the activation phrase.
He next pulled back the floor rug in the Captain's ship-width cabin until there was enough space for him to arrive with Pycelle. With practiced strokes from his newly claimed valyrian steel dagger (since he would not return it to the worthless king and it had no other rightful owner) he carved another key into the wood planks of the galley. Harry planned to leave the floor and the key uncovered. He would warn the Captain against entering the cabin until he returned. His last preparation was to prepare a crude method for Ser Nerris to alert him to any situations on the ship.
Harry felt a great urgency to flee the capital, as if their ship had a giant target on it. Corrupt gold cloaks could want to search it to confiscate Littlefinger's gold. It was also possible the many sellswords and hired strongmen that observed them collecting the accumulated wealth might also make a play for a hefty payday. Even ships from the Royal fleet might be set upon them by any number of power mongers who could see an angle. Ser Hardyng could even imagine Lord Stark arriving to reclaim him as a prisoner. So until Harry learned to enchant objects for his own purposes, he must use the versatile Tracking charm for rudimentary communication.
The charm, which gave it's caster a keen intuition about the direction needed to travel to find what was being tracked, had two variations. The first was for living beings, and Harry had used it quite frequently while hunting. The second form of the charm was to track inanimate objects. Both would provide this artificial sense of direction for up to twelve hours depending how much mana he forced into the spell. And most importantly for tonight, breaking or killing what was being tracked would break the charm.
So Harry placed the Indigatio charm on a blank sheet of parchment that should last eight hours. He called for Ser Nerris to be brought to his cabin in his fake gravelly voice. Then peaking his head out through the cracked door he told the captain that he, Wizard Potter, would be taking Ser Harold on a mission this night to retrieve one more prisoner. He gave the man the charmed page with the instruction to rip it if he should need either wizard or knight while they were away. If such a need occurred he was to leave a sailor with a message at the door to update them upon their arrival. None one was to enter the cabin until they returned or else die a most horrible death. Harry was starting to find humor in the nervous look everyone gave him when he made threats like that.
Harry then closed the door and cast the Colloportus charm, sealing the door into a solid wall. Casting yet another spell without even leaving the ship made Harry worry. He was still a growing wizard not yet at his full potential, and he had already tapped into a solid percentage of his magical reserves. He said a quick prayer to the Warrior that he would not find out what happens should he use up all his magic this night. Harry then disillusioned and silenced himself before disappearing with a crack.
HP - aSoIaF
Wizard Potter stood in the ground floor library of the Rookery. He had easily snuck to the four story tower abutted to a corner of the Red Keep's curtain wall. The lock was easily bypassed and upon entering he made his final preparations. He had disguised his heater shield of painted wood reinforced with alternating layers of hide with the Potter crest of rampant Phoenix over crossed swords on a golden field. It was now charmed feather weight while it's straps were transfigured snugly to his right forearm so he could grasp and manipulate his wand without infringement. He cast charms on himself to enhance his hearing and sense of smell then placed on his t-gapped Barbute helmet over the plate gorget. He wore that style helm instead of the Great Helm designed to be worn with his plate because it left his mouth and nose open for casting and smelling as well as did not block his peripheral vision as much as the heavier helm.
With wand in hand and the hook portkey grasped firmly in his plate gauntlet covered in a thin layer of faux dragon hide he climbed the stairs, quietly seeking out the maester. As he reached the third floor he entered a large circular room that took up the entire width of the tower. Opposite the door was a wooden ladder that rose up to a wooden structure that housed the raven cotes directly beneath the tower's roof. Though he had taken every precaution he could think of, the full unkindness was awake and raising a cacophony of caws and squawks that had woken Grand Maester Pycelle. Rubbing his eyes in his rich sleeping shift the man's long white hair and beard whipped around his startled face as he first noticed Harry's presence.
The startled Maester reacted quickly as Harry rushed across the room. Through some mechanism of shifting full body poses and an incantation he cast a spell, and seeing his actions Harry cast a Protego shield in response. The maester's first move seemed to encase his body in a glowing clear blue cover beneath his clothing while Harry's similarly hued transparent shield encompassed his heater shield as well as two feet beyond it's outer edge. Now that both knew that magic was to be the medium of conflict the Maester confidently asked his name and what he was doing sneaking into his tower.
"I am called Potter, and I am here to see you receive justice. You have broken your code as a healer for Lannister gold. I will not allow your crimes to continue on any longer," he declaimed gruffly. As Pycelle questioned what the hell he was going to do with a fish hook, Harry tossed the portkey lightly up before him then hit it with a Banishing charm. The hook hurtled towards Pycelle who scoffed that his Maegi armor couldn't be breached by such a feeble projectile. Harry smiled at his arrogance, as his hook snagged firmly to the man's night shift. Then he spoke the activation code. The shocked maester glowed a different blue for a second before spinning away into a teleportation portal.
Harry quickly drew his sword and apparated after the self-proclaimed Maegi hoping to use the dispersion feature of the teleportation keys to knock Pycelle to the ground. He was not disappointed as he reoriented himself to his new location and saw the maester sprawled out on his back six feet away. Laying on his back yet still maneuvering and chanting, Pycelle caused a sickly green arrow dripping acid to be conjured and streak toward Harry. He deflected the projectile away with a hurriedly recast Protego shield, surprised at the sudden assault. Luckily his magic reflecting shield held against the unknown spell and sent the acid arrow back towards the Maegi but above his prone form to collide with a dragon skull that proved resistant to whatever damage it was supposed to inflict.
The maester had not paused in his casting as Harry defended himself. As the armored wizard rushed to strike the now kneeling maester with the flat of his blade he seemed to be praying in High Valyrian. Harry's blade struck the white bearded maegi in the temple but reacted with his glowing blue aura as if it had struck a steel helmet. Pycelle reared back from the blow, but his prayers were answered as a cone of purple light surrounded him. Immediately it felt as if Harry was being effected by a powerful Notice-me-not charm. Knowing he was still in a fight and not wanting to be blind-sided with a spell he might not notice he dropped his shield charm and teleported across the room to gain space.
Pycelle used the lull to stand and chant and pose in a second prayer which bestowed upon him another bath of light that lingered over his head in a golden orb shaped halo. Harry recast the Disillusionment charm that he had used to sneak into the rookery. Now unable to clearly spot his opponent but having a general idea of his location due to the pop of his teleportation, Pycelle broke his purple ward and conjured a grease slick in the vicinity of Harry's location. The knighted wizard quickly cast a stunning hex to test the Maegi's shield against his spells rather than physical weapons.
Pycelle, moving quicker than Harry would have expected, and dove below his red mana bolt. Unfortunately in casting his spell he had shifted his platemail boots and was upended very jarringly on the slick viscous gel. As he tried to right himself and stand the Maester had already risen and conjured a dagger of flame as well as a palm sized orb of fire which he had cocked to throw as he slowly strode toward Harry. Surrounded by a flammable grease, the young wizard-knight was very worried about being set a flame and really testing the temperature control runes of his armor. So Harry, from a seated position, conjured a powerful jet of water and blasted the advancing maester.
His armor and halo seemed to shield him slightly from the impact but Pycelle's conjured flames were doused. Still trying to set Harry ablaze, the drenched maester cast a new spell which generated a cone of orange hued flames eight feet beyond his outstretched palm. The white-haired Maegi's movements and chanting were too slow though and now kneeling, the Wizard cast the Empyreus Obex shield at the outer edge of the grease slick, which blocked the path of the conjured flames with a barrier of even hotter blue flames, all while keeping a healthy gap beyond the flammable grease. As the cone of fire crashed against his free standing barrier it absorbed Pycelle's spell, growing even hotter and forcing the maester to step back from the barrier, buying even more time. Harry quickly transfigured the grease at his feat into a gritty stone slab which would give him purchase even with residual grease still clinging to his boot bottoms.
Stuck in position lest he slip again Harry took advantage of his ability to get spells off quicker than the elderly Maegi and snapped off two hexes and two jinxes in a combination as Pycelle cast his next spell. Pycelle was struck with three of the mana bolts and found himself unable to bend his knees and struck blind and silent. Harry meanwhile was dodging five whitish blue projectiles that pursued him with a mind of their own. When he succeeded in throwing up another Protego shield just before they struck him, three of the missiles dodged around his defense to strike him through his armor in his shoulder, side, and thigh. The two he did block rebounded across the room to strike a wall to no effect since trying to catch all of the magic missiles resulted in none of them being returned in their caster's direction.
Gritting his teeth over the three, inch deep narrow punctures, Harry continued to cast, paralyzing and deafening the beleaguered maester. He then cast one of his few first aid spells, Adligo Vulnero which closed the stab wounds without fixing the deeper damage. He sheathed his sword and retrieved a regeneration potion to finish his healing efforts in an hour or two. Next he transfigured a path through the grease to approach the nearly insensate Pycelle. Harry retrieved the siphoning manacles from the sack at his waist and affixed them to the incapacitated old man's hands and ankles. He took a few deep breaths to center himself and try to gauge his strength and mana reserves.
Harry definitely felt magically spent but his attention elixir was still in effect. He knew he would be ready to tackle any surprises that still might try to prevent him from leaving this dangerous city. It was time to skim Pycelle's mind just as he had done to Baelish to see what he should recover from the Rookery. Harry wasted a bit of mana figuring out that Pycelle's golden halo protected his mind even still. He counted himself lucky that his hexes were not similarly barred by this mind shield. It was resistant to his general dispelling, either requiring a specific counter or else the nature of the spell prevented tampering. Fortunately the protection faltered on its own after another ten minutes of waiting and Harry was able to dive in.
HP - aSoIaF
It had been two hours since Harry won his first magical duel, and he had been hard at work. After raiding Pycelle's mind for information on the Rookery, Harry had forced him to swallow the sleeping draught before hiding him behind a skull and under a conjured black sheet. He then climbed back up to the Rookery only to find the door wide open. He heard two red cloaked Lannister men-at-arms climbing the staircase ahead of him. In the stairwell he stunned the first man in the back, though his red hex seemed to diminish in passing through the soldiers steel breast plate.
The second man-at-arms, already alert from investigating the unlocked door and bothersome racket of the awakened ravens, leapt into action. He swung his broadsword down on Harry who had no drawn weapon other than his wand, since he hadn't expected to face anymore combat. Ser Hardyng was forced to shield with his wand arm while retreating back down the stairs, narrowly avoiding tripping on the soldier already sprawled on the steps at his feet.
The Lannister sworn sword was relentless, trying to bull rush Harry and prevent him from ever drawing a weapon to make it a fight. Once the black cloaked wizard made it back to the first floor landing he was able to draw his dagger while continuing to block the red cloak's aggressive slashes on his heater shield. Harry feinted with his dagger and the men-at-arms moved to block what he perceived as the greater threat. Instead Harry managed to snap off the Alerte Ascandere jinx which rocketed the soldier up in the air smashing his helmeted head against the wooden ceiling, though not hard enough to breach his helmet or break his neck.
Startled at the yellow bolt which defied logic as well as a head rattling blow to his pate, upon landing the shocked red cloak was not prepared for Harry's valyrian steel dagger to pierce his boiled leather gauntlet forcing him to drop his sword. Nor for the shield charge that set him on his ass. The green-eyed wizard, now with a second to think hit the armsmen with a stunning spell. He then cast animation charms on both soldiers' armor to walk them back out beyond the Rookery's front door. After countering the animation and judicious use of the Obliviation Curse followed by the Enervation counter-hex, Harry was able to shut and lock the Rookery and get on with the night's remaining business.
Approaching magical exhaustion but still alert thanks to his potion he refrained from casting as he went about with a rucksack found in the towers' second floor kitchen. He first loaded up the maester's herbs, potions, and elixirs. Most for alchemical study but one milky white serum would be integral to his plans, as it made people biddable and giddy without appearing impaired. A perfect combination to lead prisoners to spill all of their secrets in court or during an interrogation.
Next Harry filled the large potato sack with quite a few rare or obscure books and pamphlets that the Grand Maester had accumulated in his long years of serving Kings and now a Queen. Unfortunately none of them were the ancient works from Old Valyria that Pycelle had used to gain his arcane knowledge. Those were housed in strong and secret vaults in the Maester's Citadel in Oldtown. Harry would have to steal those secrets from the man's mind if he wanted to learn them. It was something he would need to discuss with the Grimoire, as the book had cautioned him away from learning non-wizard methods of magic as it would dilute his already limited time for study.
Finally Harry returned to Pycelle's personal quarters where he added a change of clothes and the maester's chains of his office. To throw people off the scent he also hid a travel chest and many clothes in the chute below the tower's third floor privy. To anyone investigating they might think Pycelle left of his own volition until the clog in the sewage was discovered. The room also contained the Grand Maester's desk where he read and filtered the many notes that traveled to the Red Keep by raven. Harry sat down at the desk and began reading, selecting an occasional a note to keep for himself that contained information regarding the Vale or the brewing conflict between well armed "brigands" and Riverland forces.
As he sifted through the everyday messages from the breadth of the Seven Kingdoms Harry felt very strongly that he was missing something important. It was the feeling of having an idea or word stuck at the tip of one's tongue and it would not go away despite his attempts to concentrate on the Kingdom's correspondence. And like a lightning bolt it finally hit him. He could no longer feel his tracking charm.
HP - aSoIaF
Harry was panicking just a bit. He was wracking his brain for how long it had been since he had last felt the location of the parchment aboard the Vale galley. He was also wondering what to do next. As well as cursing himself for not being more studious and working out a better form of distance communication than he had. After what felt like minutes but was probably only a few seconds, his Occlumency constructs kicked in and started to filter his rampant thoughts and emotions into his mental barriers, allowing him to focus on the problem at hand.
Harry was out of time at the Rookery, and probably King's Landing in general. He needed to determine what the exact situation was and then strategize how to get the Royces onto his ship and the galley sailing back to the Vale. So Harry threw the entire stack of missives into his loot sack, applied a cushioning charm to the bag, then spelled it into a portkey that would depart immediately no timer or activation phrase required. The black cloaked wizard then apparated to his white bearded prisoner in the dragon skull room.
Once there he took a second to reorient himself as well as note his mana reserves. His core had recovered somewhat in the hours he spent searching the Rookery so he felt up to another struggle on the galley if necessary. He hit the already cuffed and potioned Maester with a Feather-weight charm and hefted the wrinkled old traitor over his shoulder before casting another teleportation charm hurtling them both to the Captain's sealed cabin. He eased the manacled prisoner to floor and looked around the room.
Not wanting to deal with any questions he transfigured his conjured black sheet into a full body wrapping that completely hid Pycelle's identity but did leave his mouth and nose exposed less he suffocate. Noting the rucksack shoved against the Captain's bolted down bed, Harry cast the Alohamora counter-charm to his locking spell, transforming the solid wall back into it's original state.
He flung the door open revealing the ship's cook/quartermaster nervously pacing the narrow corridor that housed the first mates cabin on one side and the fighting sailors' cramped bunks on the other. At the sound of the door opening the short middle-aged seaman almost tripped on the locked hatch that led to the rowing sub level and the cargo space below. Quailing at his dangerous and magical appearance the crewman hurriedly spit out what was going on with the ship.
About forty five minutes ago the dawn watch had spotted eight long rowboats full of armed, leather-clad men using the Blackwater's current to rush their ship. Captain Nerris had attempted to rouse the oarsmen and raise anchor while his sailors and the Arryn men-at-arms readied the ship to be boarded as well as use the ships arsenal of scorpions and bows to drive off the pirates. Ser Nerris had gotten the ship prepared for a fight, but dragging the anchor along the river bed had slowed them enough for their attackers to get in range to throw boarding hooks.
Last he had heard, they were trying to keep distance between the attacking longships by rowing out into the bay. But despite them thinning the ranks against them, with more and more grappling hooks finding purchase, they wouldn't be able to escape. The First mate was also trying to signal for assistance from other ships at anchor but none would risk being boarded as well and were making a run for the bay ahead of them.
Harry stopped the now babbling crewman so he could think. Even with the crew joining his soldiers the numbers against them were too many. Since none of his forces were as crazy as the Ironborn to wear heavy metal armor on a ship, wooden kite shields and boiled leather would be their only defense and against similarly garbed opponents. Numbers would win out. Harry could easily step above and launch a few fireballs to end this attack, but that would reveal to the entire harbor that there was a magic user on board. Something like that would bring intense scrutiny that would likely result in them being boarded by the gold cloaks or the royal navy. And their high level prisoners revealed.
Since these attackers were after something on the ship, probably Baelish's gold, they would need to leave the ship intact less they sink what they wanted to steal. It was also likely that these men lacking banners would be mostly mercenaries and brigands, averse to risking their lives unnecessarily. With only a few real options open to him Harry quickly settled onto a plan.
"Go above immediately and tell Captain Nerris as well as Sergeant Gardan that I will soon return with Ser Harold as well as a sizable party of well armored knights that will cut through these pirates like the scum that they are. He is to inflict as much damage on them as possible, but once they get numbers aboard he is to stall them. Let them think he is considering surrendering. I also want the lower levels blocked off and locked. Keep the brigands on the deck. Even if he can't slow them with words, they are to guard the sterncastle and this hatch with their lives. Reinforcements will arrive in half an hour. Jump to it sailor," he yelled to get the man moving.
He then unlocked the hatch and called below for assistance. A few of the servants returning to the Vale responded telling him that the oarsmen were busy. Not knowing who he was but awed by his dramatic appearance they asked him what his commands were. He quickly levitated both shrouded Pycelle and the rucksack from the Rookery down to the passengers and commanded them to secure both in the bilge then aid the oarsmen in barricading the lower levels from attack. Harry then shut the hatch and cast the Colloportus charm once again sealing them below decks as long as the larger hatches surrounding the mast were shut and locked as well.
Harry then rushed back into the small galley adjacent to the First mates cabin and cast about for a likely object to make a bigger portkey. He spotted a mostly empty water barrel and with pinpoint precision shrunk the wooden slats leaving the metal hoops that bound the barrel to clatter to the ground. He grabbed the largest hoop and rushed back to Nerris's room. The wizard knew that the room was too small for his purposes so he cast the Space Expansion charm to expand the dimensions of the room two fold. It would only last an hour but he reasoned that he better be back before then anyway. It also was a big draw on his reserves, and he knew that he did not have many spells left in him. Then with great urgency Harry apparated to the key he had left with Willum Royce. Harry arrived in his squire's small room with a pop that woke the young man.
"Willum, there is no time to explain. I am the Wizard Potter that Ser Harold has mentioned. I will be brining him here shortly. You must rouse your grandfather's household immediately then return to receive instruction from Harold himself. Hurry now, we have no times to waste and lives are at stake." The boy, goggling at a wizard appearing mysteriously in his bedroom nodded emphatically before tossing his blanket aside and hopping out of his room yelling as he ran.
With the boy away Harry concentrated on the iron loop, turning it into a portkey to the now expanded Captains quarters. He next eyeballed the rug in his squire's guest room. It would fit in the cabin even after his expansion charm expired. Knowing that they would likely need to leave King's Landing with the dawn, he spelled the rug as a portkey on a two hour timer as well. He didn't want knowledge of password initiated portkeys to spread any further than needed. As soon as the spell left his wand he felt a fatigue he had never experienced and couldn't really locate in his body.
Harry could guess what this meant. His reserves were spent. But he needed one more spell and dispelled his Mage Potter disguise, leaving him there dressed as he had been throughout the day. Harry felt like he was running on fumes. His mind and muscles were still game if barely but that indefinable deep tiredness weighed him down. When it came time for battle he would need potions. He sat on Willum's bed waiting for Yohn and Robyr to arrive. They soon entered the room along with two armed men-at-arms and their squires.
"What is the meaning of this Ser? Barging into my house hours before dawn and waking us from slumber. Explain?" Lord Royce commanded.
"I apologize for the late or rather early hour. I hope you recognize my dire need to disturb you at such a time. I must confess I have not been entirely honest with you about the nature of my trip to the capital. I am not here to wrap up some of Lord Jon's business affairs nor to seek a maiden to court as I have suggested. Those were subterfuges to hide my real mission. To capture the conspirators which poisoned my great uncle Jon Arryn and return with them to the Eyrie for trial." There were gasps and dubious looks around the room in response to his revelation.
"Jon died of a sickness and old age. What is this talk of murder," asked Robyr.
"No! As Hand of the King he encountered a mystery that he could not set aside. It led to him discovering the secrets of dangerous and powerful people. Four had reason to end his life. One is held in the Eyrie. One is currently beyond my ability to capture. And two are held prisoner by my escort right now. It is those two that lead me here tonight."
"I found myself under attack by a larger force of sellswords and ruffians. An ally to my family brought me here to gather a relief force. Even as we speak my soldiers are fighting to defend their position. I call on you now as knights and men of the Vale to quickly arm yourself so we can crush these brigands that would thwart justice for our fallen Lord Jon. It is also my hope that you will join me in returning to the Vale on my ship to add your might as well as your renowned name to this cause Lord Royce, Ser Royce," he tiredly pleaded.
Bronze Yohn was a man of action and so sent his son and squires to ready their men as well as return with his own famous armor and weapons. But he was also an experienced ruler and noted the omissions in Ser Hardyng's plea. "I understand the urgency but there is more to tell. How did this ally get you to me when you were surrounded. And who are the prisoners? I must know this before I commit my family to your aid." Yohn narrowed his eyes and tried willing Harry to tell him what he wanted to know.
Harry understood, even expected questions. This was a critical moment for him. He needed Lord Royce as an ally not only tonight, but for a long time to come if he were to hold sway in the Vale of his forefathers. He opened his mouth to reveal his magic and found he could not speak the words. The Fidelius charm, how could he forget.
"The ally is a powerful wizard named Potter. He claims to owe a great debt to House Arryn but will not speak of how or when it was incurred. But his assistance has proven invaluable on this mission. Not only could he transport me through the ether from the battlefield to your house, but he entered the minds of the conspirators and ripped open their secrets. I did not believe at first that any of this was possible. But he led us to secret caches of evidence and stolen gold that guesses and mummer's tricks couldn't have found in a hundred years. And tonight I felt the touch of his magic personally in my trip here. His power is real, and for whatever his reasons, his aid is also real. I hope a Lord known for wearing ancient bronze armor stronger than any steel forged in Runestone would not deny the possibility of the supernatural?" Harry asked wryly, smiling a bit to relieve some of the tension that his passive read of Lord Royce were detecting.
Despite the commotion echoing through the house of scrambling servants, squires, and soldiers, Yohn Royce stroked his chin in thought. Even in his night clothes he bore an air of command. He finally nodded, decided Harry was telling him the truth. "And the prisoners? What sort of enemies will be made for House Royce come sunrise? They must be substantial if you've carried out your task in secrecy and incurred armed resistance."
"Yes, please, I ask that this stays between us until we are well on our way passed Dragonstone and the Royal Fleet that anchors there. In the Eyrie is the instrument of murder, Lysa Arryn nee Tully who loved outside her marriage bed and wouldn't allow her bastard son to be fostered away from her. In King's Landing I captured her lover and the plot's mastermind, who supplied the poison and orchestrated the deceptions that followed. The Master of Coin, Paetyr Baelish."
"As well, with great aid from Wizard Potter this night, we captured Grand Maester Pycelle who ensured Lord Jon's death when his personal Maester Colemon began to succeed in curing our liege lord. He played the role of healer while speeding his death and silencing him. All for gold and favors," he confessed with disgust.
"And the last, the one you fear to speak. Don't deny it, I've lived long enough to recognize that look on the faces of young men." While his words were jesting his face was grim.
"I am not sure it is safe to say. When I warned Lord Stark away from the mystery that set Lord Jon's enemies into motion, I would not reveal this last schemer. Not even when he imprisoned me for a few hours before (I)...the wizard broke me out. Could you wait to learn it until after we set sail?"
"You would tell me what you wouldn't tell the Hand?" he asked incredulously.
"Yes. I do not know the Hand. Nor do I wish him the same fate as his foster father, the last Hand. It is dangerous to know. Politically dangerous," he urged with his tone for Lord Royce to drop the subject.
"That is why I feel I must know. You are coming to me for my aid. Jon Arryn was my friend and liege lord..." He was interrupted by his squire arriving with his armor. "I...we will speak of this as soon as possible. Now Edgar, once you're finished I want you at the stables in the rear. Ready my destrier with haste. Make sure horses for my son and eight men-at-arms are also being saddled."
"Lord Royce, pardon the interruption, but we will need swifter transport if we are to relieve my men. A way has been provided by Potter to move immediately from this house to the battle. But horses won't...it would not be advisable to test their reaction. It might be also smart to pack up what you want to take on the ship that will fit on this rug. He told me that in two hours time everything above the carpet would be sent aboard my galley by magic."
"Ser Harold, we are knights. We shouldn't leave our horses behind. They are trained battle mounts as well as a few won in the joust. I would not travel without them," he protested.
"I understand. I would be loathe to part with my own mounts. Yet the extraordinary means of our arrival, and the fact my galley is not setup for horses. Cannot other arrangements be made? Your household here, couldn't they arrange them to be shipped to Gulltown after we leave or they could stay here and I will recompense you for the expense of replacing them back in the Vale. Time is of the essence," he pleaded.
As his squire affixed his armor and laid out his weapons for selection Bronze Yohn planned quickly and shouted orders to his servants that stayed in this house year round. He would not part with his horses so Harry quickly handed over his very full coin pouch to pay for the Royce servants to book their transport to Gulltown. With all the gold filling the bilge he barely balked at handing over such a sum. He was also forced to guarantee their safe passage or else replace any horses that were lost or damaged.
Before long the other nine men that would join them squeezed into the room. Even as they did, Lord Royce continued to order his and his son's squires to aid the servants in loading up his effects on the carpet and not to ask questions. Harry gave specific instructions to Willum to ensure there would be no splinching accidents for the three squires that would be riding the carpet later this morning. Ser Hardyng also let the armsmen know that their opponents would only have shield and leather armor, so a few battle axes were produced to aid their success.
Not wanting to accidentally hamper the timed portkey, Harry led the group down to the house's lounge and had the two knights in platemail and eight men-at-arms either in plate or heavy chain and boiled leather gather around him. He produced the repurposed iron hoop and sternly commanded all to grab hold of the metal and not let go no matter their surprise or discomfort. Their were grumbles of dark sorcery and a few, including Robyr refused to touch the hoop.
It took Harry describing his safe travel and Lord Royce calling them superstitious cowards as well as threatening to cast them out if they wouldn't follow his orders to get everyone holding the portkey. Harry then smiled, wished them the blessings of the Warrior, and recommended they clench their bowels and gird their loins. As the men chuckled he shouted, "Hold tight until I say!" and spoke the passcode: For the Vale. In a reality bending swirl with a deafening crack that shook the house, they were away. To the incredible surprise of the smallfolk and squires whose curiosity about the strange goings on overcame their fears of the supernatural.
HP - aSoIaF
Harry was extremely glad he'd had the foresight to expand the cabin when the eleven heavily armored large men were finally released from the pull connecting their navels to their hands touching the portkey. They landed in a crash of sprawled limbs and tangled bodies. Being the most familiar with the disorienting teleportation Harry managed to stand first. He did his best to calm their shouts and complaints as the squad of knights and men-at-arms got back to their feet.
The young wizard took the opportunity of step into the sterncastle's single narrow hall first and draw his wand with his body blocking the maneuver from the men back in the cabin. He was almost completely spent, his core empty but for a few fumes of mana, his body having been awake and active since his early morning escape from the Tower of the Hand. Through the weather door separating the cabins from the deck he could hear the shouts and clashes of battle. He had to win. All his plans and dreams relied on him succeeding here. Averting war with the Lannisters, getting justice for Lord Jon, winning the support of Lord Royce, protecting the Arryn men and the ship under his command. Harry couldn't risk losing, exhausted or not.
He was in a bit of a daze, noting the Royce force arranging themselves behind him. Ser Harold had brought them here with magic. But this was truly his first taste of real combat. He had sparred and fought in melees, so he knew the horror of injuring others. Harry had seen men die, mostly sellswords in the Disputed Territories or victims of accidents or raids by the Mountain Clans. But he had never done the deed personally, and he was on his last leg. The green eyed wizard had not been idle either as the Royces armed themselves. He had a plan.
So there in the hallway, as Lord Royce and Ser Robyr called for him to lead them to the battle all the while many grumbled at the damp and shifting floor indicating they were on ship and not somewhere in King's Landing. He poked his wand into the activation rune of the Variable Weight runic array hidden beneath his sword's bindings. With his final bit of magical strength he cranked up the longsword's mass over three times normal. Ignoring the worried questions directed his way, he sheathed his wand and removed two potions, with hunched shoulders and widened his stance to cloak his actions.
Harry threw back his strength potion quickly following it with the rage draught. As he choked down the two elixirs and began to feel their effects course through his body and mind, he finally found his words.
"Lord Royce, Ser Robyr, men of Runestone! We are aboard the Gull's Dinner, galley of the Vale. Captain Nerris and Sergeant Gardan having been holding off some thirty to fifty brigands and sellswords since I came for you. I aim to sweep the scum from this ship. Any that meet me will shortly be greeting the Stranger! Form up a wedge behind me and let's shows these fools what real warriors look like! The smart ones will drown rather than face us! CHARGE!"
He probably should have waited to scout or let Lord Royce order his men, but the potions were fast acting. Harry felt powerful, but he also felt an aggression he couldn't contain. He needed to move. So with heater shield still firmly strapped to his right arm he drew his very heavy long sword with his left and started to jog to the threshold of the hallway. The door was locked from the outside but with his enhanced strength a shoulder charge saw the door flung wide.
Ahead of him was a shield wall formed by his men-at-arms. They struggled against a swarm of attackers leading with their own shields but trying to stab around them as well as drive the men back with the weight of their numbers. Harry bellowed a war cry of palpable hatred that caused a brief pause in the skirmish as the combatants noticed the new arrivals. His men recognized his blue falcon on red and white checkered pattern, so when he called for them to make a path they obliged.
Harry, still yelling loud enough to draw the Warrior's attention, started to run shield first at the line of attackers. His potion fueled body reached a great speed in the few steps he had before he met his first combatant. He knocked the man stumbling back into the press of bodies behind, even as several weapons clanged against his rune enforced platemail. Harry didn't feel or even notice the attack as his sword was already dropping from a overhand slash that connected with the shield of the man to the left of his first victim. With the power and weight behind the slash he cracked the shield and the arm underneath it.
The man couldn't help but react to the pain, and an Arryn men-at-arm took advantage by stabbing him in the neck with a short sword. But Harry took no notice. He needed to cause more damage, destroy those that stood against him. So he forged ahead swinging his shield wide to clear the weapons before him before stabbing his sword over another shield. With his strength he pierced the sellswords neck and then planted his back foot to pivot, swiping the sword in a wide slash into the leather capped skull of the next mercenary in his path.
His speed was surprising. His ferocity made his opponents hesitate in fear or at least caution. But it was his punishing blows that killed or maimed with every stroke that had the attackers shuffling back and away from him. Between his shield and enchanted armor, not even the experienced fighters that angled their attacks into blind spots or the few gaps in his own attacks could halt his onslaught. Much less injure him. The heavily armored Royces filtered into the wake of the juggernaut that proceeded them, hacking with axe and sword. The body count of the attackers sky rocketed.
The men that had boarded his ship for promises of gold, had only moments before been confident of victory as their numbers increased aboard the galley. Their comrades that were felled while shimmying up ropes and homemade ladders only increased their zeal as every one that didn't make it would increase their own share of the loot. They were pushing back the defenders, close to getting them to surrender or be cut down. But then with a yell a madman entered the fray. Many looked to the hedge knight that had organized this raid, would he just hang back while they were slaughtered.
Harry had just cleaved through a scarred tough's sword arm at the shoulder when he was confronted by his first opponent in mail. This man had a sigil on his tabard and moved with deadly grace to face him. His opponent tried approaching from his left and darting his sword for the weak point in his armor underneath his arm. Harry enjoyed the shock on the hedge knight's face when he leapt with his left leg rising to his waist bent at the knee. The stab glanced off his shin plate and passed harmlessly to the side. The wizard attempted to follow the move with falling haymaker with his right gauntlet, but the mail-clad assailant dodged backward avoiding both fist and shield edge.
"I would have you name Ser Brigand. You're the first worthy opponent I've faced. What will grace your plot in the Sept's Courtyard?!" Harry snarled. The small part of his mind that wasn't pulsing with anger recognized the man. He had been with Baelish when Harry had captured the man.
"Ser Lothor Brune. You took Lord Baelish possessions. I am taking them back." Rather than continuing to banter the self-proclaimed knight slashed wide at Harry followed by a controlled side step and stab. But Harry dealt with both attacks on his shield and swung hard overhand. Brune did not pause after his blocked strikes but staggered backwards out of the way of Harry's powerful blow which dug into deck. He couldn't take advantage though as Harry's potion fueled strength gave him the speed to reposition and loop an upward slash to waist height and then stab at backpedaling Ser Lothor.
The hedge knight could do little but defend from that point as Harry was relentless in his attacks. It was a testament to the man's skill that he hadn't been seriously hurt because Harry was pulling no punches. Space had opened up around them and he could tell many attackers had been defeated or leapt over board to escape. Their fight would end the battle. If he could just finish off this irritatingly elusive warrior. The man was extremely adept at catching his blows with his sword at angles that allowed him to deflect and move away from the attacks.
Harry had already broken the hedge knights painted shield, as well as a club he had grabbed to substitute, and gotten in a bruising stab to the man's mail protected thigh. But Brune's bladework was exceptional and prevented the full brunt of his strength and heavy weight sword from reaching his body or sword arm. The green-eyed teen knight was starting to worry his potions would lapse, and he would become vulnerable before he won. His desperation and anger spurred him on to attack harder, faster. Harry added feints as well as unconventional strikes to his punishing sword swings.
Finally Ser Lothar ran out of deck to dodge and grabbed a discarded shield to make a last ditch defense. The man was likely hoping for Harry to shield charge or take a mighty swing with his long sword so he could finally get in a counter strike other than the handful of half-strength jabbing ripostes he'd managed while redirecting his attacks. Entirely focused on winning the fight immediately, Harry did something few would ever contemplate much less try in platemail. He charged and at his final step he kicked out chest high with his left boot. It cracked the shield and pushed the man back in the wooden railing.
Brune's return swing was diminished as his body weight was thrust backwards by the powerful front kick so when his sword met Harry's shield it was the sword that was pushed back and out of the knight's grip with a jarring block. Brune had likely broken a rib on the gunwall despite his mail. Harry swung overhand again, but anticipated Ser Lothar dodging. The hedge knight already off balance and moving aside in sheer desperation had no more moves left. Harry's strengthened legs made quicker by potion, again realigned so his purposefully missing down stroke could turn into a powerful full body upstroke. He would split the man from crotch to waist with no chain links guarding between his legs.
"Ser Hardyng! NO! Take him prisoner! We must question him!" shouted Lord Royce with urgency.
Harry finally heard what others had probably been shouting at him for minutes. He heard because his potions were ebbing. His last blows draining the last unnatural power from his limbs and mind. So he changed the angle of his suddenly heavy long sword and with the last of his strength introduced Ser Lothor's uncovered chin to the pommel of his sword. The blow was enough to knock the man's helmeted head back and close his eyes. Harry stepped back, to allow his men to grabbed the concussed hedge knight. But it proved unnecessary as the man collapsed forward unconscious.
Swaying with bone-numbing exhaustion Harry called out quietly, "Ser Nerris, Gardan, Lord Royce...I am...tired." And like a great tree felled by a final axe blow Ser Harold fell to the deck as well, sound asleep. The surrounding soldiers who had witnessed his rage fueled rampage across the ship looked on to the blood drenched yet softly snoring knight in utter shock. That is before Lord Royce began to chuckle at the sheer absurdity of the situation. Laughs and grins were shared by all still able amongst the Valemen for a few beats before the stern Captain Nerris brought attention back to their prisoners with a few shouts at his men. The noble Royces offered to carry Ser Hardyng to the First Mate's cabin, both wanting to avoid the cabin of their magical arrival for as long as possible.
