Wild Wolf

by Vimesenthusiast

Fed up with life in Nerima, Ranma runs away, only to be followed by Happosai, who has a magic scroll he want to try out. It works but Ranma suddenly finds himself in Westeros replacing the champion chosen by the old gods in a time of great peril for humanity. How will the world change with the Wild Wolf raised in the den of wolves? A lot. Thanks to Naj. P. Jackson for the picture.

18. Chapter 18

Wild Wolf 18

I don't own ASoIaF or Ranma 1/2. Whimper…

Merry Christmas! Well, an early gift for you anyway.

I was almost tempted to go with 'Two Dragons, a Stag and a Direwolf walk into a bar' as the title of this one, but decided against it.

As Always would like to thank Anthony444 for his aid in this, he helps keep all the disparate characters in order and is a font of ASoIaF wisdom. Now without further ado, let us begin:

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Chapter 18: The Judge of Kings

Sansa stood next to Lord Manderly in the Merman's Court, her hand resting lightly on his shoulder where he sat on his lord's seat, leaning to one side indolently a wide, almost vacuous smile on his face, though that was the only sign of his normal fool's mask. Above that smile his eyes were hard and shrewd as he looked over his 'court' before looking up at Sansa, who smiled down at him, causing his face to settle into a normal smile of his own.

While Lord Manderly had been somewhat surprised at the news that Sansa was being sent to Riverrun to become the new Lady Tully, Lady of Riverrun and first among the Lords of the Rivers, he had understood what a shrewd move it was, and approved. Riverrun wasn't a big city, more a large town really, but it was a decent manufacturing point for wool, cotton, and other clothing. It and the lands around it were a fine source of manpower too.

The benefits of putting another city under the direct control of someone whose loyalty you could trust implicitly, and who further tied it into the royal family even if once removed was also excellent. Tying House Tully, and by extension House Stark and the new Royal House (whose name Manderly thought rather silly, but there were SO MANY Houses that was true for it wasn't worth mentioning) to another powerful noble House was also a magnificent political ploy.

Sending her down to me for training in city management however, that was something I did not see coming. Lord Stark had sent Sansa down to White Harbor by way of the White Knife with a force of a hundred men five days ago, with the suggestion that Wyman start to train her in the skills necessary to run a city. This included managing the disparate interest groups without showing any one group favor, managing relations with the smallfolk, passing judgement, setting tax rates, making certain the upkeep of the defenses and the town was generally kept as clean as possible, and several other skills.

Wyman had always suspected that Sansa was a good deal more intelligent than most thought underneath her training as a typical noblewoman despite her enjoyment in such, but the past few days had proven it beyond a doubt. She had taken to her lessons like a seal to water! She was personable, outgoing, insightful, and was quickly learning to become decisive in her decision making. Wyman had enjoyed their time together immensely, and was sad the time had come to bid her farewell.

At his nod, his seneschal opened the door to the Merman's court ushering in their guests with a loud, "Edmund Blackwood of Raventree Hall, and Eddard Karstark of Karhold!" At those words the two men entered, side by side.

Edd was a decently tall young man, with the wide shoulders of a warrior, the dark eyes and wild hair of his family, and a small, yet unkempt goatee which had not been there the last time Sansa had seen him. He still had laugh lines around his eyes and mouth, but his face in general had become weathered.

In contrast, Edmund was clean-shaven and spare of frame, taller than Edd but not nearly as bulky across the shoulders, with a thin, angular face with high cheekbones, almost feminine but yet in some fashion also undeniably masculine, odd though that seemed. He had long fingers and tanned hands, and seemed as weathered as his companion. Sansa found herself blushing for a moment. He is a handsome fellow…

Both men bowed to Lord Manderly, but their eyes strayed to where Sansa was standing next to him, Eddy's eyes wide and delighted, while Edmund looked almost but not quite shy. Sansa found herself smiling openly now. This looks to be fun…

"Welcome young friends to the Merman's Court!" Wyman boomed. "Welcome to the North young Edmund, and welcome back young Edd! I have been apprised of why you have come, and Lord Stark, acting on his father's advice of course, has agreed to his brother, his majesty's, commands in that area gladly. As Edd know doubt already knows, beside me is the Lady Sansa Stark, she who will become Lady Tully at her investiture in Riverrun."

Ranma's actual status in terms of lord Paramount of the North was a grey area at this point. By age old 'custom', a King of Westeros could not also be a Lord Paramount except for the Crownlands, which in Wyman's view was one reason why the power structure of Westeros hadn't changed much before this current war. Considering the rumors that had begun to reach Wyman's ears of the losses among Ranma's enemies and even further south however, along with the sweeping reforms Ranma and his queen had begun to enact, that had already changed.

But until he had beaten all the other claimants, Ranma was technically not king yet, so could act as Lord Stark, and had when telling his family about his plans for Sansa, though couched as they were in gentle language. So Bran would, very technically, become Lord Stark after Ranma became king. But of course his father was acting in his stead, freeing Bran to work on other projects.

Wyman laughed, a booming sound, but his eyes were still and judging as he looked at the youths. "Of course, just because the Lady is here does not mean you'll be able to turn around and start your journey back immediately. You'll still have to head up to Winterfell to present yourselves to her family, though Sansa will go back with you. Eddard is eager to get firsthand accounts of his son's campaigns in the Riverlands, and of course Lady Catelyn is equally interested in meeting you both."

Edd and Edmund both winced slightly, causing Wyman to laugh again, while Sansa giggled at his side, though her eyes too were still looking at both men with interest.

OOOOOOO

Outside, the army camp was a scene of hectic but controlled activity, as the various units of the army began to pull out of the camp. First were the men heading north under Timot Hammerhand: the pike regiment from House Cerwyn, and the assigned northern cavalry, a force of a little over three thousand men. Quickly on their heels was the force under Tristan, heading straight for House Butterwell's as yet unnamed castle, a force of seven hundred.

Daryn and his unit, a mix of scouts, mountain clansmen, with a smattering of archers from his own house numbering about a thousand-six hundred, was next. Tytos and Meera were slower to get on the way, and by the time they were ready most of the camp had been taken down. Tytos and his force of a little under 2,000 cut across into the forest nearby, heading around the shore of the God's Eye down towards the Kingsroad. This left a force of 17,000 or so thanks to the addition of House Wayn's troops and four hundred men from House Charlton.

As each group left, Ranma and Daenerys bade their commander's farewell, shaking hands and watching them go. Dacey, Rickard, Jason and Greatjon soon joined them after Tytos left, Ranma's four most trusted and senior commanders. Rickard shook his head. "I'd never have believed that an army could separate like this so quickly from camp, the various units getting underway so fast. You and your brother have done marvels with organizing the armies supply situation Ranma, but it's moments like these that I realize those changes spread to other areas of the army's effectiveness."

Ranma smirked a little, smiling internally. The difference between soldiers and warriors. A soldier can be a warrior, but the name 'soldier' implies a certain level of organization and unit cohesion that warriors lack. "It's not the only advantage uncle." He gestured with one hand towards some heavily laden mules that had been purchased in Riverrun, a small sample of the mules they had bought there really, since they had bought every single one that was in the city and practically every horse as well, leaving only the oxen behind. "Those are going to come as a nasty surprise."

Daenerys nodded looking over to where he was pointing. Those particular mules were carrying the surprise that had been prepared in Seagard, but she was more concerned about something else entirely. "Yes, but I think the heavy cloaks and other gear we've gotten since taking Harroway from further north will be even more important as autumn continues." Practically every other day there was a small or large storm, and many soldiers had been noted to remark that it was noticeably colder since the battle of the Ruby Ford.

"Yep." Ranma said smiling grimly. "Stannis might've thought about it, but I doubt your brother has. And since Stannis has to deal with the Reach forces under his command now, his own supplies will have been stretched thin. Not so much in terms of food, but everything else. Waging war in autumn is a different kettle of fish than in the summer. Disease and other issues will start to rear their heads soon for any unprepared army."

Greatjon grunted, rubbing at the stump of his ear in a gesture he'd picked up since the battle in Darry. "I have to wonder if Stannis is going to play to your tune, lad. He'd hurt us badly by simply ignoring our army and taking Harroway behind us."

Thanks to its more central location Harroway was actually more important logistically speaking than Riverrun. Riverrun was now creating many of the goods that came forward with the army, and a surplus of said was building up in Harroway. But Harroway was the hub of both that traffic and traffic from Seagard and further north, though of course that line of supply was far slower than the other two.

"True, and if I was Stannis that'd be what I'd do. But remember, his force consists of Stormlands and Reach forces, and both those nations are having issues at home. Whether or not he likes to admit it, Stannis'll be dealing with a lot of internal pressure to see to us quickly, and then turn around and head back South. Besides, taking Duskendale from him will have much the same impact that taking Harroway from us would in the long run."

What Ranma didn't say aloud was that very few lords thought in terms of logistics and supply. Stannis was one, but even he wouldn't be really able to think of terms of a strategy based off interdicting his opponent's logistics capacity. Greatjon wouldn't have thought of it either before this campaign, where Ranma showed that supplies and logistics mattered both in terms of targets and in terms of an army's strength.

"Besides, I already cut orders for Timot to remain at Harroway with his force for a few days. The troops could use some down time, and they'll make up the time later on using water travel from the supply depot by the Neck up to White Harbor."

Daenerys broke in then. "And the further into the Riverlands Stannis goes, the further from his own supply points he gets. If he has to fight in the Riverlands he'll have to live off the land, and most of the lands south of the Red Fork have already felt the depredations of war."

"True, but Stannis is too smart to believe he can take Harroway away from us. He might not have much of an idea of what the pikes can do, but I bet he knows about the speed of our army, and he won't want to give us the opportunity to come up from behind him like Daenerys said, pinning him at Harroway."

"And we're forgetting my brother my lords. Maidenpool is closer to Harroway than Stannis' army. We need to be in a position to block that line of advance and convince him to come after us instead." Daenerys said, showing once again that she had learned quite a bit about strategy.

"Then I suggest we get going soon." Jason said, nodding at his son and their men as they passed, his son peeling off to join the Wolfsworn. He wasn't quite able to use ki, so would be ineffective against the Shadow Warriors, but his training was coming on apace.

"Agreed," said Ranma nodding his head as Fenris came up carrying Merry. Though her body was healed, Merry still ran out of energy quickly, and Fenris enjoyed carrying the young woman around in any event. She had left the planning session before everyone else, wanting to check up on her mother. Cersei alas was still in a vegetative state, unresponsive to any stimuli, only able to eat if someone actively fed her.

Even so, Cersei would go north with two of Merry's aides, along with her uncle, Jaime, though their final destinations were different. Cersei would be sent to White Harbor to a sept of the Silent Sisters there, while Jaime would go on to the Wall with a few of the other prisoners. The Kingslayer had fallen into a deep depression after Ranma had cut off his sword hand, and had yet to come out of it, though that didn't matter much to Merry, who had never been close with the man. If anything she felt relief that Jaime was being sent to the Wall. Her mother's condition bothered her a lot, but there wasn't anything she could do about it.

Daenerys nodded, leaning up to pat the other woman's thigh before turning to Sunfyre, who she had chosen as her mount for this first day. "I'll see you when we make camp my lords." She said as she vaulted into the saddle, Sunfyre stretching his neck underneath her and warbling in happiness at the idea of flying with her, his cream-colored scales shimmering in the sun.

With that she gave the Valyrian command, "Climb the Sky!" and both Sunfyre and Rhaegon took off from the ground, massive gusts of wind billowing out from underneath their wings. Taking off from a flat surface like this was hard on the dragons, but thanks to the training she had been giving them, they were used to it.

The army marched for the rest of that day, making camp quickly then training in groups before turning in that night before moving off again just before daybreak, with Daenerys riding Rhaegon as Sunfyre rested in one of the carts. Several days of this routine passed before the first report from Tytos' men came in.

Lucas, Tytos' second son brought it himself, along with one of the precious maps that he and his father had been given by Ranma at Riverrun, copied from a larger version that Lord Tully had in his keep.

"We're harassing the scouts and foragers as best we can my lords, but a lot of Stannis' men're old hands at this too. They don't know the terrain as well as us, but we don't know it as well as we did when we were fighting the Lannisters. We're taking losses, not many, but we're not inflicting many either."

"I knew it would be a tough job when I gave it to you and your father Lucas." Ranma said with a nod gesturing at the map. "What can you tell me about Stannis' movements?"

"His army's around here my Lord just on the other side of the border. There's a heavy wood about two days march for his army I think the same that covers the northern and eastern sides of the God's Eye. We're using that as our base for the moment. We'll have ta move back as the army gets closer, but I don't think we're in any danger of being suddenly overrun either. Stannis' men've tried to set up a few ambushes, but his commanders aren't as good as my father at this game."

That was said with a more than a bit of pride in Lucas' voice. Those ambushes could've proven deadly to the skirmishing force, one of which happened in a small village, and another which happened near a copse of trees further south. The first Meera had spotted, pulling back and ambushing the ambushers later when they tried to return to Stannis' army. The second Tytos woodsman's instincts warned him. House Blackwood then turned the ambush onto itself, killing or routing a force of a hundred heavy cavalry that had been stationed in that copse along with the bait, a force of twenty men that had been sent ahead of the army to forage.

Ranma exchanged a grin with Daenerys, who reached across to grab the young man's arm firmly. "Well done." She said sincerely. "That kind of action is precisely why Ranma chose you, your father and Meera for this."

The young man blushed under the praise but went on quickly. "We've been able to sight his main army a few times when Lord, and it's been broken into three segments. My father thinks that's because of hygiene issues though maybe not. All segments're following the Kingsroad, but not very quickly."

Staring at the map thoughtfully Ranma fell silent while Jason spoke up. "Are these three units so far apart we could attack one without the others coming to its aid?"

Both Lucas and Ranma shook his head before Lucas answered for them both. "No my Lord, they're about a normal half-days march between them, but that kind of space can be made up quickly enough at need. Unless you can draw off the middle segment, that may leave one of the other formations vulnerable. It's doubtful though, since I think Lord Tyrell was put in charge of that, we saw the Rose banner flying high over several others there, and from what all my father said, he's not the quickest ta act decisive-like."

The young Blackwood waited a moment as Greatjon and Rickard stopped laughing at his understatement before going on. "Neither my father nor I know the banners flyin' over the third echelon. The first formation is being led personally by Lord Stannis. We saw his banner flying over it, a black stag's head in a burning heart with a crown 'round it's neck."

There were some exclamations of disgust at that, though they'd heard rumors that Stannis had created his own banner before this. No, it was more the way it showcased his new, horrific religion for all to see that drew those exclamations.

"Can you tell me what banners you saw?" Ranma asked.

"I'm afraid not my Lord. I don't have much of a memory for those things, sorry." Lucas shrugged apologetically.

"Can you estimate their numbers?"

Lucas hesitated, then nodded. I they think somewhere around 30,000 my Lord. Smaller than the Westerlands army was at its height, and much smaller than the Reach force is supposed to be. I think Stannis mauled them badly."

"I need to know more about the composition of Stannis' army, how much of it is from the Reach, how much of it is from the Stormlands. That would hugely impact what kind of tactics Stannis could use in combat." Ranma muttered.

"Could the banners tell you that?" Daenerys asked. "I could fly down there on Rhaegon with one of our Myrishglasses, mark the banners I see them come back.""

"Let's hold that idea in reserve for now." Ranma said looking at her. "Remember, the Red Witch might've been able to figure out a way to attack your dragons in the air, especially given how she attacked the Fish's Scales with those Shadow Warriors to get at you. I don't want to risk that just yet."

Daenerys however knew how Ranma's mind works, and snorted. "But you'll be willing to risk yourself to head down there?"

"Fenris and I can outrun practically anything else that walks on this earth." Ranma said complacently. "We can head down there and come back quickly enough you won't even know we're gone."

"I'll know you were gone." Daenerys said, while Myrcella poked him hard in the back with her toe from where she was laying against Fenris near the back of the tent behind them.

Then Daenerys sighed. "Still, I suppose you're right. Any battle plans we make needs to be made on knowledge of what our enemies are like. And, knowing which lords are in charge of which portions of the Army could tell us a lot about how to defeat them. And what better person than you to see it." She sighed again, then leaned over and kissed him ardently on the lips, ignoring the Lords around them for moment. "But be careful," she ordered after pulling back, staring into Ranma's blue eyes. "That's an order from your queen."

"Of course your Majesty, your will is my command your Majesty, to here is to obey your…" That was as far as Ranma got before Daenerys smacked him upside the head, and Merry once again kicked him in the back while the Lords laughed and jeered.

That very evening Ranma left the army camp, racing South as only he, Jon, Arya and their direwolves could. No other animal had the endurance on the run of a direwolf, and no human who hadn't been trained by Ranma could have kept up with one, nor run at this speed for so long.

They traveled over a hundred leagues that night, and early the next morning Fenris began to smell familiar humans. The direwolf's nose allowed Ranma and Fenris to find where Tytos had encamped his men for the day, though of course not all of them were in the same place. Meera's portion wasn't here, stationed far to the east and south.

Ranma was spotted quickly enough and brought to where Tytos was camped next to a tree. Lord Blackwood stood up quickly almost making to bow before he remembered Ranma's apathy towards such things. Instead he simply reached forward and clasped the younger man's arm firmly. "I'd heard stories of how fast you and the Wolfsworn could move when you had a mind to my Lord, but this is something else entirely!"

"I'm traveling light for now." Ranma said with a laugh then he sobered. "What can you tell me about Stannis' formations?"

That conversation went on for an hour, before Ranma left Tytos' camp, heading forward again. He timed it so that he came upon Stannis' army, or at least the first formation of it at night, then began to write down on a piece of precious parchment the symbols he was seeing on the banners of the camp.

Then he skirted around to the east, heading towards the other two camps, one after another. He noted absently that the first camp was a little further west than the other two, off the Kingsroad entirely sitting along the edge of the forest that marked the northeastern edge of the Gods Eye. I wonder why that is?

OOOOOOO

Stannis had long since chosen a Lord to execute, the pious Lord Kellington from the Stormlands. He had been in charge of the scouts over the past few days and had performed abysmally, as Stannis knew he would. The man was not willing to put forth any effort whatsoever for Stannis and his cause, despite having been forced to give his oath of allegiance. House Kellington had been known for generations for its piety and belief in the Seven.

But Stannis had placed several newly inducted Fire Guard in his command disguised as regular troopers. Then when an ambush had been turned on Lord Kellington they had taken the man captive and ridden off with him rather than fight the skirmishers.

Now deep in the woods with the Fire Guard spread out between his current position and his personal echelon's camp, Stannis watched as Melisandre ritually sacrificed the man to the fire. The sight gave him shivers, though he was loathe to admit that it wasn't just disgust he felt. Seeing Melisandre kneeling in front of the fire naked, which she claimed helped her control her visions, while Kellington's flesh continued to burn and sizzle in the flames, was a strangely erotic sight.

He ignored those emotions however, simply waiting to hear what the woman would report. His eyes widened however when she stood up, shrieking like a madwoman. "The Wolf! The Wolf of gold and blue that walks like a man! He is near!"

While Stannis continued to watch astonished Melisandre gestured, her hands entering the fire and not being burned to ash. They touched the man's flaking, sizzling chest, ripping out his heart as the man continued to shriek in the background. She suddenly gestured to one side. The shadows of the pyre began to coalesce forming into a Shadow Warrior, larger and more solid looking than any of the others the woman had created in Stannis' presence before this.

It stood taller than even Gregor Clegane, even though it stooped slightly, its arms longer than even its size could attest. In one hand it held a massive greatsword, larger than any man, even someone of Stannis' stature, could have wielded in one hand. In the other a shield appeared, a tower shield of all things, larger than most men top to bottom.

"Go!" Melisandre screamed. "Hunt the Wolf who moves like a man! He is southeast of us. Do not be seen by any other living man, but find and kill him!" With that Melisandre slumped to her knees again, closing her eyes as her hands moved to her face. She barely spent a spare glance for Stannis, halting him from saying anything, her voice brusque. "Wait my Lord, wait for now! I need to concentrate."

Unused to being so abruptly dismissed Stannis was about to step forward and shake the woman, to demand what was going on when the Shadow Warrior turned, staring at him for a moment before racing off through the woods. Scowling angrily Stannis tamped down his ire and moved to stand beside the woman, staring down at her face for now while in front of him Kellington's body continued to burn sending a smell of cooked flesh through the night air.

OOOOOOO

Ranma was putting the final touches to his notes when Fenris began to growl. With a thought Ranma entered the direwolf's mind, using his senses for a second to try to figure out what had set Fenris' hackles to rise. Burn smell, smoke smell, unnatural! Like the scent of an old enemy, the things that attacked the wooden human thing which went on the undrinkable deep water.

That was enough for Ranma to know what was coming, and he pulled out of their connection, Ice quickly appearing in his hand from its sheath on his back. With a bare thought the Valyrian steel of the blade began to glow blue in the night air, and he set himself, staring to where Fenris was staring.

Out of the night of the plains came a Shadow Warrior, larger and more solid looking than any of the ones the two of them had fought for on the Fish's Scales. The moment the magically created monster saw him it roared soundlessly, charging forward, its huge sword raised high.

Ranma snarled like a Fenris, racing forward and smashing his own blade up and into it sword. Fenris raced past him, lunging at the beast.

It blocked Fenris with its tower shield, keeping the direwolf from ripping out its throat with his fangs or claws, both of which suddenly began to glow blue. With literally inhuman strength the Shadow Warrior threw Fenris aside, before twirling just as quickly, bringing his sword around to slice at Ranma's side. Ranma stabbed Ice into the ground, blocking the blow, twirling his body up into the air by his grip on its hilt, lashing out with a kick to the far larger creature's face channeling some ki into his foot for a moment.

The creature backed away rapidly, somehow knowing to be wary of the blue-gold ki light. But now it was between Ranma and Fenris, and the two of them charged forward exploiting that weakness ruthlessly. The Shadow Warrior blocked and parried Ranma's attacks, both ice and his own ki-laden feet or fist, trying to turn himself so that Fenris couldn't get behind them, but it failed.

Fenris leaped onto the thing's back, his fangs biting deep into the shoulder of the arm holding its tower shield. The Shadow Warrior's mouth opened in a silent scream as it threw Fenris off with a wrench, but that arm now hung uselessly at the creature's side. The thing still flailed about with his sword trying to block Ranma, but Ranma parried its greatsword down with a glowing blue-gold fist, wincing as the sword cut into his arm despite his strengthening technique. Using the momentum of that blow Ranma rose once again into the air, then thrust forward with Ice stabbing through the thing's upper chest.

The Shadow Warrior began to fall, but still tried to pull back its sword for one last stab, only stopped by Fenris grabbing the things wrist in his mouth, chomping down. Ranma grimly thrust Ice deeper into the things chest, until he could see through the thing that the tip of Ice had passed entirely through its body.

Then the thing admitted the only noise it had made in the entire battle, though even now the noise was but a whisper on the wind. "Thank you."

With that it dissipated, and Ranma landed neatly on his feet staring across at Fenris. "I think we've overstayed our welcome, don't you?"

Fenris rolled its eyes in an incredibly human gesture then sped off through the woods without another word. Ranma nodded bending down to pick up his notes from where they had fallen during the battle, before racing after his bonded direwolf.

OOOOOOO

"GAAHHHH!" Luckily for Melisandre Stannis was close enough to grab her when she suddenly screamed, falling to the side from where she had been kneeling in front of the pyre. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she looked almost insensate. Stannis easily lifted the woman into his arms, moving over to a nearby tree where he propped her against its trunk.

With that done he turned to one of her handmaidens, who had been chosen to follow them into the woods for this ritual. The woman had been staring into the pyre, her face almost ecstatic with a religious fervor, but now she was looking on worriedly. "Get me some wine from our saddlebags."

The woman obeyed with alacrity, coming back swiftly with the wineskin handing it to him then stood there looking on worriedly. Stannis grimly forced open Melisandre's clamped mouth, pouring the wine between her lips until she gagged and coughed, spluttering and spitting it out. "What happened?" he growled.

Melisandre coughed again, then stared up at him, tried to push him away from her, but Stannis held her against the tree easily. "The Wolf, the Wolf who walks like a man, Ranma Stark! He was near, somewhere close to the third echelon's camp, towards the east."

Stannis frowned, wondering if he could send runners back there in enough time to ambush the youth, but from the reports he'd been getting, well rumors were more accurate since they'd started to come near the Riverlands/Crownlands border, he doubted that was possible, especially not at night. And I'd rather not lose any more of the men I could trust on such a venture. No doubt the Blackwood men we've been fighting recently are out there just waiting for an opportunity like that.

Aloud he asked "I take it that your Shadow Warrior did not prevail?"

"No my Lord it did not." She replied tartly, yet in a far weaker tone than she would normally have used. "It should have moved faster than any human warrior could've kept up with, it should have slaughtered both the Wolf-Man and his beast. But somehow they are able to fight against my Shadowbound. It was not just the dragon's fire that saw off our first attempt to capture the Stormborn."

Stannis scowled, but didn't otherwise respond to that, wondering already what Ranma had been down here to do. Scout obviously, but what did he learn? Our formations. I'll have to change them up for the march from now on. Push the third echelon ahead of the first and second, then put myself in the center, but with the second echelon perhaps out to one side?

"I see. Did your creature at least injure them?"

"No my Lord it didn't."

"And what did your visions report before you became aware of his presence?"

Melisandre had to concentrate on that for a moment, the blue-gold image of the Stark man had filled her vision almost from the start, but she had discerned a few things before that. "The Army of the Starks is moving towards what I believe is the city of Duskendale, Azor Ahai. Yet from that city I saw another army arriving from the water, men with golden skulls on their banners, and a fourth dragon, young but still able to fly and be used."

"The Golden Company and a dragon? I wonder if this is some Blackfyre pretender come to try his luck, or something more." Stannis frowned. "Hmmpf, I had hoped that Seaworth would be able to catch them in the Bay or east of it, but I suppose he was pulled out of position chasing down Viserys."

At the mention of Davos, Melisandre scowled internally. The man was one of very few Stannis would listen to and respected implicitly, and had almost always been a voice against her influence with him. She was thankful Davos was no longer with them, and hoped her news would possibly start to make a chink in Stannis' belief in the man. "I cannot tell you anything about that, Azor Ahai. But I saw another army marching from the Bay of Crabs, from a town with a maiden hovering above it."

Stannis suddenly frowned, then laughed. "Very clever Stark, but not quite clever enough! Hah, he wanted to get me chasing after him, then move aside and let Viserys and I battle before he came in to defeat the victor. A neat plan, too neat to work in real life especially with a fourth army in the field, one which I doubt he saw coming. Now however, his maneuverability will soon be sharply curtailed, and I might be able to pin him against the Golden Company and Viserys. So long as you are certain you can deal with their dragons at any rate."

"I can my Lord. The blessing of R'hllor will allow me to control any fire I see, though it will take a lot of concentration at any distance. I could even turn their fire back onto the dragons, possibly burn them and their riders."

"A sound tactic." Stannis said approvingly. "Is that all?"

"My visions had already begun to turn north my Lord before they were completely overwhelmed by the presence of the wolf who walks like a man. There was a sense of urgency there! We are running out of time!"

"Then I suppose you should start creating your Shadow Warriors now. Enough of them would make any battle go much faster after all."

Melisandre stared up at him angrily, thumping the ground with one fist in a show of anger that she would never normally allow herself, but what she wanted to do was walk off angrily and she couldn't. She felt as weak as a kitten right now. "I will do so as soon as I am able my Lord. So long as you understand that we, that all Westeros is running out of time! Whatever happens with this campaign we must start north within the next month! Or else we won't arrive in time to stop whatever disaster will occur."

Stannis scowled, but nodded. "I understand your concerns." He said in a tone that made it clear he didn't, but was willing to humor Melisandre given the fact that her powers were very obviously real, which meant her concerns might be as well. "But I refuse to let Ranma Stark behind us. He at least must be dealt with before we head north."

Grimly determined the priestess of R'hllor pulled herself up using the tree has a backrest and waving her arms towards her returning follower. "Then we will start tonight my Lord."

Throughout that night several dozen crates were carried out of the second echelon's camp and into the woods, along with over 100 unconscious prisoners, just as many Fire Guard, and every acolyte that Melisandre still retained. Only a quarter of those retainers would return with only half the Guard, while not one prisoner was ever seen alive again.

The next day rumors would abound as to what went on that night, where the prisoners had gone or what had happened between Melisandre's retainers and the guards. But the first echelon was composed of those men who are most wedded to Stannis' cause, and the rumors would eventually subside while on the march. Yet they would not disappear, and more than one man began to wonder precisely what sort of King they or their lords had chosen to follow.

OOOOOOO

Kevan Lannister stood unseeing at the window of his brother's study, staring down from the Rock towards the city of Lannisport. He had been standing there for hours now, ever since opening the missive sent by raven from the Golden Tooth. But it had not come from House Lefford, no it had come from the conquerors of possibly the most important castle outside the Rock itself in all the Westerlands. The Riverlands had taken the Golden Tooth under the direction of the new royal House, Stargaryen.

How did they do it? He thought to himself, not for the first time over the past few hours. How did they take the Golden Tooth so easily? Even if they could get around it somehow with a full army they couldn't have taken it by siege this quickly, the Golden Tooth is as defensible from the west as it is from the east!

But that part of the message was but the icing on the poisonous cake that was the rest of the message. My brother dead. Even now the thought didn't seem to register emotionally inside Kevan. Tywin had always dominated his life, always controlled everything and everyone around him, or at least given the impression he was doing so. Not only that, but the army has been smashed. The list of Lords dead makes for incredibly grim reading.

Kevan was a bit of a historian, and knew the losses from all of the wars that the Westerlands had taken part of by heart. And in this one war the Westerlands had lost more Lords and men than in any single war before by far. Most of the time lords and heirs are captured then ransomed back but this, this Wolf boy doesn't seem to play that game.

"You're still staring out the window, I would've thought you'd have started to actually do something by now." Said a female voice from behind him.

Kevan turned slowly to stare at Genna, his sister. One eyebrow raised and he actually essayed a small smirk. "I notice you're not in mourning colors any longer Genna."

The woman scoffed and Kevan could almost see that we she was trying to fight the urge to spit to one side. "Please," She scoffed. "You know that there was no love lost between me my husband and I. And with the Freys no longer powerful enough for our marriage to mean anything, well…" she shrugged.

In response Kevan shivered at the way Genna was so blasé about having poisoned her husband. Still that was Genna for you, she always tended to speak her mind and go her own way. Our at least as much as she could get away with. Tywin had terrified her of course, but then again he had terrified everyone in the family, not because they feared him physically, but because his personality was so dominating. "That's nice…" he said slowly knowing that Genna would read how uncomfortable he was with the topic.

She scoffed again. Moving quicker than most would've given a woman of her size credit she came towards him, pulling him into a rough embrace for a second before plucking the message out from between his fingers and turning away. While she read it Genna moved back, pulling a chair around the Lord's desk with a loud squeal as it rattled along the stone of the room before plopping into it and actually putting her feet up on Tywin's desk. All of this while wearing a skirt.

For a moment Kevan simply gawked, there was something so bizarre about that sight, so disrespectful, that it took his breath away. But then again Tywin's dead isn't he? Kevan sighed and pulled out Tywin's own chair and sat in it, feeling very uncomfortable doing so, knowing now that he was Lord Lannister rather than simply acting in his brother's stead.

The message was well-written, to the point and utterly damning to their families power base. It laid out the bare bones of the campaign in the Riverlands, listing the number of dead lords and heirs, with only a few still missing. It then went on to the trials, trials for lords, hell even a Lord Paramount in a time of war! And of course, it told of how Tywin had been found guilty of treason and war crimes, then executed on the spot.

After that, it had laid out the reparations the Lannisters would need to pay to get Kevan's sons back, and the fact that the Westerlands was being broken up into smaller 'duchies'. Though it neglected to mention what in the way of incentives the new 'royal house' offered them. There had to be something of course, though given the major House's anger at the disaster Tywin had led them into, it might not have been much. Even so, Kevan could guess which Houses would jump at the chance to rule their lands with only a distant king to answer to rather than House Lannister.

The Serret-Lydden duchy, which those families, being the most powerful remaining houses and allied to several smaller in the area. House Crakehall, again not overly weakened but facing the Reach forces, and territory to its north to expand into. House Brax, badly weakened and in the mountains relatively near the Golden Tooth would grasp any way to remain neutral with both hands.

House Banefort might as well, they had never really cared for being ruled by the Rock, and the lands separating that of Banefort and Payne from the rest of the Westerlands, which meant reining them in would be tough. Worse, those Houses were supplying Addam Marbrand and his invasion force, so Kevan would need to tread very lightly there.

Prester… possibly would remain loyal, though Kevan doubted it. They hadn't sent many men to war, but they also looked do gain quite a lot of land if they agreed to the 'duchy' idea from the houses that had been wiped out in the war so far.

All in all, we'll be left alone, bereft of friends though not penniless thankfully, at least for a while anyway. He remained silent while Genna read the note, watching as she then put it down and turned to him, her emerald eyes cold. "So what are you going to do?" She asked bluntly.

"Do about which part of that gigantic piece of offal?" Kevan asked, buying time more than anything else.

"Don't come over the idiot with me!" Genna shook her head. "You might've always followed Tywin, but I know there's a brain inside of that skull brother. And you're as pragmatic as Tywin ever was, if a little slower to taking violent actions. So, what are you going to do? You know some of our family members are going to push for us to try and fight this don't you? And the only way to keep the Westerlands intact now is by force of arms. None of the Lords that will be forming these 'duchies' of the Stark-Targaryens will willingly join us. They've lost family members, some have lost their Lords or heirs or simply power, and the lesser Houses are practically gone! At least, if this list of dead is to be believed."

She paused a moment looking at him. "Do we believe it?"

Intelligent though she was, Genna did not have any resources outside the Rock for news. She was however quick, and almost up to Cersei's skill when it came to understanding political maneuvers, so understood that the Westerlands were no more. The country that name signified had ended the moment ravens arrived at the disparate castles they had been sent to from the Golden Tooth. If, that was, the news they brought was real and not some kind of trick which would be found out in the fullness of time.

"It's true," Kevan said with a sigh. "News of the beginning of the disaster reached me before the raven message. We were indeed that badly mauled, and Tywin at the very least is dead. The news of that disaster already reached the common folk in Lannisport. The March of the Wolf King is being sung in practically every tavern in the city! Tywin wasn't exactly a well-loved individual." He finished dryly.

Genna barked a laugh, knowing that to be only too true, but her mind was on more important matters. "And our monetary base?"

He sighed gesturing over his shoulder towards the window and down towards the city. "The Ironborn did a number on the docks and the fires they started did worse. I've been going over the numbers since that assault, and ordering the weapons we sent with the fleet and repairing that damage has badly eroded our gold reserves here in the Rock."

"We couldn't raise mercenaries enough to force the other Lords into compliance again?" Genna asked, playing Stranger's advocate. It was obvious from her face that she wasn't in favor of that idea.

"The two mercenary units that we had on retainer are gone. I doubt there are 10 men alive from either of them, either on the southern front or the Riverlands. Tywin executed Vargo Hoat for disobeying orders, and that news reached us long before anything else in the Riverlands occurred, so I doubt we could even get any mercenary group to take our money after that, and we'd need thousands of them."

"Even if we could pay them, it would be half a year at best before they could arrive here in the Westerlands. And we'd have to pay for their upkeep and their transportation! We could pay for it, but doing so would bankrupt us, and we don't have the transportation! Or even a way to get in touch with enough mercenary bands!"

Kevan rubbed at his forehead. "And besides, what kind of army would relying on mercenaries or even levy's make? The Northern-Riverlands army just smashed an army whose experience and leadership no new army could match. No, we would simply be throwing good money after bad, and I doubt we would survive it if he did."

He looked hard at Genna. "But all that is really beside the point, since this is all supposing we would be willing to forget the fact they have hostages. Including two of my sons!"

"The forces we sent to take the Iron Islands?" Genna asked, ignoring the bit about hostages. Those hostages might be important to Kevan, but they wouldn't be to the rest of the family. The only one that might was Daven, and even then many would look on him as a rival anyway.

"Too small to make a difference on the mainland, and already landed on Pyke, or at least I believe they will have by this point. The last report I had from Banefort said that." He sighed. "House Banefort might take up the offer that was sent to them, but I hope to keep that line of discussion open even so, and since they hadn't lost many men that's possible. The only other House we can still count on to be loyal to us is House Marbrand at this point. All the other surviving Houses will leave our side like rats leaving a sinking ship."

Genna nodded agreement, but she was looking at Kevan worriedly. "You know we're going to face internal pressure from the rest of our family to do something. The days of the Lannister's walking in step are gone, and there will be a lot of pressure on us to try to do something despite the fact that our options are so limited."

"I know." Kevan said with a nod. "But we'll have to silence those voices, and I will say this now: if anyone acts in such a way as to endanger my boys I'll order their deaths myself, even if I must become a kinslayer!"

He stared hard at Genna, who nodded, her face showing approval for the strength of his stance.

"The time of the Lannister's holding the whip hand in the Westerlands and in the rest of Westeros is over, and the sooner we resign ourselves to that fact the better will be. With Lannisport we'll still be a power to reckon with, the first among equals at least in the Westerlands, that will have to do for our family's ego."

He sighed again putting his head in his hands. "This Wolf King has two dragons to call upon. The Rock's never been tested against dragons, and frankly if the song's to be believed he's done so many incredible things in the course of this campaign of his Riverlands I don't think even the Rock would be safe. No, we build our power base up again, and we by the Seven do nothing to threaten my son's treatment in their hands. We be happy with what we have, or else we'll have nothing."

OOOOOOO

Asha stared at the Ironborn longship that was closing on the small strip of land she had made her refuge for the past few days. "I wonder where this ship comes from, and what happened with the battle." She tapped a large makeshift bundle at her side, smirking at what it contained, and what it might mean for the future. "The victors truly did write the story, but such can be overwritten eventually. Especially in times of great upheaval, just like this one."

It was evident the ship was stopping here to search for freshwater, and she remained in hiding watching the men come ashore until she spotted the captain, Thereon Harlaw. She knew the man, one of the lazier captains of the Ironborn, and one of the fattest men she'd ever seen, and somewhat dull, even in comparison to other Ironborn captains she could name. The Reader however was more than capable of doing this thinking for him, and his loyalty to his lord had never wavered.

Even so she was cautious, coming out of the scrub brush above the party heading deeper into the island towards the small pool of freshwater that had accumulated from the rainfall that was almost constant now. She waited until the man was close by, then spoke sharply, reaching down with the butt of the makeshift spear she had created since arriving here from the wood of one of her oars.

The butt of it smacked into the fat captain's head, and he turned quickly, far quicker then Asha thought he could if she was honest. She glared down at the man and said sharply. ""Hail Thereon, be you still loyal to Lord Rodrick?"

For a moment the man's face was blank then his rotund face split into a wide pumpkin grin. "Asha Greyjoy! We thought you dead!"

"I nearly was thanks to treachery among my own forces." Asha growled, while all around her the man's crew stared at her in astonishment. "I was stabbed in the back, literally. Then I had to choose between dying with a sword in my guts or diving into the ocean. I chose the ocean, and survived everything the Drowned God could throw at me since."

More than one man shifted uncomfortably on his feet at her disparaging tone when speaking of the Drowned God, but more of them grinned at her spirit. Thereon however simply cocked his head in shock. "Why would someone betray you like that?"

"I don't know." Asha frowned thoughtfully, unwilling to mention the fact that her hated uncle had been named in that attack. No, she would wait and take her vengeance on the man if he dared show himself in her presence. "Maybe I angered the captains of those ships in the past or something, we're a fractious lot as you know. What happened with the battle, what's been going on since?"

"The greenlanders have landed on Pyke." Thereon said with a shrug. "The Reader's worried about somethin' they're doin', don't know what. The fleet's been smashed, Harlaw barely has 12 ships now, and we're the strongest of the islands at this point by a lot. A few of the captains've tried ta attack the Greenlanders since that battle, and had their ships sunk for their troubles, so the Reader ordered all o' our own ships back to defend Harlaw.

"Smart of him," Asha murmured, nodding her head. If she was the Reader she'd have cut her losses to. After all, my father's away, and they don't have enough ships to truly guard all of the Island's coasts. Maybe we can raid their supply lines, but that's doubtful too, with Banefort so close. The Greenlanders have the wind behind them now, it'll take something major to stop them.

"Any word about my ship or its crew?" she asked aloud.

Thereon shook his head. "Gone with all hands in the battle."

Asha winced at that, her fists clenching as she thought about her crew and her ship, her lovely Black Wind, which had been more her home than that old drafty castle on Pyke had ever been, more even than Ten Towers. After a moment though, she pushed her grief aside. "All right, let's get out of here than. I need to talk to the Reader."

She frowned thoughtfully. "With as few warriors of we've still got, we might have to strike a deal with the damn Greenlanders, but if they don't want to deal…" she smiled thinly, patting the heavy bundle at her side once more. "I might have a few surprises in store for them."

OOOOOOO

Viserys soared through the air on top of Balerion, urging the beast down towards the ships flying the flag of the Royal Navy, the hated burning heart with the stag's head inside it. The Royal Navy had caught up to his fleet just as they came within sight of Maidenpool, sinking four of his captured war galleys at the back of the fleet before he could take to Balerion. Now it was time for vengeance!

"Dive!" He shouted aloud in Valyrian, "Attack with flame!" With that and with his grip on the stirrups turning the beast towards his chosen target the two of them dove down.

Though still young for the breed, Balerion was a massive beast, and quite mad. Viserys' training had been harsh, unfeeling, with every defiance met with pain, every attempt to break his chains or attack Viserys met with more, every act of anger or fury against others rewarded. But it was effective. Balerion roared, then a gout of flame seared out of its mouth and down towards the target ship, smashing into the crows' nest and setting both it and all of the canvas of the war galley alight in a single pass, along with the lookout, who had not seen them coming.

Balerion pulled up swiftly, using the updraft from the flames before continuing its run towards another war galley while behind them men screamed as they tried desperately to contain the fire. But war galleys were susceptible to fire at the best of times, with so much tar, wood, and rope all around. Though they would fight valiantly, those sailors would not succeed, Viserys knew it.

Nor would the sailors of the next ship succeed in staving off Balerion. Arrows flew, but they fell well short. Another gout of flame shot out, catching the main mast of the second war galley. The mast went up like a torch, the fire spreading to the canvas down to the deck, and everywhere quickly while Viserys crowed in delight. "On to the next!" He shouted gleefully, then switching to Valyrian. "On to the next!"

The third war galley was ready for them, and not only its archers but the scorpions set along the fore of the ship tried to range on them. But they couldn't quite turn far enough, with Viserys and Balerion attacking them amidships. The archers did better, and for the first time Balerion had to begin evasive maneuvers. Even so, only a few clattered against the dragon's hide, bouncing off harmlessly. Not a one of them hit its more vulnerable wings.

In response, Balerion's flame smashed into the ship. It yet again took out a mast before the tongue of flame turned downwards as Balerion arced his neck in the same direction to impact the actual deck, setting several men there on fire. They died screaming while their fellows tried frantically to put out the fires.

But Balerion at last paid for his success so far. Another war galley was close enough to their angle of flight to take Viserys and his mount under fire as Balerion pulled away with its main weapons. One of the scorpions of that ship nearly hit Balerion square on. He frantically dodged upwards, but the barb of the bolt still caught him in the tail, making a small, but deep gash there, causing Balerion to scream in fury and pain.

For a moment it was all he could do to control Balerion, the pain from its tail causing the beast to thrash about in midair, almost throwing Viserys off entirely. Viserys held on for dear life shouting Valyrian commands in as commanding a tone as he could make sawing at the reins at the same time. "Up, up climb the sky! Climb the sky!" Thankfully that ship was the only one that could range on them at that moment.

Balerion beat its massive wings gaining altitude, but on its back Viserys scowled angrily at how willful the creature was. It followed his commands, but that brief moment of panic from the pain had almost undone all of their previous bonding!

Below them the Royal Navy had backed off from the port of Maidenpool, spreading out so the fires of the ships already attacked couldn't reach the rest of the fleet. Through a spyglass he had taken from the Martells, Viserys saw all the scorpions of those war galleys were now elevated, to shoot up into the air as far as possible. Normally that would allow the ships to use arcing fire, shooting over obstacles between them and their target, like this, they could become deadly to a dragon trying to attack them.

If that scorpion had hit Balerion it would've killed him! His scales might have hardened enough to protect him against arrows, but against scorpion bolts? No. That will take years yet. "Back!" He shouted, turning the black dragon's head away and heading towards Maidenpool. "We've done enough."

For a moment the beast craned its neck around to look his rider in the eye. It's ire was up, and small gouts of flame began to appear at the corners of its mouth. But Viserys was unmoved, and continued to pull at the reins jerking his mount's head back and around towards Maidenpool. He thumped its sides with his boots, shouting aloud. "Back to home, food!"

It was that last word that probably caused the beast to come out of its blood fugue and it went willingly down towards the town. The two of them landed in the courtyard of the small keep of House Mooton.

All around him the men of Mooton stared in dread, fear or happiness Viserys did not care. At the same time his own men were already investing the keep, and Arianne was moving towards him even now, several dozen men behind her with the chains necessary to keep Balerion from going out of control, and two others bearing between them a whole elk.

Viserys remained in the saddle for now, waiting until the food was in front of Balerion before getting off him. The dragon chomped down, ignoring the now familiar feeling of the chains being lashed around its limbs, though it growled and snapped at a man who got too close, nearly biting his arms off before they could put the chain around its neck. Only Viserys pulling back on the reins that were still on the dragon prevented the man's death.

"Enough! Food!" Viserys shouted in Valyrian, and Balerion once more turned to regard him balefully, before going back to its food. Quickly the men put the final chain around his neck backing away hurriedly. Viserys left the saddle now, moving over to Arianne. That's right Balerion snap and snarl, show your power to both our enemies and our allies, let them fear the return of the Targaryen Dynasty!

"My king." Said his wife, leaning forward to kiss him lightly on the cheek and taking his hand in hers. "Magnificently fought! Your actions saved our entire fleet!"

It hadn't quite, they had lost nearly all of their stolen war galleys and another four hundred men, but it had certainly made the Royal Navy back off for now. Most of the fleet had already been within the port of Maidenpool however, guarded by its ballista and heavy catapults. The Royal fleet could still invade, but it would take severe losses against those set defenses. And she doubted it had the manpower or will to oust them if the fight spread into the town.

"The debarkation process is continuing." She said gesturing to her cousin Elia. "By your leave, the Lords will handle that, while Elia serves as liaison. You and I should meet with the Lord of the Keep and get some information from him, as Nymeria does from our family's contacts here. I know that Lord Mooton is loyal to your family, but his competency is somewhat questionable, so we might have to ginger up his ideas personally."

"Of course my dear." Viserys said, rather more mellow than normal, the joy of combat having filled him for a moment. "Let's see to that."

Lord Mooton was as obsequious and yellow-bellied as could be asked, but he was surprisingly more competent that Arianne had thought. "Your supplies are ready my Lord, as is a baggage train. My smiths aren't the best, so we haven't been able to supply you with as many arrowheads as I had hoped, but your coats and tents and other supply needs are ready. You will even have enough food for at least a week on the march, if you forage at least some of your army. Spears we have in abundance as well, but I apologize for the failure in production of swords and shields."

"Those at least we have brought enough with us." Viserys said magnanimously, sipping at a magnificent vintage from the Arbor that the Lord had kept in his cellar for years. A resplendent meal was laid out in front of them, and he was feeling even mellower than he had after the battle. "No single town can specialize in everything after all ."

The area around Maidenpool and over and down toward Butterwell was somewhat famed for its cheeses along with other cattle products. The fishery was also decent enough here, though not quite as good as deeper into the Bay of Crabs in terms of crabs. "So long as you were able to provide us with enough autumn gear, that will be enough. Gulltown was depressingly unhelpful in that regard."

"Hack, Hack. What can you tell us about what is going on?" Asked Jorah Mormont, while next to him Lord Grafton scowled at the dig to his town. Jorah looked much the worse for wear, and about two stones lighter than he had back in Pentos. He had fallen ill from something he had caught from a whore in one of their stopovers in the Broken Arm, and had only recently begun to recover. Despite this, he was still a respected leader of men and had requested to be a part of this discussion, the only war council he felt well enough to attend since long before they reached Dorne.

"I received a report from the so-called Wolf King my Lord." Lord Mooton replied, making certain that his voice was as contemptuous as possible. "As well as your sister. They are marching down to Duskendale, intending to either sack or take the city as a prelude to fighting Stannis, thinking it is the, they call it the logistical lynchpin for his army, odd words but understandable. Closer to home, I regret to say that there have been issues of bandits in my lands, no doubt rabble from the Westerlands army that have somehow found their way here. I have lost several dozen of my reavers and thief-takers already. I am afraid, I don't know what you'll run into out there and at this point."

"As if bandits could trouble a full army." Viserys scoffed. He frowned then thoughtfully. "We'll head out in a few days then, my men could use some time in a port, and our horses need to get their land legs under them. That will allow us to figure out where we wish to go."

"Surely we should make for Harroway my Lord?" Asked Elia. "Let the stag and direwolf fight it out between them, while we take the Riverlands from behind them."

"And let them think we're cowards!?" said Viserys sneering a little. "No, the Riverlands and every other nation in Westeros will capitulate once the two pretenders to the throne have been dealt with. I don't want us bogged down in small war after small war. Smash their armies entirely, not just a few towns here and there. Kill their leaders and make an example of them. That will stop others from trying to emulate their rebellion."

"I agree my lord, but we must be cautious." Jorah spoke aloud. "We do not have a large army, we need to use our advantage in horse archers and pike against their weaknesses, not take losses in any kind of 'fair' fight." Around him the Dornish lords all nodded firmly, having no desire to cripple their Houses for no return.

With that the talk turns to other things, with most of it dealing with the events in the Riverlands as Lord Mooton knew them. This included the size of Ranma's army, how loyal the Riverlords were, the latest news of battles in the Riverlands and elsewhere.

Later as they were being led to their rooms for the evening Nymeria Sand moved up to Viserys' side behind Arianne murmuring. "If you would my Lord, I think we should leave a token force here to make certain that Lord Mooton does not make any deals behind our back. He is…"

"He's as spineless as the cheese made on his land." Viserys replied dryly. "I know that. He's a snake, but a useful one just as you are my dear. Though in comparison he is a grass snake whereas you are a true viper's daughter."

Nymeria smiled thinly, eager to head out into the town and meet with her contacts here. She hoped that some of them would have news of her father's campaign in the Stormlands, though she doubted it. With war as spread as it was, getting news from one agent to another was difficult, even with their reliance on trained doves to do so.

"With your leave my Lord," said Petyr, who had been silent for most of the evening. "I could command such a force?"

"Your courage does you credit." Viserys sneered. "No, I want you where I can see you Littlefinger. Indeed, you and your Valemen, most particularly the levy force, will be at the front of the battle. I trust you will comport yourself well?"

Petyr fell silent with a graceful nod of his head, though internally he was angry. He had wanted to stay here to learn what he could of events elsewhere, and possibly put some distance between him and Viserys, who he knew now was quite as sadistic as Joffrey had been, only more controlled. Petyr, for all his other faults, was not a sadist or a madman, and had no desire to remain in Viserys employ any longer than he could.

But Viserys was so distrustful of him that he was constantly under watch, and of course Viserys would not allow him to remain behind. With an internal sigh, Petyr knew he couldn't get away from his current employer just yet, but he could set up a fallback plan. Surely one of his men could remain behind if he could not…

OOOOOOO

Davos scowled, listening to half a mind as one of his captain went over the days' losses while he stared at the port of Maidenpool from the raised aft portion of his ship. When the man finished, he shook his head. "Pull the fleet back-a-ways and spread us out, say fifty leagues or so. We'll cordon the city, but I don't want us close enough so that damn Targaryen butcher can simply fly his black terror out and burn a few ships every day. No, as long as we can keep the Dornish army from pulling up stake, we've done our part. I want no more men to die in this chase."

OOOOOOO

A few days had passed since Ranma returned to the army, with nothing much to show for it save the distance the army had covered. The Shadow Warrior's attack, and the fact it meant Stannis would know Ranma had seen his army, meant any information he had gleaned was unusable. The creature's strength and speed, which was almost on par with his own, had come as a shock and a warning for him and the Wolfsworn.

It was raining right now, and while the march was continuing, Ranma and his commanders had pulled off to the side of the road once again to meet with a lone rider from the South. Lucas had again been chosen as his father and Meera's messenger, but the past few days had obviously taken a toll on the young man. "We're beginning to lose more men my Lord," he said grimly. "We're still killing two or three for every one of us we lose, but they've replaced whoever's in charge of their scouts, and this one knows his business almost as well as Lady Meera or my father."

While Lucas had doubted Meera's ability to lead and even fight before this, that opinion had faded since this campaign began. Her skill at blending into the land was phenomenal, and her speed on foot was noteworthy, as was her skill with bow and trident.

"Does your father want to pull your men back?" Ranma asked.

"Not yet my Lord. Their army is still pretty much blind, and the smallfolk aren't helping. Lady Alayaya understated their hatred for Stannis, Stannis has been forced to hang several dozen smallfolk from different villages to force their neighbors to provide his army with food, and he's slowly losing control of some of the Stormlands infantry he uses to bring in supplies."

Lucas spat to one side angrily though his grin was fierce as he went on. "Those are my favorite missions to lead my Lord, attacking those foraging parties. Give it another two weeks or more, and all three of that army's units're going to be feelin' the pinch."

"Excellent." Ranma nodded, though he and Daenerys were not happy to hear about the depredations upon the smallfolk. "Make certain you note down the tabards of the houses involved in that kind of crap for later however. If all goes well, we might need to have another round of trials. Anything else?"

"Er, that was the good news my lord. The bad news, the real reason my father sent me to consult with you, is… well… I don't know how they knew so quickly my Lord, but Stannis' army cut northeast practically the very next day after you and Fenris came down and had your bit of adventure."

"Maybe the Red Witch truly can tell Stannis things thanks to her magic powers." Daenerys said frowning thoughtfully. "That unfortunately gives more credence to your concern that she could somehow neutralize my little ones."

Greatjon laughed. "Your little ones aren't so 'little' anymore lady." He said, looking up into the sky were Sunfyre and Rhaegon flew above the army, happily moving through the air about one another. They were playing a game of tag Daenerys and Merry had thought up. A bright pennant was tied to Rhaegon's tail which Sunfyre tried grab with his claws without hurting his brother.

"Still it is worrisome, this magic…" Greatjon shuddered. "Give me a good sword fight any day."

"Ah, but remember the old saying my Lord, a sword in any wizard's bowels will still ruin his day." Said Dacey from nearby, smiling grimly.

"Whatever the case my lord, they are cutting across our route, and making up a lot of distance on the army despite our own speed. Plus, and this is worse I think, their own pace has increased recently. Though they are getting close to Butterwell, we might be able to have Tristan and his force sortie after the first two units pass over his land."

After sending Cley to fetch his map and looking at the points where the three disparate forces of Stannis were marching, Ranma nodded. "A point, but I think we need to do something better to slow them down. We can't face Stannis' Army and then expect to be able to face Viserys and his without pulling back to Harroway for rest and refit." Even the march was taking its toll on the men's equipment, their boots, leather and camping gear in particular thanks to the rain and mud, despite most of it being gear prepared to face autumn.

"And I've already gotten reports that ships were seen nearing Maidenpool." said Alayaya grimly waving a small message as several of her listeners looked astonished. "I was able to suborn a branch of the Master of Whisper's spy ring my Lords. Darry was one of their collection points."

"Whatever we're paying you it is not enough my lady." Said Jason laughing lightly, though his eyes were grim. "Do you think we have enough space to move out of the way and let them have at it here my Lord?"

"Stannis is too smart for that, and this Red Witch was proven too good at anticipating things. Now, Stannis would probably simply back off, keep his forces to our west and south, force us to fight Viserys first then come in afterwards to pin us against the Bay of Crabs somewhere."

He clapped his hands together like a sound of thunder. "Let's get this organized my lords. Greatjon, Rickard, you and my lady are in charge of the army, keep it moving on its current route."

"We'll cross into the Crownlands in another day at this pace." Jason warned. House Buckwell will have no love for us."

"Doesn't matter." Ranma said with a shrug. "They try to fight us, we'll smash them in the open field, but I'm not going to try to assault any castles anytime soon."

"Thank goodness for that," Roger murmured from where he was sitting nearby on his horse.

Several moments later he was groaning to his wife. "I spoke too soon didn't I?"

"Shut up and ride," Osha growled.

The two of them, a force of a thousand light cavalry and seven hundred archers were moving southwest towards House Butterwell's land, hoping to meet up with the force Ranma had sent to that castle under Tristan and then start either hitting the forward units or attack the baggage trains of Stannis' army if possible to slow up their march. The archers were on spare horses, indeed the force had practically every spare horse the army had, and were riding hard.

The force also included every Wolfsworn still with the army and of course Fenris. Daenerys had wanted to join them on her dragons, but she and Ranma feared what the Red Witch could do to them without some other dragon around to draw her attention.

Having to travel with the rest of the army obviously slowed the Wolfsworn down, but within three days they were met by another one of Lord Blackwood's man, but the news he shared was not good. "Your Majesty, Stannis has sent a force ahead, it's besieging Butterwell now. The rest of his army seems to have slowed down, and are turning aside to head further east."

Ranma frowned, wondering why Stannis would have sent a force ahead to siege Butterwell and turn his army further westward if he was trying to bring Ranma's army to battle. Unless… The Red Witch could have told him that my army was making for the road between Maidenpool and Duskendale. In that case he might be pushing to cut us off, possibly because he knows someplace along it perfect for an ambush. Could she have also warned him that I had invested Butterwell with some of my men as well? Or worse? No, don't fall into that trap Ranma, they're not omniscient. Still…

"Could it be a trap?" he said aloud. "Trying to draw our scouts out of hiding to defend the castle, or destroy a fast reaction force like ours?"

"I think that's well within Stannis' ability." Roger said with a nod. Hathan and the others nodded agreement.

"In that case," Ranma said grimly. "I suggest we go in spring this trap. 'If you've prepared a trap for a fox, you're not going to have prepared for the direwolf'."

"I thought that phrase was, 'if you've trapped a fox you're not going to prepare for the bear'?" Dacey said laughing while the others all chuckled as well.

"I'm King" Ranma huffed airily, looking down his nose at her. "I think I can change one old phrase, can't I?"

They rested for the rest of that day before marching through the night to be within striking range of the Castle of Butterwell before resting for the rest of the night. They found that the castle was indeed under attack.

Fenris and Ranma moved forward with some of the scouts to see, and it wasn't a fake assault at least. A force of several thousand men had surrounded the castle, exchanging arrow fire with the defenders over the moat that surrounded it.

"We'll attack at dawn, sweeping across their flank here, then moving on." Ranma said, motioning toward a makeshift map he had made on the mud of the copse of trees they were hiding in for now. "We hit them hard and fast, roll them up now before they can finish any earthworks. But I want scouts all around now and during the battle. I want to make certain that this isn't a trap for us."

"You're the one that said this was a trap already for me and mine." said Tytos, who had met up with them a few hours ago, while Ranma was moving forward to inspect the positions of the force around Butterwell. Even after more than a week and a half of skirmishing he was still looking hale and hearty.

"Yes, but there's no reason to get complacent."

Despite Ranma's worries the night passed uneventfully. Just before dawn, Ranma and his men it broke camp, the light cavalry getting back into the saddle and the Wolfsworn preparing themselves, while the archers prepared to follow up the charge. Tytos and his scouts also prepared themselves, waiting for any opportunities to arise to snipe at the enemy.

The light cavalry and Wolfsworn road through copse in the waning night until they were on its edge nearest Butterwell, close enough to charge at the besieging army's camp. Ranma nodded all around and charged forward. The rest of the force went into a canter. Then when they reached about 400 yards away and the first shouts of alarm were raised from the tired men on guard of the camp, the horses broke into a gallop.

Surprise was almost total, with only a force of around fifty men able to gather together to form any kind of resistance. The light cavalry rode into the army's camp, swords flashing and cutting down dozens, then hundreds of men, throwing torches into various tents, or at barrels of food or other things here and there throughout the camp.

Looking around Ranma nodded grimly, cutting down one man with Ice and smashing another aside with a blow to the face. Neither man would die, but they would be crippled. In an attack like this none of the defenders had a chance against him even if they would normally and the other men would kill enough. Ranma had so much blood on his hands already he wasn't in any hurry to add more.

Fenris had no such compulsion, and was roaring through camp, killing with impunity. Suddenly he stopped, staring at a crate set nearby in the open, far away from any tent. Ranma felt his worry, and pushed through the melee to join him staring at the crate. Looking around he grabbed one of the panicking men nearby pulling him close and smacking him upside the head pointing at the crate "What's in here?"

The man gulped and tried to get away, but Ranma's grip on his arm was like steel. "The Witch's warriors, no one knows what she does, how she gets them but…"

"Shadow Warriors!" Ranma scowled, letting the man go, before smacking him unconscious with an almost gentle backhand. He stared up at the sun than around at the camp before staring hard at Fenris. "Find any more of these, open them. We can't let a single one of these crates remain."

Though why didn't they use them already against the defenders of the Castle? Was the trap for Tytos and his men? Makes sense, but the day cleared up so much they are useless now.

While Ranma and Fenris hunted through the encampment his men had gotten bogged down. The initial surprise and shock of the assault had worn off, and here and there pockets of resistance began to form. None of them were large enough to make any real headway, which was made worse when Tristan Ryger and the rest of the defenders of Butterwell suddenly sortied, the drawbridge clanking down and the man within riding out while the archers on the wall went to work.

It wasn't a planned maneuver. The defenders had been awake enough to see the attack coming in, and Tristan had decided to take advantage of it. Now he rode at the head of his family's men shouting. "The rivers, the rivers for the King!"

Meanwhile Ranma sliced into another crate, wrenching Ice out as shadowy claws tried to reach out of the now open crate. Each crate seemed to contain about five Shadow Warriors. However when the light of day hit them in the now open crate, they shriveled and screamed before dissolving into nothing.

OOOOOOO

Melisandre grimaced angrily. "My trap has been sprung my Lord, but the Stark understood what was going to happen, he has destroyed all of my Shadow Warriors present in the camp."

Stannis however smirked. "So the Stark will now 'know' that he's spotted the trap and let down his guard, good." He nodded around him at a force of 3000 heavy cavalry. They were hidden spread out in a large ditch to the west of Butterwell, the scene of some long-ago river. Though given the fact that Stannis' horse was standing in four inch deep water, even though it was no longer raining and sunny for once, it might be a river once again soon.

"Pass the word, up and at them." He ordered, looking around at his commanders, Ser Richard Morrigen and Ser Alec Rogers, a knight of that House one of the lord's nephews who had impressed Stannis on the march. Both men nodded and moved off on their horses quickly.

OOOOOOO

Outside Butterwell the camp was still in total disarray, unable to really muster up any kind of large-scale resistance, outnumbered now along with being surprised and attacked from two directions. While his men continued the rout, Ranma and Fenris concentrated on destroying the caches of Shadow Warriors. Both direwolf and man breathed a sigh of relief when they couldn't find any more crates. Ranma hoped this would stop the attack on Butterwell, since that would allow him to use it as a staging ground around the route of Stannis' army, but that would be for the future.

He turned quickly however when somewhere in the distance a horn was blown three quick beads then one long one. Before Ranma could even reach the end of the camp another horn blew from the walls, loud and low. It didn't take a genius to know that something was wrong.

As he thought that a shout was raised from the edge of camp, terror lending it volume to carry over the ongoing battle. "Heavy cavalry coming from the southwest! Seven preserve us, there's thousands of them!"

Ranma stared wildly around, leaping up to stand on top of a spear stuck into the ground nearby, staring over the battle still going on at the oncoming cavalry. Dammit it was a trap, and I walked right into it! With a snarl Ranma placed his hands around his mouth bellowing. "Retreat east! All forces retreat east!"

With that Ranma jumped forward, bouncing over the heads of men and astonished horses alike, while Fenris followed him rapidly until they were out of the camp. Behind him the Wolfsworn took up the cry, shouting and grabbing at their men all around them pulling them away from the battle while the camp's remaining inhabitants shouted happily at this deliverance.

Ranma left his friends and Tytos to it, knowing one thing that could hopefully give them enough time to get out of this trap. Once free of the encampment around the castle's front, Ranma nodded and Fenris who sat on his haunches and howled. "AWOROOOROOO!"

He howled long and loud, putting as much energy and timber into it as he could. It was the kind of sound that had for thousands of years told practically every other animal that here was the alpha predator, run or become lunch.

The Royal Army cavalry forces had become acclimated to the sound of the direwolves howling and growling over time, with Fenris or before they left one of the others howling every morning and sometimes during the march to train them for it. The oncoming cavalry horses had never heard such a sound before. Not even when they went through the Kingswood and heard the sounds of normal wolves. A direwolf's howl was like no other. Thousands of those horses panicked, twisting and turning away, pushing and shoving at one another in their haste to get away, to turn aside from where the sounds coming from.

Behind Ranma the Wolfsworn continued to try and pull the light cavalry out of the camp, but it was hard going with the defenders now realizing that they had a chance to exact some revenge on their attackers. Tristan somehow fought his way through to stand beside Dacey scowling angrily and nodding his head at Lord Butterwell, who had remained glued to his side. "Why don't we fall back into the Castle?"

Dacey shook her head. "We can't! If we do that, they'll keep just keep sending those Shadow Warriors against us, we'll never get out and they'll overwhelm us eventually." Ranma might be able to get out himself, but none of the others would be able to.

"You're asking me to abandon my Castle!" Lord Butterwell growled angrily, while Smalljon appeared from behind him, pulling himself up into a horse's saddle while Hathan guarded his back.

"Better fled than dead." Roger barked, coming through the melee around them the Valyrian blade his wife had delivered to him red with blood while she stalked behind him. Osha's spear tip was also bloody, though her helmet was missing, and one of her arms was being cradled against her side. "We need to go, Ranma and Fenris won't scare their horses forever!"

Dacey nodded. "Go or stay Lord Butterwell, it's your choice but we are leaving!"

With that she spurred her horse forward. Joining the other Wolfsworn they hacked and slashed their way through the melee following the rest of the light cavalry as they began to trickle out of the camp, racing away. The archers and skirmishers of House Blackwood had either already died, as many had been surprised by the heavy cavalry, or fled into the woods to where the extra horses had been tethered.

Even with Ranma and Fenris howling and disrupting their horses, the charge had continued, and now the two of them were surrounded by heavy cavalry trying to hack and slash them down. The first few attackers to reachthem had been smashed from their horses, or the horses hacked out from underneath them by the direwolf and man, showing that lances really didn't work on someone as mobile as the two of them.

Ranma leaped up, landing on one such lance for a moment, balancing there in such a way that the man holding the lance didn't even feel his extra weight for just a second. Then Ice whirled around, decapitating that man slicing through armor and neck. Ranma then leaped off, cutting, stabbing, kicking and punching everywhere. For preference he tried to remain in the air jumping from one person's shield to another person's lance to another knight's horse, his punch lashing out and catching that man in the chest flinging him back with such force that he smashed two of his fellows out of their saddle to be crushed under the hoofs of their fellows, disrupting the charge further. "Winter is coming!"

Fenris snarled, his fangs piercing through plate mail and dragging a knight screaming from the saddle while one of his legs gutted another horse. Another knight brought down a large axe, but it shattered off Fenris's side, his fur acting like armor for a moment. The man gaped then died as Fenris leaped upwards, his front paw smashing the man out of the saddle with a scream before he turned grabbing a lance between his teeth and pulling that man down horse and all, before leaping from that man's corpse onto another knight.

The two of them however couldn't stop the entire charge. While around them a huge melee began with men trying to hack and slash at them the rest of the charge continued on its way, shouting as they went. "For the True King! The Reach, the Reach for the King! The Stormlands, Stormlands for Baratheon!"

The Wolfsworn were caught out in the open, but they stayed together, hacking several mounted armsmen and knights down, while around them more than two dozen of the light cavalry were caught as well. Heavy cavalry was one of the worst enemies of light cavalry. With their heavier armor both on man and horse any battle between the two groups would end with the light cavalry being simply ridden under.

From his position jumping around among the charging knights Ranma saw this, and also saw in the distance well back of the charge one group of warriors sitting on their horses and watching. Even from here he could make out what looked like blood-red hair on one of them, incongruously reminding Ranma of his female form from his past life. Yet I didn't have sparks of fire flashing from my fingers, he thought with a frown.

Behind where Ranma was still fighting the rest of the heavy cavalry had smashed into the camp, catching what forces had been unable to pull away, which included many of House Butterwell's men, but not the Lord himself. He had refused to retreat with the rest towards the east, instead falling back into his castle with most of his men, joining the archers from House Ryger and Wayn who had remained on the wall during the battle. They continued to fire at the attackers, but it was not enough to save their fellows still stuck outside when the drawbridge went up at Lord Butterwell's grim command. The Castle was safe now, but for how long?

Seeing the sparks in the witch's hands growing, Ranma snarled, dropping Ice for a moment. He then gathered his own energies in his hands bringing them down along his sides. Leaping backwards from where he had been standing on a rearing horse's head, Ranma brought his hands the sides snarling "Direwolf's Claw!" The new name he had decided on for the Kijin Raishin Dan.

The vorpal blades of the technique sliced through everything all around him, man, horse, armor mattered not at all. Everything in a set radius was sliced through. Ranma however gasped, barely landing on his feet as he fell to the bloody ground behind him. Using that technique took a lot out of him.

He turned as the last of the attackers in the near vicinity went down while the men not hit by the technique pulled their horses away retreating in sheer terror. All told the technique might've killed around four hundred men in a bare second.

Ranma however had other problems, a fireball hurled his way from the Red Witch at the same time he had cleared the area around him. Too close to dodge, Ranma was forced to hit it with his own attack, "Fierce Wolf's Roar!" A cerulean blue sphere impacted the fireball prematurely detonating it, but as the backwash of the blast reached him Ranma nearly sagged to his knees.

Projecting ki beyond his body without a physical connection was insanely hard for Ranma in this world, and for some reason it was getting harder over time, not easier with practice as it should. But the Red Witch seemed to have no similar problem with her magic. Already two more fireballs were forming in her hands.

Fenris moved up beside Ranma, his coat matted with blood and one eye shut due to the blood from a tiny cut right above it which had gotten through his armor technique. Despite being exhausted now Ranma was still defiant. Leaning on Fenris he picked up Ice from where he had dropped it, before shouting out towards Stannis. "Next time try to do your own dirty work, coward! We'll see if your blood is as black as your soul, Flame Fucker!"

With that he turned, flinging himself up onto Fenris' back. The direwolf howled once more, a deep, somehow contemptuous sound before turning and racing off so quickly he seemed to blur for a moment. Behind him a fireball suddenly crashed down into the ground where he had been standing, and even with his speed, another fireball almost nailed Fenris a second later, the explosion missing Fenris' tail by a hairsbreadth.

From where he had watched the battle Stannis' eyes had widened noticeably at whatever the Stark youth had done, then he paled as he saw the boy do something else to divert the first fireball Melisandre hurled at him. "What was that?" He asked, turning to Melisandre sharply, his eyes narrowed angrily. That first fireball would have possibly immolated some of his own men if it had hit Ranma.

For a moment Melisandre did not answer, casting the fireball that nearly caught Ranma and Fenris. Then she turned to look at him from her own horse, shrugging her shoulders. "I know not Azor Ahai. Some fell heathen magic from the so-called old ones, or mayhap the even more inhuman and demonic 'Children' of ancient song. It does not seem to have the range of my own blessed fires of R'hllor however, and if he had tried to attack us, my Fire Guard would have held him at bay while I worked my magics upon him. Even such as Ranma Stark could not survive a fireball tinged with the power of R'hllor!"

Stannis grunted noncommittally, surveying the carnage of the battle. He had hoped to capture either the leaders of the devilishly competent skirmishers that had been battering his foragers and scouts, or to take whatever reaction force Ranma Stark sent and wipe it out. He hadn't actually expected the boy to come himself, or for so many of his own personal force to get away, though he had planned for it just in case.

Killing the scouts he still had scattered beyond the fight took us too long, and the watchers on the wall saw us before we could encircle his force. After that, Stark reacted quickly and expertly, reading the situation and taking the only course of action that could save him and his men. Damned boy's as good as the tales made him as a leader at least, and as a warrior apparently. Yet without his personal skills, and that direwolf using his howl to scare the horses into panicking like that, we would have had them all. And now I have the measure of him now, which makes this a victory whatever else occurs.

"How many more Shadow Warriors do you have all told?"

"A small crate worth with us Azor Ahai, with another hundred or so scattered throughout the first echelon, and smaller packets with the others. I could make more of course." she asked smiling thinly.

"No." he replied sharply. "Unless your powers have suddenly evolved into illusions and trickery of that nature, there's not a place nearby where we could hide the sacrifices necessary. We'll have to make do. However…." he went on staring at the castle in the distance, the archers on the wall still firing at his men while they finished off the men still outside the wall.

"House Butterwell has decided to resist us. Send a few of them forward tonight. Order them to open the gatehouse, if they can, and if they cannot, or if you cannot order them to do so, then they are to slaughter all within." Stannis smiled grimly. "Perhaps after House Butterwell has fallen you can sacrifice their souls to make more of your little friends."

OOOOOOO

It took Ranma and the Wolfsworn about an hour or so to gather up the scattered remnants of the light cavalry and archers, and when they did Ranma went visibly shook his head. "A bare 600, we lost that much of the light cavalry?"

"Aye." Roger said shaking his head. "We lost another hundred or so screening the archers into the woods. I doubt all of them died but…" Roger didn't have to say that most of the soldiers who had been wounded or knocked out of the saddle hadn't been able to escape the sudden trap. "I have no idea if Stannis will take prisoners but even if he does given the rumors of the Witch, it might be best if they died in battle."

Tytos shook his head. "You were right Lord Stark, it was a trap, but it was one that could've taken the wolf."

Dacey shook her head. "We gave as good as we got Tytos, no, better! We probably killed at least three or four of them for every one of us that went down! Stannis didn't tell the men besieging Butterwell that he was nearby, or to expect us. That cost him nearly all of those men, and Ranma and Fenris killed who knows how many among the attackers."

"Maybe, but right now we got we have to assume that they'll be after as if they have any light cavalry of their own. Keep the men moving now, and through the night, I don't care about tiring the horses for now. We'll walk them tomorrow but for now keep moving."

As his men obeyed Ranma stared back over his shoulder. He somehow knew that Butterwell was going to be assaulted, and even knew what tools Stannis would use to do it. It was almost tempted to return and do what he could to defend the Castle, but the Red Witch held the range and endurance advantage over his own skills. Frankly Ranma was exhausted, and it was all he could do to keep on Fenris' back let alone run himself. Even so should I use Umi-Sen-Ken to get back there and ambush her?

No, I've underestimated her once already. Her powers don't just include Shadow Warriors and visions. She might be able to somehow sense me magically. And even I can't fight that many men and her at the same time in my current condition..

With a final scowl Ranma turned, running along with the rest of the light cavalry as they cantered throughout the rest of the day and deep into the night. Behind them that evening the castle of House Butterwell fell, with every man within put to the sword or sacrificed to make more Shadow Warriors.

OOOOOOO

"We're coming up on the point where we'll have to put too shore my Lord Stark." said the boatman to Jon. He was a local smallfolk man who had volunteered to man the barges along with several dozen of his fellows to transport Jon and his portion of the army as far south as they could go by the Blackwater Rush.

Jon did not turn away from where he was staring further downriver in the direction of where King's Landing was supposed to be. Every time they stopped over the past few days they had heard tales from the smallfolk about the capital's destruction, but more than one man couldn't truly understand or believe that King's Landing, the largest and most populated city in Westeros, was gone.

If we had time, I'd like to go and look at the ruins to see what was left of it, but we don't. "Put us ashore on the southern bank, Bertrand. Then I'm afraid will be leaving you and yours behind."

The smallfolk crews would be taking one of the barges back, while Jon and the others would have to carry the others overland to the Mander, which was supposedly three or four days journey for an army their size from here. Though of course they would be slowed by the need to carry their barges with them.

Jon couldn't afford to assume that they would be able to find similar barges on the Mander, and using the Blackwater alone had shaved off weeks of marching, which he had put to use in training the man in what they insisted on referring to as 'Stark tactics' every time they stopped.

He turned to his sister Arya, Edric, and Lord Beric along with the other commanders. "Let's get this organized." he ordered with a grim smile. "I'll want the boats roped in, the horses across and hitched up to the halters as soon as possible."

The journey from where they debarked along the Blackwater Rush to the Mander took over a week and a half. During this time Jon and his men got news of Stannis marching north, along with the news that he had sent a portion of his army back into the Reach to help clear out the Mander.

When he first heard that news, Jon had to squash the temptation to turn his force north in its wake. They could do a lot of damage attacking that army from behind.

But at the same time that the smallfolk shared that bit of news, word was beginning to spread from the Blue Bryn that another army had invaded from the Stormlands. The septon who shared that information with them was scowling angrily. "There have been reports coming out of the Stormlands my Lord, the Viper of Dorne has made an appearance with an army of mercenaries at his beck and call."

"Fuck!" Jon groaned. If the Reach were facing both Dornish invasion as well as the depredations from the Ironborn along the bottom half of the Mander, even knowing that aid had already been sent Jon could not in good conscience turn away. Not without having to answer to Ranma for it later, he thought ruefully.

With a sigh he pulled out a map, one of the many that had been copied in Riverrun during their stay there. It did not show a lot of detail, especially out of the Riverlands but it showed the courses of the rivers and the Royal Roads at least. "Can you tell me where along here you think the forces sent by Lord Stannis would be, and where you think the invaders could be?"

The septon traced the line of the Mander starting from its mouth and ending right before Oldflowers. "There have been raids and atrocities everywhere along here, and out along the river heavily to both sides. Several towns and villages have been wiped out or forced to evacuate by the Ironborn, but thankfully they only began to spread out from the river recently. The worst depredations are along the Mander itself, where a dozen villages have been burnt to the ground, and several House's keeps taken and burned."

"I know that Highgarden is dealing with a refugee problem. The septons there have called for aid from all the nearby septs, and the Lady Margaery has been said to have doubled or even tripled the size of the City Watch. She pays well, and demands they all be trained to a certain degree, further preparing the city for a siege, yet not causing panic among its citizens.

"Sound thinking." Jon murmured. "Go on."

"I have no idea where along the Blue Bryn the Viper is, my Lord, all I know is that rumor has it that the Viper's army is marching deep into the Reach rather than remaining on its outskirts, following the Blue Bryn. But there are a few Houses along that route. They might be able to get word to Tumbleton if you are able to convince that castle's seneschal that you should be able to contact them."

"I'll have to do speak to the man in any event. This is getting more complicated, and I think we need to tell the Lady Margaery that Ranma has made good the promise he and Daenerys sent, and what to expect from us." Jon frowned, wondering if he could convince whoever Lord Footly had left behind that he was acting in the best interests of the Reach as a whole, regardless of that houses stance on the ongoing dispute over kingship of Westeros.

To one side Lord Beric frowned scratching at his chin. "I want to send words to my house and my fiancée of course." He said, his voice low and filled with emotion. The two of them had been promised for years, and loved one another dearly. The bonds of duty were not light however, and he had been separated from her for a little over a year now. "But I cannot remember if Footly would have a raven trained to send to Blackhaven let alone Starfall."

"There is something else." The septon said hesitantly. "The forces of the Dornish Marches are gathering, save your own House my Lord, and that of House Tarly. But they are each taking to the field alone, and there seems to be no consensus among them on what direction to take. Two of them are marching for the Boneway, another for the Prince's Pass, a third is staying put and marching around in the Marches, while the fourth is apparently marching straight north, their destination unknown."

Jon groaned irritably before looking at Lord Beric. "You and Edric are the only two of us that have led or been in the Reach. Would Tumbleton have any ravens that could head down there? Do any of those Houses have any ties to Dorne or Stannis we should be wary of?"

Both younger and older man shook their heads indicating ignorance, and Jon sighed wearily. The task Ranma and Daenerys had set him was becoming more and more complex. "Back to my original question then, where would the forces Lord Stannis sent be by this point?"

"Almost to Bitterbridge my Lord, I know for a fact that is the case." The septon smiled thinly. "I am one of six brothers from my family, four of whom were forced to take the cloth, mainly because our farm was going to go to our oldest brother. We all stay in touch and one of my brothers serves in a village along the Rose Road near Bitterbridge."

"If they are, then I doubly hope we can convince whoever is in charge in Tumbleton to aid us. If we can, we can hopefully get in touch with the army Lord Stannis sent down. Regardless of anything else, is in both of our interest to deal with this mercenary army. And the Ironborn of course." Jon's voice however did not indicate much hope in that. This will not be easy…

OOOOOOO

"You know you don't have to come with us Desmera." Garlan said to the young woman before him, a good looking young woman who had just turned seventeen, with long brown hair tied up in a bun and the figure of a far younger girl. Desmera Redwyne, unlike his sister Margaery, was a late bloomer. The end result would still no doubt be stunning of course, and the hints were already there.

The two of them were standing next to the plank leading up tothe war galley Shield's Honor, named in honor of the coming campaign against the Ironborn. It would be the last one to leave the port of Oldtown, and they were pushing it now to catch the tide. As evidenced by the glare the Captain, Joras, was giving him from the deck.

Still he had to try one more time to convince his cousin that she didn't have to come with them. The battlefield was no place for a woman, Garlan already had enough nightmares about what could've happened to his sister if his force hadn't arrived when it did, he didn't want anymore. Besides, I'm bringing her brothers along, those idiots are enough of a nightmare.

That unfortunately was true. Horas, the idiot who had been attempting to woo Margaery on her trip back from King's Landing, had made a fool of himself more than once on the march. And Hobber was even worse. One incident in particular had almost made Garlan hang the two of them for rape. And if not for the gold both brothers carried and handed off to the girl and her family, enough to agree when asked that it was consent, he would have too. Garlan was a knight, and took his vows seriously.

Horas and Hobber did not. They were the worst examples of what his grandmother Olenna had called 'Summer knights', young un-blooded idiots with a sense of immortality and an arrogance unbecoming of a knight, no matter how nobly born. They were also frankly slow of mind, idiots pure and simple. Garlan was of the opinion that if either became Lord Redwyne, it would be a bad day for the House, made worse by current circumstances. Their cousin Desmond was worth fifty of them.

"I owe it to my father, and to all those men and women who died trying to defend the Arbor, who have died since the Ironborn have taken it. I need to go." Desmera replied, though her lips and jaw trembled. If they lost this battle, Desmera would be sending herself into the hell that she had so-luckily escaped from. That thought terrified her, but Desmera couldn't turn away from it, not after hearing so much about her cousin's stand at the battle of Oldflowers.

Actually, if Margaery learned that Desmera was going into danger like this, Margaery would've been the first person to tell her not to and would tan her hide if she could. Margaery had gone to Oldflowers and made her stand there because she felt it was her duty but she would never ask any other woman to do the same, especially not her cousin, a sweet child and one of the finest examples of a normal noblewoman that could be found.

In comparison to her older brothers though, she at least understood that she wasn't the smartest person, and was willing to ask for aid. She also took her duties seriously, and wasn't prideful.

Garlan stared at Desmera for a moment then shrugged. "So long as you explain it to my grandmother when word gets out that you've asked to come with us, I'll allow it."

The younger woman grimaced, but nodded resolutely and followed Garlan aboard the ship.

About forty minutes later they had left the port joining up with the rest of the fleet heading out through the Whispering Sound. It would take them a bare two days to clear the Sound even with autumnal weather against them. The fleet consisted of over 90 galleys, though only thirteen of them were war galleys with the rest being converted merchantmen. However House Hightower had poured forth its effort and its coin to man and arm those ships for war, above and beyond what they routinely carried as secondary ships of the Redwyne fleet.

Every captain among the fleet knew that this war would be a tough one, knew that the Iron Fleet might well be ready for them. After all, none of them were very experienced at full fleet maneuvers, but they were experienced sailors, and knew that the Ironborn were among the most dangerous opponent anyone could face at sea.

Garlan too knew that he was no fleet admiral, so he had come up with a plan that was simple yet unstoppable. They would make straight for the Arbor's main port, Starfish Harbor, daring the Ironborn to try and stop them, keeping all of his ships close together so that they couldn't be picked off or diverted.

It was surprise, numbers and those Seven-damned fire ships that they sent in first that allowed the Ironborn to take the Arbor in the first place. But they paid for it badly, and their fire ships aren't a surprise any longer. If they try it again on the open sea against us we'll be ready.

The devastation of the fire ships was something that the captains of the surviving ships had informed Garlan about once they were discussing planning. No one knew how the hell the Ironborn had found enough fanatics, and it had to be fanatics given their fates even when they were able to perform their mission successfully, to man the ships. With the tales of magic returning growing in strength, and his own knowledge of the Seven-sent miracles that had hastened his army on their way to Oldflowers Garlan was worried that it might be a sign up that the Ironborn had access to magic.

To combat this, he had gone to the Citadel, demanding to talk to the Archmaesters and maesters there. But most of them were dismissive of his concerns or contemptuous and refused to see him. Garlan had to go to Gunthor and get his aid to force them to see him, and even then most professed to know nothing about magic. However, one of them, Archmaester Marwyn, had agreed to come with him, saying he might be able to do something to combat any offensive magics used against the fleet.

But even without Marwyn's aid, Garlan would still have put to sea and would have still assaulted the Ironborn. They had spilled too much Reach blood, too much family blood for him to do anything less. And they don't have Victarion anymore, and everything I've seen about Balon Greyjoy tells me he's overconfident.

Turning with a smile he watched Lady Redwyne be shown down into the war galley's interior to her quarters before turning to stare forward along the ships route. Next to him Gunthor and Garth Hightower joined him, leaning against the railing of the ship alongside Garlan, staring ahead. Garth, the oldest and best of the two in terms of combat ability, asked, "What do you think we'll find on the Arbor?"

No rumor of what had been going on in the Arbor had escaped since the remnants of the Redwyne fleet fled. The Arbor was a large enough island that there were several holdfasts in its interior. From what Garlan had been told by the Two Idiots, they were mainly based as the center points for the huge vineyards where the wine that gave house Redwyne its name and much of its income. Most of them weren't very modern, but they were all situated in decent defensive position which no doubt would have given the Ironborn trouble in taking them.

Garlan for one hoped that most of the smallfolk of the island had retreated into those keeps, which were run by knights in service to House Redwyne. Most of those were not truly martial men, rather managers for the vineyards given knighthoods, but some were simply older knights given cushy jobs in their declining years. Men like that could be expected to lead spirited, and well planned defenses.

"It could be very bad around the ports and the towns, though hopefully not as bad as it could be."

"You don't believe that any more than I do." Said Gunthor shaking his head. "I think whatever we imagine, the reality will be far worse."

Garlan nodded sadly, his eyes hardening noticeably, and his hand twitching on his sword while he urged the ship on, the three men falling silent. We have justice to deliver, vengeance to take, and hopefully some countrymen and women to save.

OOOOOOO

Balon Greyjoy scowled angrily as he gulped down one of the most expensive bottles of wine that the Redwyne vineyards ever produced. It had been put down forty years earlier and kept by Lord Redwyne's for the birth of his first grandson. The wine that was supposed to have been used on that happy occasion slopped into Balon's beard and down his shirt, joining the other stains that had spread there previously.

Despite their initial success, the Ironborn had not had an easy time of it, at least in their own terms. Yes, they controlled the ports, and most of the island. They had taken more treasure and goods than any had in decades of clandestine raiding, more even then they had in Balon's first attempt to rebel. But Balon had wanted more than simply to raid the Arbor, he'd wanted to conquer it, and so far he had failed.

Despite his penchant for not caring about the lives and his own people, for throwing them at any fight and assuming they would win through with their skill and determination, even Balon Greyjoy knew some battles were hopeless. While there were several dozen small streams leading deeper into the Arbor from the sea that allowed his ships to move around, not one of them was near any of the holdfasts that dotted the island. And those small keeps now held a portion of the population of the islands scattered here and there. So long as they held out, his conquest was not complete.

Worse, the Ironborn had spent so much time pillaging the ports of the island that the smallfolk deeper in to the islands interior had been able to gather up supplies before retreating into the keeps. So they had enough supplies to last them through the months since, and more besides.

Balon knew it was only a matter of time, and had sent crews of two ships to each of the seven keeps spread around the island. One of the keeps had even fallen a few weeks back to a surprise night raid. Germund Botley had maneuvered two scorpions through the night to target the keep's main gate. When they fired, the bolts smashed it down. allowing his men access to its interior. Needless to say after they had that access, the battle was over. Numerous the defenders might have been for a keep of that size, but they weren't very well trained, and very poorly led.

But that was the only bit of success they had in the interior of the island. And over the past few months a resistance force had sprung up. Not in any of the ports where his men ruled with grips of steel, but the supplies heading further inland to his forces besieging the various keeps were under almost constant attack. They'd hung thousands of men, killed dozens of known saboteurs and rebels, but still the smallfolk of this island fought back.

Terror should have given me this victory from the outset, he thought morosely, not for the first time. But then they began to fight back, then those first two keeps we assaulted threw back our attacks. That gave these bastards courage and they continue to defy me even now. And so long as they do, my plans are stalled.

Balon wanted to become the Islands King, and by that he meant king of every island, but he couldn't even conquer this one island, not completely. The Shield Islands he knew had fallen utterly. Victarion had sent him news of that, along with several ships from House Botley and others from Pyke. Though for some reason Balon hadn't heard from his brother in more than a month now. Balon put that down to his brother personally leading the assault up the Mander, and approved of it.

The captains are beginning to mutter about returning to the Iron Islands. They've taken enough plunder to fill their hulls with booty, and every man among them has at least two new salt wives, they want to return home with their Iron bought gains as they should before coming out to raid again. Indeed, Balon would've already lost at least a dozen captains to that desire if not for his orders that every woman should be kept ashore in the old Redwyne keep, which he and those loyal to him controlled. The amount of booty was astonishing, and would make all of their houses far better off once they returned it to the iron islands, but for now Balon needed that control to continue his conquest of the Arbor.

He slammed his flagon down angrily, sloshing the expensive wine again this time onto the table of Lord Redwyne's main Hall, staring across at his brother her Aeron, who suddenly lifted his head staring at Balon hard from the same odd bowl that he had used to watch the progress of the fire ships. "There is a fleet coming out of the Whispering Sounds." Aeron reported crisply. "90 strong, most of their ships appear to be converted trade ships that the Redwyne's seem to use so much. They are coming to reclaim the island."

"90 ships?" Balon said, ignoring his wine now as he stared at his brother. "90? That must be the Reach's entire remaining fleet! Good." He smiled, seeing suddenly another larger and even richer prize could be possible then completing the conquest of the Arbor.

I wanted to be King of all the Islands, but conqueror of Oldtown sounds just as sweet on the tongue. If we smash that fleet, the way to Oldtown will be open. And I would bet that old man Leyton has sent most of his armsmen to man those ships as well. Kill the fleet and move on quickly enough, and we could surprise the few remaining defenders of one of the largest cities in Westeros.

With that in mind Balon leaned forward intently. "Tell me, have you figured out any more magic you can use directly? Anything that could tip the balance in our favor when battle is joined?"

"I have indeed." Aeron said, his smile widening into her shark's grin. The Drowned God blesses those who feed him well. Once battle is joined and bodies are falling into the sea, falling into his realm, I will be able to do something to aid us..."

OOOOOOO

Elsewhere in the same ocean, about another week's journey away from the Arbor having just passed the last of the Summer Sea and heading into the Sunset sea, a lone longships sailed. It had made its way perilously through the autumn gales and storms from Essos alone. On it there was only one man able to speak, all the other men aboard having had their tongues removed and he always did so to himself.

"I wonder if either of my brothers still live. I sent word to start killing off the remnants of my family already, but I have no idea which of them might fall first. Asha?Victarion?Balon himself? The possibilities are endless and amusing to contemplate, but Balon would've been my main choice. Still, if he was with the force taking the Arbor I don't doubt he's still alive. And if Victarion isn't with him, I could perhaps persuade him to let me come back."

"Or at least close enough to do the deed myself. I wonder if the gods really do strike down kinslayers? There are so few laws against man and nature that I haven't broken, so what's one more godly punishment added to the list?" Euron Greyjoy laughed at his own joke, tapping a large silver enameled horn resting on the table in front of him in his room, while the Silence continued on its course toward the Redwyne Straits.

OOOOOOO

It took Balon Greyjoy several days to gather his scattered crews and get them back on their ships once more. Even then he had to leave 300 men behind to retain control of the port of Starfish Arbor along with the keep therein. Balon knew that having pulled so many of his crews back out of the country side of the island and away from the keeps there he would lose what progress they had gained in grinding the smallfolk's resistance, but it had to be done. He would need that manpower whatever his brother might be able to accomplish with magic.

Overall, this gave him 62 ships, 34 from the Iron Fleet. Once all the longships were gathered, they made their way northwest through the Redwyne Straits towards the Whispering Sound, hoping to catch the Reach fleet as it exited the Sound, but they were too slow to gather for that.

Instead the two fleets caught sight of one another near the edge of the Redwyne Straits. In fact they were both within sight of Three Towers, House Costayne's castle which sat on the Dornish isthmus of the Whispering Sound.

Balon smiled grimly. Looking over to where Aeron and the four remaining Drowned Men stood all around the bowl they used to somehow concentrate their powers or worship or whatever it was they did to summon up the powers given to them by the found God. "Prepare your magics brother. Battle calls."

On Shield's Honor, Garlan nodded grimly looking over at Marwyn smirking slightly. "Normally I would ask a Archmaester to hide himself down below with battle this close. But you have the look of a man who has seen his share of fighting before this."

"Barroom brawls, some adventures of a misspent youth." the Archmaester replied dryly, holding what certainly appeared to be a Valyrian short sword in one hand. He also wore chain mail of excellent quality, crafted apparently by the man himself.

His eyes were serious as he stared at Garlan. "If the Drowned God has truly begun to give its worshipers powers again, I will be able to combat them somewhat, I'll be able to inform you of what they are doing and where, but that might be all. I have read books and studied magic from books and stories, but this will be my first time attempting to put my learning into practice."

"Then I suggest you get to the back of the ship, good Archmaester." Garlan said with a wide vicious grin. "I'll not keep this ship back when battle calls."

The man laughed, but stayed where he was. Turning away from the older man, Garlan took a moment to nod at the four men who he had stationed by the entrances to the ship it interior. Those men, all of House Redwyne, would be the ones to guard the ships interior from anyone trying to get past them. They were a last line of defense for his cousin and the very few other noncombatants aboard the ship.

With that done he turned to Joras and a small cabin boy who was almost dancing with eagerness. "The fleet will advance. For the Reach, for the Seven, and for justice!"

Joras nodded grimly, that was short sweet and to the point, exactly how he liked his pre-battle speeches. He nodded to the boy who turned racing up the mast like a monkey. From the crow's nest he put out the signal flags to signal the fleets to prepare for battle.

A few hours passed as the fleets closed with one another, moving from bare blips on the horizon to actual ships, with each fleet slowly spreading out. The Iron Fleet ships took the fore, while their smaller brethren gathered on either side of their line. The Iron Fleet ships kept to a decent formation, the other Ironborn ships did not. All told Garlan estimated that they numbered somewhere around half his total strength or a little more.

In contrast the ships of House Redwyne formed into two somewhat neat lines despite most of them being converted merchant ships rather than war galleys. The war galleys including Garlan's flagship took position in the center of both lines. Every ship was assigned a different unit, four ships which would work in concert if the battle became a general one. That, the lines along with the order to keep the range open as much as possible was all Garlan felt up to ordering as a fleet commander, something Desmond, on his own ship the Herald, agreed with. Now with battle on the way, Garlan was simply another knight waiting, waiting for the boarding actions to begin as they inevitably would.

The range closed quickly, and around Garlan the war galleys scorpions went to work, throwing out their bolts towards the opposing ships while all around them the other ships of the first line did the same. The second line of ships began to spread to either side, while the front line began to back oars, furling their sails, turning slightly to bring more of their scorpions to bear on the enemy than just the two that could be turned to face forward.

A moment later the Iron Fleet began to return fire, the number of launchers minimal in comparison to the Reach galleys, each Iron Fleet ship only mounting two or at best three while even the smallest war galleys mounted four and Garlan's flagship mounted six. The ships of the first line now had turned enough to bring their full weapons along one side to bear, and they began to fire even more rapidly as the men manning the scorpions on the other side of the ships hurried to aid their fellows.

Garlan estimated that at least six Iron Fleet ships had sunk already, but wind began to favor the Ironborn, hastening their closing speed. From where he was helping the effort on the oars, Garlan saw Marwyn scowl angrily. He held up his staff, which seemed to be lined with a band of stone or some kind along with a bronze tip,muttering an incantation.

The staff came down pointing directly at one Ironborn ship, not astonishingly the largest in the Greyjoy fleet. "There is someone on that ship trying to mess with the weather! He's not succeeding overmuch, and…" He broke off smiling as he felt something with his own magical senses. "Ah, that would be why no one tries to control the weather."

The wind that had been aiding the Ironborn suddenly slackened. This caused all of their ships to have to go to oar power. This slowed their advance enough for another few ships to fall under the weight of fire from Garlan's forces. But the Redwyne Navy now started to take casualties.

Two ships along one side of the front column fell out of formation, almost crashing into one another so close were they before they were able to get control. A war galley to places down the line from Shield's Honor floundered, a lucky scorpion bolt having caught it amidships right at the water line. It was sinking quickly, and the men aboard it moved to the two rowboats kept on the center of the ship to unload the troops.

"Whoever is over there should've stuck to spells affecting the waves. No magic user can control the weather, it's too powerful a force, too interconnected!" Marwyn seemed to almost go off into a tangent there for a moment before shaking his head. "That ship holds those wielding magic however, we'll need to smash it quickly. I feel magic in the air and waves, not affecting it but sending something, some kind of command deep into the ocean as if searching for… something."

"Can you disrupt whatever it is?" Garlan asked intently.

The man shook his head, small brief flashes of yellow light showing up around the tip of his staff, which he was waving it in the air. "No! There are too many minds at work. It's a joint working, I've never seen one of those before except some of the old Pre-Fall Valyrian tomes. I'm trying to cut them off from their power source, the men that have already drowned, but somehow they're taking the energy of those drownings and…"

From the east there was the sound of something exploding up out of the waves. Almost immediately it was followed by a harsh cry of terror coming from many throats, and the two men turned to stare, aghast.

What Aeron and the other Drowned Men had summoned was a horror of the depths. Sharks came up, ready to feast on all and sundry, ignoring their normal desire to stay away from ships at sea. Here and there other nameless things arose, creatures of scales and bone, feeding on the bodies of those sinking as the Drowned God fed on their souls.

But those were mere sideshows, brought up by the force of the summoning, not the actual target. The target of Aeron Damphair's summoning spell was a single creature: a massive kraken the symbol of his house pulled from the deepest depths. What Garlan could see of its body was longer than a war galley, and its tentacles, each of them featuring thousands of sharp seeming suckers, was far longer. There were at least 15 of those tentacles, possibly more underneath the waves, with two even longer than the others.

"Seven preserve us…" As Garlan watched in horror the monster assaulted four of the war galleys along that side, smashing their masts off the ships with furious strength, while other tentacles wrapped around the ships hulls causing the wood to creak and groan from the strain of its grip. The men on those ships screamed, some of them running and diving into the ocean in an effort to get away while others grabbed up axes and swords hacking at the rubbery flesh of the tentacles. But that rubbery substance resisted their blows, while their fellows screamed and died under the teeth of the sharks.

Garlan growled, then turned to Joras. "Forward!" He shouted. "Aim us towards the ship that Archmaester Marwyn pointed out! We must sink that ship!" He turned back to Marwyn. "Can you do anything to disrupt this now?"

The man gritted his teeth shaking his head angrily, his staff raising into the air once more. With that gesture more magical lights appeared from the end of his staff and he stared hard at the kraken. "Fuckkkk… I'm trying to break their control, but I don't know what will happen if I do! It could simply turn on them as well, that's better than nothing… but… I'm not… getting through! If we can kill one maybe two of the minds that are controlling this, I might be able to overwhelm the others, but that's all I can promise!"

"Then it comes down to steel!" Garlan nodded grimly pulling out his sword and readying himself as the Ironborn ships continued to close. Shield's Honor pushing forward, with the majority of the first line moving with it. The other Iron Fleet ships fired on Shield's Honor, but did not hit him, sinking one of his fellows but losing four in turn, opening up the way towards his target.

On his own flagship the Great Kraken Balon saw the oncoming war galley coming towards him, and pulled on his helm, readying himself grimly. "Protect Aeron and the other Drowned Men!" He ordered his sailors, who nodded and raised their own blades. "Protect them, and they will give us this victory!"

Even the Ironborn didn't want to get too close to the kraken, skirting around it to do battle with the Redwyne galleys which did the same save for the units under assault. The remaining ships that could still move under their own power went to their fellow's aid, firing scorpion bolts at the creature. These seemed to have an effect, sticking deep into the creature's tentacles, and one lucky shot actually caught the body of the beast.

It wasn't deep enough to cause much damage, but it let go with some of its tentacles from the four ships that it had been attacking, trying to lash out at the closest of those attacking it. One was able to remain out of range, but the other couldn't back oars fast enough, and was caught by the two largest tentacles.

Staring back Garlan nodded grimly at that, satisfied that the kraken at least was concentrating too much on those ships to do damage to the rest of his fleet. IF it had simply begun hit and run attacks and kept below the waves we might have been lost. Morale would have broken, and the reserve ships at least would have cut and run.

The rest of his fleet was doing well, trying in the main to keep the range open, save the war galleys around Shield's Honor which had followed his lead in closing. They were wreaking a horrible toll on the Ironborn ships, in particular the smaller longships which couldn't take more than one or two scorpion bolts before sinking.

That was the last moment Garlan had to take in the full battle before Shield's Honor slammed almost proud to prowl with the Iron Fleet flagship. "Across and at them! For the Reach! Growing Strong!"

Garlan was among the first men to hurl themselves over the ships' railings on to the longship, followed by Gunthor, Garth, and several others, including Horas and Hobber. They slammed into the Ironborn, but they had been ready for the Reach charge. The two sides hacked and slashed at one another, the battle spreading across the deck of the Ironborn ship quickly, as well as Shield's Honor, with another Ironborn ship coming along the other side hurling its own man across.

War galleys traditionally carried around 300 men, 200 or so who were dedicated armsmen to be used on the scorpions or during boarding actions. The other hundred however were still decent fighters at least at sea, not as good as the armsmen, and certainly not as well armored, but decent enough. Shield's Honor carried another 200 men, roughly equaling the numbers the two crews of the Iron Fleet longships.

And while these men were mostly 'summer knights', young man who had reached their majority since the first Greyjoy Rebellion, this did not mean they were soft any longer. Not after the marching, not after the battle they had seen at Oldflowers. Not after the constant training that Garlan had put them through while the fleet was made ready in Oldtown. The Ironborn were combat veterans by this point one and all, so the training between the two was relatively comparative.

It became a bloody and brutal affair quickly, men dying on both sides, with no one really understanding the flow of the greater battle or having any time to spare for it. None save Aeron and his fellow Drowned Men at least, who were protected for the moment by the rest of the crew. Yet they were concentrating on the bowl, keeping the kraken from retreating now that it had taken injuries.

Garlan hacked one man down, quickly turning, bringing his blade up and around to block the fall of a mace, kicking out hard to catch that man in the leg sending him falling to one side. Even as that happened, he turned engaging two other men with sword and shield, knocking them backwards. This knocked the shield of one out of position long enough for Garlan to get a thrust in catching him in the upper chest and punching through his chain mail to find his heart.

The other man roared in anger, but was felled from behind by Garth, who nodded his head at Garlan then went back to back with Gunthor, hacking and slashing it more Ironborn as they it assailed them. Garth was the better swordsman, and protected his younger brother well, but Gunthor too was acquitting himself decently.

Garlan nodded back at both men, noting that two other brothers, Horas and Hobber were nearby, both of them sporting injuries and looking rather panicky. Even as he watched they both shouted something to one another, the words of which he could not hear over the sound of battle, and broke back towards the Shield's Honor.

"FUCKING COWARDS!" Garlan bellowed, then had no time left to look elsewhere. Roaring he charged forward, bulling into the man with a mace, throwing him backwards with a shoulder rush. At the same moment Garlan pulled out a dagger with his shield arm. Stabbing his opponent underneath his chain mail right below the belt he was then forced to turn swiftly, catching another Ironborn's sword on his own throwing that man back with a grimace of effort, his arms and shoulders burning.

A second later Garlan winced, shield blocking another man's blow, but that man went down to a spear to the gut from one of the seamen who went down in turn to a slash that opened up his side. That left the way clear for his killer to move towards Garlan. His helmet was more ornamented than most, his movements somewhat slower, but certain. Eyes that seemed older than most of the combatants stared out from behind his helm as he glared at Garlan. "We Do Not Sow! I will send you to the drowned God, Tyrell!"

"Growing Strong!" Garlan roared and charged Balon Greyjoy going sword to sword with him for a moment before his greater strength threw the older man backwards.

He recovered quickly however, ducking to one side and throwing his blade up in an intricate series of slashes aimed to attack Garlan's shield and lag on that side of his body. Only Garlan jumping away for a moment saved his leg from the attack, but he took the other attacks on his shield, coming back and bulling forward bringing his own sword around into a series of attacks that drove Balon backwards.

As their blades locked once more Balon scowled harshly. "When you and your fleet dies, Oldtown will be ours for the taking! Everyone will know the true strength of the Ironborn, never again will we bow to greenlander kings!"

In response Garlan laughed high and cold. "My sister killed your brother Victarion, you know. He assaulted Oldflowers, and was even able to get inside to keep before he was killed by Margaery. A simple knife to the eye. So much for the vaunted Greyjoy strength! We burned his body and all those of his raiders too!"

Balon growled, trying to throw the other man back off his feet. "That's a dirty lie! And you'll pay for it!"

But Garlan was the stronger of the two and he pushed back easily keeping his feet while still speaking. "You think you're strong, you think you're fearsome, but a maiden with no training in war was able to kill your brother! And all of your successes have come against opponents that didn't see you coming! So how strong or fearsome are you really?"

Balon was so enraged he couldn't help but rush forwards, hacking and slashing like a mad beast, but Garlan was cool and calculated as he met him blow for blow with his sword or blocked with his shield. Said shield was soon battered into uselessness, so he quickly cast it aside. Now wielding his sword one-handed, he eventually was able to redirect Balon's sword to one side enough to get within his guard, smashing a gauntleted fist into the man's gorget.

Balon backed off quickly, his hands going to his throat and ripping the battered piece of metal away before could begin to choking, but Garlan was on him before he could set himself anew. Desperately the Ironborn King raised his sword, to block the vast overhand blow, but the attack shattered his sword. He thrust forward with the remnants of the blade, but it skittered across Garlan's chest plate not penetrating and Garlan's blow continued downwards, catching Balon between the neck and shoulder driving him down to the deck.

"So much for your strength," Garlan growled. Pulling his sword out he raised it hacking at the man's now open neck slicing it off not cleanly, but certainly enough to end Balon Greyjoy's life. "Go to your drowned God!"

While the death of their leader like that would have demoralized any other force entirely, the Ironborn hardly noticed. A few men of House Greyjoy did and began to fall back, but that was all.

Yet even so, the battle was slowly going against the Ironborn. No other longship had come to the initial two longship's aid, and the quality of the Reach armsmen had begun to tell against the Ironborn. The Iron Islanders had grown somewhat complacent and lazy since the victory against house Redwyne, very few of them believing in training constantly when there was rape and plunder to enjoy.

While Garlan began to shout orders to try to instill some more organization into the chaos Garth and Gunthor had corralled some of their men and devised a small shield wall. Behind this a few of the sailors moved with heavy spears. This wedge of men moved toward where Marwyn had discerned that the control spell for the kraken and the other water beasts were coming from, the maester following after them, his staff red with blood along one end.

They burst through the last of the defensive cordon, and Garth was about to raised his sword to stab one of the men kneeling around the odd plate with water in it when master healer stopped him. "Wait! Guard my back for moment."

Garth looked at the man askance but did so turning to engage other Ironborn as they rushed to the Drowned Men's aid. But the men of Hightower held, pushing the Ironborn back, while Garlan diverted more of the armsmen to their aid through the melee. However nearby another longship seemed to be coming closer to them now, which Gunthor saw standing slightly above the tumult of battle at the raised aft portion of the longship. "Whatever you're doing Archmaester Marwyn do it quickly!"

Marwyn smirked staring into Aeron's eyes, who he could tell was the center of this group working. Sweat was beading on the man's face, but he couldn't pull his attention entirely away from the spell, couldn't even move really. It was taking all of the concentration he and the other Drowned Men had to keep feeding power into their spell.

All he could do was stare angrily up at Marwyn, as he stood muttering words and raising his staff. He brought it down, not on the Damphair's head, but to smash the bowl that was the fulcrum of their spell.

The backlash of having the spell broken like that threw all of the Drowned Men backwards from the bowl, and they began to scream loudly. "GYAAAHHHHhhhhhh!" Without the ability to concentrate and no longer being fed by the power of those drowning all around them, the control spell began to feed off them, and they couldn't stop it.

"Amateurs." Marwyn muttered, spitting to one side. "Never do a working if you don't know the consequences of its failure."

Then he turned, moving with a speed that most would not have thought him able to standing on the bulwarks of the ship and staring over to where the kraken had been fighting against four Reach war galleys, the others having sunk. The kraken was almost absentmindedly tossing men into its gaping maw with a few of its tentacles, while it battled the remaining two ships in its range with the others.

Now however it flailed about wildly for a moment, then pulled back its tentacles from its victims, disappearing underneath the water. However the maester mage could tell it wasn't quite finished yet. There was one more repercussion from breaking the spell as he had. Cupping his mouth Marwyn bellowed as loudly as he could. "Back to the ship! Back to the ship and push us off, the kraken is coming!"

Garlan shook his head in wonderment then began to bellow the same thing. One did not question an expert on his craft in the middle of battle after all. All around him the men heard the call, falling back to their ship while the Ironborn tried to stop them. It was a tough, desperate battle for a few moments, and then the kraken arrived, its tentacles rising up through the water. At the site of that the Ironborn lost heart, all of them turning and running towards the side of their ships tossing themselves overboard allowing the men of the Reach to finally move back to their own ship.

More than half the crew began to push off desperately, trying to separate the two ships, while Garlan and others took up greatswords and hacked at any of the tentacles that came close to their own vessel. But the kraken didn't seem interested in them any longer. No, it concentrated its assault on the Great Kraken and stuffing it's maw with as many of the delectable treats in the water already as it could.

Eventually there was a roar of triumph as the man on the oars were able to push the ships apart, pushing the ships further and further apart while other men readied the sales. The wind caught, and the war galley began to pull away from the beleaguered longship.

Behind them the kraken ignored Shield's Honor, dragging the longship down into the waters as its tentacles crushed it sides. Aeron was the only one among the Drowned Men to be powerful enough to still be aware of his surroundings even after the magical backlash, and he stared as the ship capsized slightly, allowing him to stare directly down into the jaws of the kraken. "Drowned God forgi…"

That was as far as he got before a tentacle swept him and his fellows down the deck towards the waiting mouth. Such was the true, caring, concern that the Drowned God and its beasts gave the men who worshiped him.

With its controller's dead, the kraken submerged once more, disappearing down into the depths of the ocean having eaten its fill. The rest of the summoning spell dissipated as well, the sharks and other beasts of the depths soon joining it.

The battle continued even after that for several more hours, the Ironborn simply having no ability whatsoever to realize when they were beaten. Without Balon, the kraken, Aeron or his magics, the organization and the range advantage of the Reach war galleys and converts won the battle. If not for the sacrifice of the ships that fought the kraken so bravely it could've been different, , especially if Aeron had been able to summon up another one of those beasts, but as it was the battle was won.

Every single longship that took part in the battle was sunk. Not a single longship had retreated, but they had lost too many of their ships in closing to grappling range for the wider battle to work out in their favor, especially after the magic holding the kraken had been broken. There had been a sighting of one longship far off in the distance before it was out of sight over the horizon. But one longship wouldn't be able to stop the 64 remaining ships of the Reach.

It was just 64 ships, and even those ships had less men been they started with. There wasn't a single ship that had been damaged enough to send back to Oldtown that had not subsequently sunk. And if a sink began to sink, that was usually it for the men aboard. Putting to sea in their rowboats had been a death sentence for both sides of the conflict. Aeron's summoned creatures didn't care who they ate, the feeding frenzy had cost thousands of lives on both sides that might have otherwise been saved.

Even so, Garlan estimated that of his original force of thirteen thousand he had somewhere over eleven thousand remaining, the sailors and men of Redwyne and Hightower having done much of the dying in this battle. Despite those losses however, the way to the Arbor was clear, and the surviving ships quickly turned their course in that direction.

That night Garlan sat in a chair in his quarters on his ship, sighing tiredly as he pulled off his armor looking over at Marwyn for a moment. "We have you to thank for this victory Archmaester Marwyn. Without you spotting the ship those iron-loving bastards were directing their magic from, we might have been forced to fight through the entire fleet."

Marwyn took a long swig from a wine bottle before replying. "BURRRRP, ahhh… Even worse, that spell was incomplete. All those beasts and even the kraken were what could be gathered in quickly. Shoddy work! If they had waited until they had more power, they could've pulled three or four of those beasties up to fight for them. Amateurs."

"How do you know all this, do records of such survive in the citadel?"

"I would say that they only survive in the Citadel, and even then only because I have hidden them in such a way that my fellow Maesters will not find them. Such magics among the Drowned Men were known during the Age of Heroes but after that age magic began to fade, a decline that sped up quickly after the fall of the Valyrian Freehold. And every invasion of the Iron Islands made at an attempt to stamp the Drowned God worship out, destroying more knowledge. I honestly have no idea how they recovered it frankly."

He smiled. "I myself actually have no idea how they were doing what they were doing, only the effects, and how to stop it. I can call myself an expert in magic, but frankly no one in this day and age is. Too much knowledge has been lost over the ages or willfully destroyed. We may have to re-create everything from scratch. Well almost…" he smirked, touching his chain and the staff at his side. "Some things still are known, at least to me."

"So you don't think we'll run into more magic when we take the Shield Islands?"

"I doubt it. Frankly I bet Greyjoy gathered every Drowned Man who knew even an inkling of such and took them with him on this assault. Now, are you going to fulfill your end of the bargain?"

Garlan looked at the older man thoughtfully. Marwyn had acquiesced to joining them on this campaign only under sufferance. Yes his expertise had been needed, but more importantly to him, Marwyn had wanted to go north and wanted either a land escort or ships to see him there. "Can you tell me why you want to go north?"

"I would've thought that was obvious." Marwyn said scoffing. "Magic has returned to the world, the Glass candles are lit. Do you know what that means?"

He sighed when Garlan shook his head. "It means that winter is coming, not just winter as a season, but winter as in the forces of winter, the White Walkers. They march, and all of Westeros should be preparing to meet them."

He shook his head sadly. "I know that's a pipe dream, but at least the North seems to know something of what's going on. But I want to go personally to aid what I can to aid such an effort."

"White walkers? What are they?" Garlan asked.

"Your education has been sorely neglected if you don't know any of the old tales about those fell monsters! But allow me to enlighten you student…" The old man said leaning forward his eyes flashing angrily at this sign that the old knowledge had begun to be forgotten even at the highest levels of nobility. My fellows have done their to shop far too well it seems. Damn them and their anti-magic bias, and damn the lords for their eagerness to forget the old tales!

The tale of the Age of Heroes and the place in it of the White Walkers took some time. When it was over Garlan looked the man thoughtfully. "Are you certain that they are appearing?"

"The Glass candles being lit show that their powers are growing. How they will attack is the question I cannot answer. The Wall was built to keep them out, but is its magic still in operation? Or has the neglect of Westeros towards the Night Watch had some effect there? Was the northern reinforcement enough time to offset that? Questions I don't know the answer to. Nevertheless, I mean to go north, and do what I can."

Garlan nodded, frowning thoughtfully. He wasn't disbelieving the man, rather the contrary. He had seen too many examples of magic himself to doubt that such creatures existed. No, what was causing him to frown was the fact that there were literally thousands of graves scattered throughout Westeros from this war. He and his army had burned the Ironborn under Victarion simply because it was faster than digging them all graves, but it looked as if that might have been an excellent idea anyway. "How far from the Wall can their magic reach?"

"Historically speaking it can't reach over the Wall at all. But something spooked the Northerners enoughfor them to reinforce the wall with a large force of their available men. Perhaps the White Walkers have figured out a way through the magics of the Wall, or perhaps even around somehow. Human dupes mayhap." The older man shrugged.

After a moment Garlan nodded decisively. "Stay with my fleet until we reclaim the Shield Islands good Archmaester. Then, we will send words to Highgarden. I received a message from my sister saying that a second force had been sent under Bryce of House Caron to clear the Mander of Ironborn Raiders. If that is indeed the case, we will sail north immediately. The entire army. If you're right about these White Walkers, then it is the duty of every noble and knight to meet them in the North, less we meet them in our own lands."

Marwyn stared at Garlan searchingly for a moment, then nodded. Garlan nodded to then stood up, cracking his knuckles. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go break the noses of two cowards who think they are knights."

OOOOOOO

Myrcella and Daenerys woke up very differently. Myrcella was a morning person, who woke up the moment the sun broke the horizon, and was in full possession of her mental faculties within a few seconds of doing so. But even on the march Daenerys was not a morning person. She had to get a good run-up before getting out of bed most days. Unless of course one of her dragons breathed on her, their morning breath would wake the dead.

The younger woman knew that, and since joining their relationship had taken to waking up met Daenerys in fun ways for the both of them. She did so again this morning, kissing along the other woman's jawline before nuzzling into her neck, then moving up to nibble on her ear whispering. 'Wake-up Daenerys it's time to get up…" In a voice as if she was talking to a little girl.

"Graaah…that voice and those actions just do not go together." Daenerys muttered pushing her away with a groan.

"I know!" Myrcella said with a laugh, pulling off the bed sheets of their small camp bed before pulling her feet around and getting up, wincing only a little now as she did so. Her side still ached from the wound she had taken in dairy, but it was a dull thing, going away slowly with time. "I'll get us some tea shall I?" Alayaya was even worse than Daenerys, utterly useless in the mornings though she had often remarked that was because of her former profession rather than personal preference. So Myrcella had to get the two royals their morning tea and food.

While Daenerys merely groaned in response Myrcella made her way towards the tent flap opening it only to find her way blocked by a large mound of fur. She smiled happily, rubbing her hands into the fur feeling it rumble underneath her touch. "Hello Fenris, I'm glad you and Ranma are back."

She heard the direwolf huff happily and the thump of his tail but she couldn't see it with the bulk of his body in the way of the tent flap. Fenris had finally stopped growing, but he was now larger than a plow horse at his shoulders, and even laying down as he was now he was an extremely large creature. It was only when he moved that anyone realized he still retained all of the body control and speed of his breed.

"We're happy to be back." Said a voice, and she looked up towards the top of the tent flap to see Ranma poking his head over Fenris' side. He leaned in quickly, his hand appearing beside his head and moving forward to gently cup the back of Myrcella's head bringing it up to kiss.

This was not a peck on the lips, but a full-blown kiss. Myrcella moaned happily, opening her mouth letting their tongues meet and writhe around one another for a moment. She pressed her body up against Fenris, eagerly arching her neck so as to give Ranma better access to her lips.

This went on for several moments, until Ranma reluctantly pulled away as he heard someone moving around behind him. "I love you Merry." He said in a soft voice.

Myrcella backed away, sighing happily while Ranma pulled himself over Fenris' back and into the tent while Fenris huffed happily, amused by the human's antics. "I love you, Ranma." she said moving over to the bed where Daenerys had opened one eye, smiling happily at the scene, then even more happily when Ranma moved towards the bed and did the same with her, including the murmured 'I love you'.

Moving over to her two lovers Myrcella gave them both kisses before leaving them there, knowing that she couldn't remain in the tent for long while the two of them had their reunion from the few days Ranma had been gone from the army without causing talk. With a sigh she left the tent, Fenris now moving out of the way and escorting her through the camp to the cook fires.

She smiled happily and waved at the greetings she got from many of the soldiers and lords around her, before taking her place in the line right behind Tristan. "Lord Ryger? Oh…." Her smile turned to a frown as she realized what the other man's presence might mean. "Something went wrong I take it?"

Tristan smiled grimly down at the beautiful young woman who seemed so strangely at home among these soldiers and men of war and with the giant direwolf beside her. He had actually at one point thought about courting her, but that was before his uncle died leaving him Lord of their family, and before she had taken such a horrendous wound thanks to Lord Darry's betrayal. He needed a wife to take his name now who could bear him a child, and Myrcella could not, nor could he marry her and take the Baratheon name at this point, since a barren woman could not carry on even her own family's name.

"You might say that Lady Myrcella," he said bowing over hand and kissing it in as courtly manner as he could. Then he stood up, his face going grim. "Stannis prepared a double trap for us. Ranma sprang the first and we all assumed that was the only one. It was only thanks to Fenris and Ranma that we were able to get out at all, but there were too many of them and we had to retreat."

He sighed sadly. "We tried to convince Lord Butterwell to retreat with us with his men, but he refused. I'm afraid that he and his household are dead by now. Stannis tried to use the Shadow Warriors as the first trap, and no doubt had more in reserve."

"May the Mother receive them as her own." Merry replied, shaking her head sadly. "I left Daenerys and Ranma to have a moment together, but I'm afraid that news will probably have ruined it for them."

"No doubt." The older man said with a shrug before handing Myrcella a cup of tea and a plate of camp bread, with a hunk of cheese. He smiled grimly at the cheese shaking his head. "That might be the last Butterwell cheese we see for a while."

By the time Myrcella got back to the tent, she found that Ranma and Daenerys had indeed halted their reunion quickly. Ranma was shaking her head as she entered the tent, saying. "He played us, any either of those two tricks could've worked, and both taken together would have smashed a far larger unit than the one I took down to try to relieve Butterwell. And if I hadn't been there, or at least if Fenris hadn't been there, Stannis' victory would've been complete. We would've lost every man there."

"As it is, we got mauled, and Stannis has a victory over us to his name which will no doubt bolster his troop's morale after the hammering they've been taking from Tytos. Tytos and Meera have performed magnificently destroying Stannis's foraging parties and scouts, but any morale benefit was probably lost with Butterwell, and after that Castle falls I don't doubt its stores will replenish Stannis' own."

"Is the overall plan still workable?" Myrcella asked as she sat down beside Daenerys. The two with girls exchanged a hand squeeze, before looking at Ranma, who had grabbed up some of the camp bread, biting into it hungrily.

"Yes it is, though it might be tighter than I was afraid it might. I think that Stannis' armies will start to lose the speed it had been using soon though. I bet that he had to use many of his spare horses to get that ambush force into position, and driven them into the ground. But he's still cut off too much of the angle on us for me to be really happy."

Daenerys frowned. "A messenger from Daryn came in this morning. My brother has landed, after a battle with the royal navy. He didn't know what the losses were on either side, but he said that he expected my brother to start marching in a day or two."

"We'll speed up then, put more distance between us and Stannis' army regardless of how much he's been able to cut our angle of advance." Ranma said with a grim nod. "It'll cut into the troops training time in the mornings to get more time on the march, but that can't be helped."

Daenerys nodded, though she and Myrcella exchanged worried glance. They knew that many of the Riverlands troops were still being worked up on 'Stark tactics', and that the Tully pike regiment was also still being worked up on most of the pike's tactics. Their individual training was excellent, and they tended to be able to work together as a unit, but their response to the horn commands left much to be desired.

Seeing their concerned expressions Ranma smiled taking their hands in his. "I know it's not the best solution, but unless we want Stannis to catch up to us while your brother is still out there unopposed, we'll need to do it. I also think we need to be aware that Stannis' forces are fully capable of moving separately if they need to be. He might be able to send one of them on an even sharper angle, say straight westward to block us from heading down to Duskendale. "I'm going to send Dacey ahead to take command of the scouts still with the army, just in case."

OOOOOOO

Having been injured early on in the part of the Riverlands campaign that the bards had begun to call the Baiting of the Lion, Daryn wanted to make it up to his king and friend by doing the best he could on his current mission. Having set out in advance of the rest of the army and heading towards Maidenpool rather than down towards Duskendale, first he wanted to take out any reeve or thief-taker of Lord Mooton. These were the only men on his land that were loyal enough to Mooton to ignore the general swell of support for Ranma and Daenerys among smallfolk.

He actually hadn't had to do much. Out in the country all the smallfolk new one another intimately, and they had a very good idea of who was telling tales or who was willing to. More often than not as soon as Daryn had moved into an area with his men they ran into more reeves and thief takers hanged here and there than his own men could have accounted for quickly.

Now knowing that there was no chance of anyone passing on tales Daryn sent men forward towards the town to watch the skies. He figured that seeing a dragon in the air above the city would tell him when to start expecting Viserys and his allies. One of his men was actually daring enough to hide right along the shoreline of the Bay of Crabs a league distance from the town, and watched the Dornish fleet arrive before reporting in.

Four days later that army began to march out of Maidenpool, and it found Daryn and his men ready.

At present, Daryn and a group of seven mountain clansmen were crouching hidden among large bushes by a small stream him about a day's journey out from Maidenpool. In the trees above other men waited with arrows drawn on taut bow strings. Across from the small stream a band of fifteen men came forward, their eyes alert as they watched all around them, though their visibility was hampered badly by the downpour occurring at present.

Noticing that most of the men didn't seem to have any autumn gear Daryn smirked evilly for a moment. The men wore light raincoats only if that, and their clothing didn't look all that warm. I bet their entire army is suffering, though I would assume they've commandeered as much clothing as possible from Maidenpool and wherever else they've stopped along their better this group doesn't seem to realize that there is danger about, they're wary, yes, but not as wary as they should be. Good.

Daryn had spent a single day observing the army, getting as close as he could, which was very close indeed, to note that it didn't have enough supplies for an army of some sixteen thousand. It was clear that they wanted to live off the land. Not a day out of Maidenpool, Daryn and his men began to see large parties of foragers who doubled as scouts for the army. After getting ahead of the army, this present battle was going to be the first of a series of ambushes to pare back those numbers.

The Dornishmen moved forward, dropping out of their saddles and allowing their horses to drink their fill at the stream while they shared some food they had taken from a nearby homestead. The smallfolk of that homestead had been removed quickly by some of Daryn's other men. It would be their choice whether or not to come back immediately to their house, or head west further into the Riverlands and away from this army's line of advance.

Daryn waited until a few minutes after the last man had dropped out of his saddle, before making a bird call. "Preck, Preck!"

At this signal, the archers hidden above in the trees fired, felling five of the 15 men, though only two of them were dead. Water had fouled their bow strings somewhat, nor were the men actually well-trained archers in comparison to most in the Royal Army.

The foragers turned, shouting consternation as a few of them raised bows of their own, aiming up into the trees. But Daryn and the men with him charged leaping over the small stream getting in among them before the Dornish realized they were there. Daryn's sword took one man through the neck from behind, while he sent a kick into another man's side cracking ribs and sending him flying with a scream of pain to smash into to others.

Pulling out his sword quickly Daryn turned, engaging two other men who had pulled out long sabers. Lighter than his own longsword somewhat, and curved whereas his own was straight they still wielded them relatively well. But to Daryn, it was as if they were moving in slow motion. He easily batted them both aside, flicking his own blade out once, twice, thrice putting both of them down their wrists and throats slit. The one with his wrists slit only looked up for a second before a pile-driving kick caught him in the face, throwing him backward with his neck broken.

Next to Daryn another man he turned fearfully, trying to jump up into the saddle. But the horse shied away rearing and skittish at the smell of blood and the screams of men. An instant later Daryn's sword took the man in the back, punching through his light chain mail, which was of really shoddy quality frankly, before finding his heart or lung. The body collapsed sideways into the river, it's red blood staining the water quickly.

Daryn looked around grimly satisfied. Every one of the foragers was dead, and seven of their horses had been corralled before they raced off in fear at the sudden combat. "Thomas, take the horses back to Goodman Burke and his family, they might need the animals to speed them on their journey west."

"We could use those animals too ya know," said one of his other lieutenants pushing at his lord's arm playfully.

"True." Daryn said with a nod. "But those aren't going to be the only horses we take from our enemies. Let's away quickly ourselves however, we're not that far away from the main army."

Over the next few days not every ambush Daryn and his men set up worked as well as that one, but most of them worked well enough. They accounted for somewhere around four-hundred Dornish, losing only fourteen of their own.

And any attempts to forage directly in front of or to the angle of the army's advance failed. Daryn had begun to empty the smallfolk villages and hamlets of people, along with every farmstead they could find, before Viserys and his army had left Maidenpool. That wasn't to say that the army wasn't able to find any food, but they certainly didn't find anything easily.

Several days after they had begun, Daryn was sitting on his horse hidden in a small copse of trees between two low hills, several days march away from the army which was marching down toward Duskendale. To Daryn's surprise, the Dornish army had turned in that direction almost immediately. Apparently someone in that army was still getting news on the movement of Ranma's army. That was good news to Daryn, it meant that setting Viserys and Stannis against one another would be all the easier.

Daryn wasn't thinking about that at the moment however, what he was thinking about was that one of the Dornish Houses had taken over foraging for the army, and its Lord was leading a foraging party in this direction right at that moment. Taking them out would put a hole in Viserys' command structure, if only for a little while.

It was raining again. It had rained or at least spritzed a little practically every day, though it was rarely overcast save when the rain was really coming down hard. At the moment, it wasn't raining hard enough to matter to visibility. A small stream however had begun to build on the equally small strip of land between the copse and the small hump of land on the other side of it, it's starting point out of sight from where Daryn was hiding.

As Daryn was staring at the moving water of the stream he began to hear the noise of horses cantering in the distance. Their hoofs made indistinct noises in the wet terrain, but he could still hear them well enough.

He nodded at the men on either side of him, all men of House Hornwood while at the same time readying his longsword. A few of them were even armed with lances, though obviously he didn't have any heavy cavalry with him. Those lances rather than being full metal affairs like those used in tourneys (or by certain rich Reach knights in war) were simply long spears lacking even metal points. Still with the force of a charge behind them, the fire-hardened points would break through chain mail easily enough, especially the cheap stuff that most of the Dornish forces seemed to favor.

He continued to watch from his hiding place in the copse of trees as riders crested the small hill. An instant later they began to make their way down towards the copse aiming for the small hamlet that had until yesterday made their homes among the trees here. They were apple trees, and more than one of his men had taken a few of the ripe fruit for themselves.

The moment those riders, around forty men all told, began to cross the stream, archers hidden among the trees and on the rooftops of the individual houses in the copse of trees fired. Several men went down, but the others spurred their horses on, charging forward.

Daryn yelled out. "Righteous in Wrath!" then spurred his horse forward, his sword raised and pointing forward.

The men coming towards the small hamlet were caught in the muddy area around the small stream their horses unable to move as quickly as his own for a moment, so their charge wasn't as powerful. Several men were smashed from their saddles, others pierced by the makeshift lances of Daryn's men. Daryn's own sword took one man in the shoulder slicing through his leather armor, while portion of his mind wondered why the hell people continued to think that leather was any defense in anything but bow range.

His next attack took another man on the shield, almost slicing through the shield and into the man's arm. But Daryn's blade was stuck in the shield for a moment, allowing the man to bring his saber around. Daryn ducked, punching out with his free hand catching the man in one of his legs shattering his kneecap. "GAHHhh!"

Pulling his sword out of the man's shield Daryn moved on leaving the crippled man behind to be finished off by one of the others. One man wearing colors of a house that Daryn had yet to see in this campaign, some kind of spotted cat holding an axe on a blue and white background, caught his horse with a lance from the side. Daryn leapt out of the saddle rolling as he hit the ground only to throw himself desperately to one side as one of the other Dornish tried to ride him down.

Getting his feet under him for a moment, Daryn stabbed his sword up, catching that horse in the side and ripping out it's guts before rolling away from another rider who once more attempted to ride him down. A brief glance around him however told Daryn the battle was going quickly against the Dornish, as more and more in of his men charged out of the small apple grove. Daryn had devoted over a hundred men to this ambush, not knowing how large a force the lord of whatever house had a cat on it would have with him.

Hacking and slashing at the horsemen around him, Daryn was able to move through the melee, though he did more dodging then attacking for a few moments, surrounded as he was by enemies. Even so Daryn was able to slice one man's leg off. Grabbing the man's sword arm right behind his wrist Daryn pulled him out of the saddle easily. He was just about to hop into the empty saddle when he heard a distant roar from the sky above him. It sounded like thunder, but not quite, more animal-like, a sound Daryn had heard close-up a few times in the past few months, one that filled him with dread now.

Pushing up his visor Daryn quickly looked up only for his eyes to widen in fear at the sight of a large black dragon coming down out of the sky. There was only one reason it would be coming out of the sky like this. Looking around wildly he dived into the small stream, which was more mud than water at this point but it was cool at least. "Down! Get down! Dragon!" After shouting that, Daryn quickly pulled his visor down again, took a deep breath, and buried his head in the mud and water as much as he could.

More than half of his men obeyed with alacrity, having gotten into the habit of obeying orders quickly. A few of them were cut down by the Dornish, but a few were actually were able to dive into the same stream near to where Daryn had. That was the only thing that saved them from instant immolation.

High above them Viserys shouted something that Daryn couldn't make out, and an instant later a torrent of fire came down from the dragon. It was wildly unaimed, torching not just the battlefield, but portions of the apple grove, more than one of the houses inside it, and several feet around where the actual combat had occurred. Screams rose in an unholy cacophony, only to be silenced as the individuals screaming died swiftly from the pain of their burns.

Thankfully the fire went out just as quickly at came, the dragon roaring back into the sky. Behind it Daryn pushed himself of the flash-fried mud, which was thankfully already wetting itself again thanks to the small stream and the rain.

"Old Gods damnit, that was close…"Daryn's back felt like it had been scalded even through his chain mail, and the wet chain mail was clinking with an almost angry sound having been warmed by the sudden heat of the dragon's fire. Steam was rising all around him, making it almost impossible to see, but Daryn still had a job to do. "G, Get me a headcount! Anyone still alive, shout out!"

Over seventy Hornwood men had been set on fire, immolating where they had stood and fought just a second before. Horses too had been set alight, screaming in equine agony with the survivors bolting in pure terror of the sudden conflagration. All of his own men's horses were dead or gone, the Dornish as well, and not just their beasts. The Dornishmen had not obeyed his shouted order, and paid for it, every one of them dying.

Nearby Thomas pulled himself out of the water looking at his Lord. "The, that fucking bastard! He just killed his own men to get at us!"

"He would've killed all of us if I hadn't heard him coming." Daryn pulled his helmet off wiping away the sweat that had formed on his four head. "I'm getting the impression that Viserys doesn't really care at all who else he kills so long as he gets some of us. Daenerys was right about him."

All around him men began to tend to their burned fellows, those that had survived that haven't made it into the pool entirely. Six of them would have to be put out of their misery. They hadn't been able to get enough of their body into watery mud and been cooked in their chain mail despite not having been hit full on by the dragon's attack.

"Do you think that's going to be a new tactic? That Viserys will ride out and attack our men at the merest hint of anything?"

Daryn nodded grimly, staring around at the steaming, burning bodies, their fires being slowly put out by the ongoing rain. "Pull the men back, we've already succeeded in emptying most of the lands within a few days march of their army, we'll spread out backwards from that and continue. No direct clashes anymore above small parties of four to ten. Let's make certain if he does hit us again, he won't be able to do as much damage as he did today. I'll want runners to head out to the rest of our scattered forces as soon as possible to that effect."

The next few days were very nervous for Daryn and his men. Even though they had pulled back and reverted almost entirely to helping the smallfolk get out of the way of the Dornish army, they were still nervous that Viserys would begin to range further away from his army with his dragon. Thankfully he didn't seem inclined to do so, though why that was the case none of them knew.

The Dornish also began to send out larger parties, all of them horse archers rather than light infantry or light cavalry. The horse archers were a unique threat to Daryn and his men. They moved faster than most foragers could, and indeed faster than Daryn and his own men could in short spurts. While he still had horses enough to put one under every man he had, he had lost his trained light cavalry force almost entirely, so did not retain anyone who was used to actually fighting in the saddle. And while the few trained archers Daryn had with him had a range advantage, they weren't as mobile as the horse archers, who could fire on the move closing the range quickly before his own men could escape on foot.

Daryn continued to set up small skirmishes here and there, bleeding any foraging party or scout group he could while always keeping to the front of the army until they were well away from Maidenpool and the somewhat populated area around it. Soon they were deep into the far less populated zone between the Crownlands and the Riverlands, moving along the borders of the territory known as Crackclaw Point.

About two weeks after Viserys' army landed, Daryn sent Thomas ahead down the road, assuming that by this point the rest of the army was somewhere along it. "Tell Ranma that Viserys and his dragon are on the way. His army isn't quite blinded yet, but the bait is damn well set!"

OOOOOOO

Viserys was angry, no he was furious. The Northerners had obviously known they were coming, or possibly been intelligent enough to not place any trust in Lord Mooton's loyalty. Whatever the case, within a day of leaving Maidenpool his army had come under attack. Small attacks here and there, never anything major but their foraging and scouting have been curtailed badly.

That sharply curtailed their ability to scout ahead of the Army. This in turn forced Viserys and Balerion to do the scouting, which they did so easily enough. They had even spotted that one ambush, wiping the victors out before returning to the army.

It hadn't occurred to Viserys that his attack had actually wiped out more of his own men than the attackers, nor would he have cared if someone had pointed it out. A few of the Dornish lords had privately speculated on that however after riding out to the site of the battle a few days after, but did not share their thoughts.

Jorah had taken command of both scouting and foraging, using parties of infantry to forage while horse archers covered them in every direction. This allowed them to stop several ambushes, but it slowed the army's progress even further. Viserys wanted to be in position to assault his sister or Stannis whoever won the clash between them, and hated everything that was delaying him now.

Arianne tried to do her best to keep Viserys calm, often times forcing him to exert himself when the two of them were in bed together to such a degree that he didn't have enough energy to be angry. It worked too, though was beginning to make her feel tired of it all frankly. Is my family's vengeance and my own ambition really worth this, this hell that I'm putting myself through? Viserys lovemaking had not improved since their first few times together, and he had begun to show distressing levels of selfishness and some low-key sadistic tendencies in their sex life, which did not please Arianne at all. Nonetheless she knew she had come too far to back out now, and did what she could to retain control over Viserys in some manner.

"Are you sure that we should be marching down to Duskendale? I know that Petyr says that Stannis and Ranma will be fighting somewhere in the area of the road but he is isn't a strategist. Why would they be moving in that direction?"

"For Ranma Duskendale makes for an obvious target. I doubt he knows of King's Landing, so he could simply be thinking of moving down the shore of Blackwater Bay to King's Landing if need be. And Stannis of course is going after him. There's no doubt Duskendale is the linchpin of his own logistics efforts, it has to be saved or protected." Viserys replied, his voice mellow as he leaned against the soft, silken pillow under his head, the sheets of bear fur covering his lower body.

"That does make sense, I had forgotten that would be important to Stannis." Arianne said with a nod. "My house is not used to thinking in terms of sea-based logistics like that." River traffic made much more sense to her, but even that wasn't exactly common in Dorne.

Viserys nodded agreeably, looking over her shoulder at a note she was reading, something Nymeria had given her that morning. "What is this?"

"I was just wondering about that myself my Lord. Apparently, the Iron Bank is not exactly happy with Petyr. According to this, the factors from Essos haven't been able to send us any solid information, or at least such hasn't been sent forward to the collection points like Maidenpool, but Nymeria says that the hatred is not unjustified. This is a suggestion from her, one she thought of several days ago but only now decided to share with me."

Viserys read it, then smiled thinly his eyes flickering with fell light for a moment. "Interesting. I have to say that Petyr has not exactly proven from much of an ally just yet. His spy network isn't better than your family, and bringing only around six thousand troops, more than half of which are nearly untrained levy forces was not anywhere near the amount of aid I was expecting him to be able to bring to our cause."

"And all of those lords my king strike me as more practical than loyal." Arianne mused. Viserys looked at her one eyebrow raised and she laughed. "They will be loyal to you now my lord, because Petyr has lost everything but their loyalty in terms of a powerbase. Whereas you have both the rest of the army, and your claim to the throne. Petyr might have delivered those men, might have negotiated their joining army, but they are ours now."

"And Petyr thus becomes expendable." Viserys said with a nod. "A lovely thought. Especially if doing so could garner any thanks from the Iron Bank. And agreeing to pay the debt the damned Usurper and his whore of a queen accrued with them, even if all of the proof of such on our side is now gone, would possibly bring them to our side entirely. Most devious my love." Viserys said, leaning down and kissing her pulling her back down among the covers of their large camp bed.

Outside a servant that Petyr had suborned not through money but blackmail within a few days of coming aboard Viserys' ship scurried off to find him. Petyr heard the man out wordlessly, then sent a messenger to the next tent over, summoning his bodyguards and servants. Once all still present with the army were gathered he said bluntly. "Start talking to the men of the army, spread money around if you have to. I want to know everything about the army's camp, about who is on watch, about the watch rotation, and the lords in charge. We might need to look for an escape route in a hurry."

OOOOOOO

While the forces vying for the throne of Westeros were maneuvering towards one another, far in the North a small boat was seen floating on the waves of the Bay of Seals by a family of fishermen plying their trade. "Look at that father." The lookout said, motioning to his father. "Is that a rowboat? Who in their right mind would use a small craft like that all the way out here?"

"I don't know," replied the patriarch, frowning behind his unkempt grey-streaked beard. "But it might be someone in trouble. Jac, Kale, I'm gonna steer us in that direction, trim the sails to catch the wind from leeward. Let's see what's up."

The two young men did so, and within a few moments their fishing sloop was alongside the rowboat. It sides were covered in frost, and a single person was lying down inside of it, covered by what had to be the worst skinned seal anyone in the family had ever seen. Then as they could grew closer, they realized it actually wasn't a botched skinning job. Someone had simply killed the seal, then pulled it aboard the small raft somehow without capsizing it, and had used its blubbery mass to protect himself from the cold. A smart idea, but an incredibly crude one.

All three men winced at the smell gasping. "Is that man alive you think?" said the youngest, Jac.

His father shrugged and jumped aboard the ship, moving over towards the man. Seeing that his beard was short and not very well cared for and what he could see of his face looked young as well he asked, "You alive, youngster?"

He was actually not expecting the younger man to be alive, so jumped back in shock when the man set up, staring at him. "W-who are you?" he asked through heavily chapped and bleeding lips.

"I'm Crant, these're me sons, Jac and Kale, we're fisher folk from the shores of the Bay. We be beholden to House Karstark."

The man nodded, crawling out from under the corpse of the seal. When his upper body came clear, Jac and Kale gasped at the site of his shoulder. I was heavily bandaged, but the bandages were dark black with dried blood, with some red seeping through even now over the wound.

With his sons helping him Crant was able to get the younger man into the sloop, then began to pull away from the smaller rowboat as his wife came out of the deckhouse. Quickly she began to undo the bandages on the man's arm, hissing in shock as she pulled them away. "Jac, get me a double draft of wine, boil it, Then some water and boil that too!"

"What did you get into youngster?" said Crant, staring at the man.

The man looked down at his own shoulder for a moment, as if not really comprehending what happened to it though Jack had took one look at it and thought that he was lucky to still have a shoulder at all. The skin around the wound was just going bad and it was deep and had bled profusely.

After a moment the younger man shook his head licking incredibly cracked and frostbitten lips. "M, my name's Theon Greyjoy. Take me to Karhold. I need to speak to Torrhen Karstark. They, they are coming." With that Theon collapsed, falling into unconsciousness as Crant and Kale moved forward grabbing him before he could hit the deck.

OOOOOOO

Over the next few days Ranma's prediction about Stannis' speed proved true, the three units slowing down significantly. Many of their horses had been ridden nearly to death to set up the ambush around Butterwell. Even with a full third of the army no longer needing to forage for its food they were still slowed by that.

Within a few days at their new speed the Royal Army reached the road down to Duskendale, passing through House Buckwell's land in the Crownlands. Surprisingly that House didn't even bother sending out messengers to the army, simply pulling in what people it had and keeping their collective noses down while the army passed through.

This road wasn't quite as good a road as the royal roads, but it was far better than most in Westeros. Trade normally flowed from one port down to the other, luxury goods for the most part as well as out into the countryside. Though those roads weren't nearly as good as the main one. But of course there was no trade on it now. Merchants were even more intelligent than most smallfolk in knowing when to bunker down or hide.

The army began to march along it, now keeping their speed up without having to take away from their training times in the morning. To the army's delight they also began to see some resupply from the local smallfolk. Villages along the road would empty themselves at Ranma's urging, the inhabitants heading east away for now. But they would leave quite a lot of food behind for the army, a sign that the septons, not to mention their own and Merry's activity, had truly brought the smallfolk onto Ranma and Daenerys' side.

Ranma felt they would be able to continue down towards Duskendale for another week or so, before they would have to start making plans to turn back, and then dodge Viserys and Stannis somehow. But still wary of further surprises from Stannis, he had sent Dacey forward like he said he would to command the scouts left with the main army. Ranma had sent Tytos back to continue the campaign of skirmishes to further hamper Stannis' army.

About another week's or training and marching passed before Dacey came back with a report of an army coming up the road. And it was definitely not one of Stannis' attempting to cut them off from Duskendale without Tytos and his scouts having reported its movement.

"They've got what?!" Daenerys asked incredulously.

"I've never seen them in real life before, nor in books." Dacey said with a shrug from where she stood in front of Ranma and the others. "But I'd say they're elephants. It's pretty hard to confuse those massive beasts with anything else."

To one side Fenris perked up. He had seen a picture of an elephant in a book down in King's Landing that Ranma had read with Tommen at one point. They looked rather tasty, and perhaps large enough that one of them would feed even a pack of direwolves.

"Did you see their banners?" Daenerys asked intently. Elephants meant someone had come over from Essos, but who, and why? Could this be some scheme of the Iron Bank? Could they have thrown their lot in with Stannis and supplied him with another Army?

Dacey shook her head. "They've got a lot of scouts, and they all look like mercenaries to me, though of few of them are far more uniform than most mercenaries. But I did see one other thing, just as I was preparing to report back…" She said slowly looking at Daenerys intently, breathed in and then decided to just say it bluntly. "I saw a dragon flying above their army. I couldn't make out its color though."

Daenerys gasped before sharing a shocked look with Ranma. "Could Viserys have gotten around the Royal Navy somehow and gone down to Duskendale?"

"I wouldn't have credited it." Jason said with a frown, "but mayhap."

Ranma sighed. "I'll have to head forward with you Dacey. Fenris and I can sneak in when others wouldn't be able to." Fenris might not have Ghost's ability to, well, ghost around but he was still far better at moving through even scrub brush than any man could be. "Halt the army here for now, we'll be back by tomorrow morning."

The others dispersed to their various commands, while Ranma looked at Daenerys inquisitively. "You have a guess of who this could be?"

"The Iron Bank is the only force in Essos that has any interest in sticking their noses into the quagmire that is Westeros at the moment. If they threw in their lot with Stannis they could raise a mercenary army for him. The dragon though, maybe they didn't throw their lot in with Stannis, but found some other puppet king they could prop up, some dragonseed or other."

"Dragonseed?" Merry asked from where she had just gotten off Fenris' back. Already Eric was bringing up the horse she and Daenerys had shared since leaving Winterfell. Daenerys of course was spending most of her time up in the sky with her two dragons, so was only ever in the saddle for a bare hour or so every day.

"A word meaning a Targaryen by-blow, usually found on Dragonstone or Driftmark. I suppose a few of them could have survived…"

Ranma nodded grimly, understanding why this could be a problem. A mercenary army was poison to any land it passed through because most of its men would not be at all interested in ruling the land afterwards, simply plundering it now, and scum of the earth besides. And it also fucks up my plans something fierce. Dodging two army's is one thing, dodging three? "We'll figure out what this is then figure out a way to deal with them." he said aloud, his face showing stark resolve for a moment.

After kissing both girls on the cheek Ranma and Fenris moved ahead, while behind them the army halted its march, and began to fall out to make camp.

It took Ranma and Fenris a bare few hours to cross the distance to the farthest scout group towards Duskendale. Brynden Blackwood was the oldest son of Tytos, and his equal in terms of leaving small skirmishes and ambushes, though he had remained with the army when Meera and Tytos had been sent south. Brynden had found a small cave hidden in a small copse of trees about a half days ride away from the road and was using it as his base for now as he keep a look out on the approaching army.

He showed Ranma up to a nearby knoll, were Ranma pulled out his treasured spyglass, watching as the army coming from Duskendale came closer. "Do you have anything new to report?"

"Lady Dacey knew most of it when she left us Ranma." Brynden replied, showing none of the awe he was feeling at how quickly Ranma had crossed that same distance. Dacey had crossed it quickly, taking two thirds of a day or so to meet back up with the army, but even in comparison to that Ranma and Fenris were incredibly quick. "We've spotted a few banners among the outriders, I think we've spotted two, maybe three mercenary companies at least. And you're not going to like one of them my Lord."

"I don't like anything about this situation Brynden." Ranma smiled grimly still staring through the spyglass at the dust in the distance. "What is it?"

"One of them is the Golden Company my Lord." Brynden replied quietly.

Ranma turned to look at the man but seeing his seriousness he simply nodded. At least 10,000 men all of them trained and equipped better than most Lords in Westeros could field. Not as good as his own army, and Ranma would put his pike against their spear phalanx any day of the week, but still a very big threat. "All right, that tells me this army's dangerous, let's see what else we can figure out."

The two men remained silent, waiting. The sun was nearly falling, and rain had begun to patter down yet again when finally the front of the main force came into view. Ranma saw the elephants that had so astonished Dacey, while Fenris seemed to sit up abruptly, his nose turning in that same direction. "Don't tell me you can smell them from here?"

Fenris snored a lot a wolfish chuckle, nodding his head in the human manner as he sent an image. Big fat, smelly. A direwolf's sense of smell was better than even a normal wolf's, and a normal wolf's was among the best nature had ever devised. Fenris could find a single scent on the wind for leagues, and they were upwind of the army.

Ranma nodded pulling out of their connection with a shake of his head. "Interesting. I wonder how those elephants would react to my friend here…" He said scratching Fenris behind the ears grinning as wolfishly officially as his bonded for a moment while he looked over at Brynden.

Brynden winced, then smiled in reply.

A moment later, neither of them had had much interest in smiling. The army down there wasn't as large as their own, possibly around 14,000 or so, and there was not a single Westeros banner among them. What there was however, flying high over the entire army, was the banner of House Targaryen. "My lovely, so intelligent wife was right." Ranma said grimly. "It would appear as if the Iron Bank has found a patsy, or something else is going on here. We'll wait for tonight, then I'll sneak in, see if I can hear some of the talk among their army…"

OOOOOOO

For various reasons the other three armies supply situations were not nearly as good as Ranma's which could have a cumulative effect on the road. Stannis faced Meera and Tytos' depredations on his foraging parties. Viserys faced Daryn's. But the army with the worse supply situation was Aegon's. Finding Duskendale not having much in the way of supply had forced him to supply his army off the land.

At first Aegon hadn't thought much of it, thinking the smallfolk would be happy to give his army food, happy to see the return of the Targaryen Dynasty. This concept was so off-target as to have no connection to reality whatsoever. Not that Aegon understood that. He simply put it down to this area of the Crownlands being uncertain of which Targaryen to follow.

Unlike the other army's however, Aegon was getting decent reports from his scouts, who had ranged ahead of the main army quite a ways, and had lost many of their number thanks to their opponents, but were still completing their missions. They had briefly seen the main bulk of the Northern/Riverlands army retreating back up towards Maidenpool at one point. Though since then they had not met with any great success, the Northern scouts keeping them at bay whatever they tried. Yet Varys network was still intact, and had reported that Stannis was in the area as well, marching to engage the Stargaryen force.

"Excellent!" Aegon said smacking his hands together for all the world like a child who'd just heard he was getting an extra present for his name day. "Varys, didn't you say that some of the Houses under Stannis will side with us the moment they see our banner? With that in mind, we might be able to smash both of these armies. After such a victory, and with my aunt either convinced to side with me or captured, Viserys will have to give over as well, wherever he is. And of course, his Dornish forces are not nearly as loyal as he believes."

"Be careful Young King." said Varys warningly. "Overconfidence has gotten many a ruler slain, and not just on the battlefield. Stannis and Ranma Stark have proven themselves to be dangerous generals, you would do well to not underestimate them."

"You worry too much eunuch." Said Old Griff, smiling thinly. "Stannis has only beaten his younger brother Renly in this war. That's no great feat, and before that, he was only in charge of naval battles or sieges. Naval battles are one thing, land battles are another and there is no easier a battle to plan for than a siege, either defending or attacking. As for young Stark, what wars did the Old Lion fight? He came late and never truly fought an actual enemy army in the war of the Usurper. He wasn't in charge of the overall strategy against the Ironborn, and before that Tywin simply smashed one or two houses one after another in punitive campaigns, not campaigns against an equal opponent."

Harry Strickland, captain general of the Golden Company exchanged glances with his commanders, particularly Tristan Rivers. They all saw this statement as yet another sign that their old comrade-in-arms had not retained his mental faculty over the years. Yes, sometimes sieges were ridiculously simple to plan for, but only a fool would ignore Stannis' ability as a general. And while Tywin's reputation had been based more in the realm of politics and backstabbing, from what Varys had passed on, which was quite a lot, the campaign that Ranma Stark had led against him had been a thing of beauty.

They were not nearly as confident. Indeed, the fact that three of the army's vying for the throne of Westeros had come together in this area of the continent was a sign that someone, either Stannis or Ranma had set it up in that manner. That was worrisome, as was the fact their scouts didn't seem to be able to get through the Northern and Riverlands scouts to what that army might be doing or what could be past it.

After Griff and Aegon left later that evening the remaining men, including Varys, continued the discussion.

"We've come too far back to back out now," said Gorys Edoryen, the paymaster of the Company. He was a cadaverous looking Volantene man with a pointed black beard and blood-red hair, who habitually wore a leopard skin draped across one shoulder. "We can't go back on our contract, not with the young fool, or the ones backing him. There's our reputation to consider, and the fact we don't have enough supplies to make it back to Essos even if we tried. Maybe if we left the elephants behind…"

"No." Harry said sharply, though all the men there knew it was more because he didn't want to leave the elephants behind than any care for the Golden Company's reputation. Strickland was not the most martial of men, though he was a good organizer. "You're right, and I'll hear no talk of us turning back. We came to win a throne, and that's what we'll do."

"I'm worried that we're only seeing what the Northerners want us to see." Lysono Maar said worriedly. He was the company spymaster, a feminine-looking fellow with lilac colored eyes and gold-white hair down to his shoulders. Yet he had been almost sidelined since arriving in Westeros, having no connections here. Then his place was further usurped by Varys.

Interacting with their scouts was the only job left to him now. "We've been losing two or three men for every one of theirs. Stranger's Hells, we've lost more men since meeting with their scouts than we did in taking Sharp Point or Stonedance. Then getting that one glimpse of their army, it's almost like they're baiting us."

Tristan shrugged. "We have to move forward quickly then, try to take some of the initiative away from them, get after the main army before they can prepare whatever surprise they are trying to do."

"Or retreat entirely back to Duskendale, get on our ships and head elsewhere, fight them on our terms after gathering more Westerosi support. I'm not happy about relying on the Reach houses turning for us mid-battle." Gorys countered.

Harry shook his head, looking over at Varys. "The Royal Navy, could it beat us back to Duskendale from wherever it is now?"

"They could certainly be back in Blackwater Bay before we reach the city." Varys replied. "My agent's last reported them near Gulltown, and Seaworth is an able seaman."

Duskendale had fallen easily enough to them, Lord Rykker lacking any kind of spine to face their army, especially since most of his defenses had been destroyed recently in the raid ordered by Viserys on the portion of the Royal Navy that had been left there in dock. Those docks themselves had been heavily damaged, and it had a been a very nervous week while the army disembarked, it's progress slowed badly by the damage.

"From the Gullet the fleet could possibly catch us in the port. I might not be a military man, but I believe that being attacked while your army is still being loaded onto your transports would not be a good thing, yes?"

"True enough." said Harry. "I'm not happy with how arrogant Aegon and Griff are, but when they say that our quality of troops can overwhelm our enemies they are starting a simple truth. The Reach cavalry against our spear phalanx? Or even northern pikes against them? They may get in a few kills, but eventually our discipline and the tightness of our formations will win out."

Varys was not a general, not a fighting man at all. He had no concept of how dangerous the Northern pike regiments were, and had downplayed them and their importance even more so than his agents who equally were not soldiers in the main. The Battle of the Ruby Ford had been put down to more to the Northerners ability to battle the Westerlanders in a smaller area, so that Tywin could not bring his full numbers to bare rather than the devastating striking power of the pikes.

"True enough." Said Tristan Rivers, smiling thinly. He was a bastard from the Riverlands, and was eager to head home the conqueror. "And after this war, we'll all be wealthy lords with our own lands!"

Marq Mandrake, a Westerosi native who had fallen into slavery once and then joined the Golden Company spoke up now. "You're all forgetting something: Stannis and the R'hllor whore he has somehow tamed."

Harry and the others all flinched at that reminder, and Marq went on grimly. "I'm worried more about the fact that we didn't know how effective this Red Witch's powers were before we took this contract. Shadow Warriors, burning the greatest city of Westeros with her powers? We don't have anything in our Company that can face such magic as that! And I'll tell you plain, I don't care a thing about our history of never breaking a contract, me and mine will run to fight another day rather than face such as that."

Varys smiled thinly. "Let me worry about the Red Witch Sers, trust me she won't be an issue."

Later that evening as he sat at a small writing desk Varys looked up sharply at a small noise, almost unseen at the edge of his hearing. Moving far faster than most would give him credit for Varys pulled out a small extremely sharp stiletto from a hidden fold of his garish clothing.

Turning slowly he stopped when a voice from far closer than the noise had indicated. "Valar Morghulis. Greetings from Illyrio, Master of Whispers. You and he have retained my sentences for one life. Do you know the name of the one whose death you have bought?"

Varys licked suddenly dry lips. "I, I wish for you to kill the woman named Melisandre, the follower of R'hllor that sits at Stannis' elbow."

For a moment the man in the shadows of the tent was silent. When he spoke again, the voice came from a far corner, well away from the first place the voice had indicated. "That is indeed the name given to me. Yet since coming to Westeros, I have heard more of her powers, things I did not know before. You and your friend either deceived us, or were deceived in turn. It matters not, but what does is the price. It has gone up, by three times the amount."

"Thr!" Varys gasped, unable to even get the word out for a moment. The initial price had been practically a king's ransom, beggaring every single bank account Varys had access to, and more than half Illyrio's estate in Pentos. Three times that amount…I can't promise that! That, that's something like 28 million gold dragons!

The number was so ludicrously large that calculating it actually snapped Varys out of his initial shock. Wait, the Faceless Men believe the contracts are a sacred bond with their Many-Faced-God. They would never haggle once a contract is made, even if the danger of the mission goes up. What is this?

After a moment he sat down again, staring straight ahead rather than continuing to futilely try to find the assassin in the shadows. "I see. I cannot promise that amount, and I believe you know that. What is it you actually want, that you would haggle with me now?"

A tense few moments of silence passed before the man replied. "Equivalent exchange. The Guild has sent me a mission, one passed on to me from within. I require information. Information on the whereabouts of one called Arya Stark…"

OOOOOOO

"Viserys' army is about a week behind us." Said Daryn as he leapt out of his horse to clasp forearms with Ranma. "We well and truly blinded them these past few days, and did what we could to make their army go hungry as well as possible."

He watched through grim eyes as Daenerys alighted off her current mount, Rhaegon, shaking his head angrily. "I lost over 220 men thanks to Viserys using his dragon against us. He burned an entire village of smallfolk houses and his own men to kill some of mine not two days back."

Daenerys winced. "I'm sorry you had to go through that Daryn, but my little ones and I will do what we can to make certain that those are the last of our men that died from dragonfire."

"I hope you're successful in that my lady, it is a horrible way to go." Daryn shivered for a moment, remembering his own close call with that particular death but reached forward to clasp hands with her in greeting as well.

Dacey nodded. "And the other Targaryen army is coming up from the south about a week away."

"Other Targaryen army? What have I missed?" Daryn asked, blinking.

"A lot." Ranma said with a shrugged. "But not enough to make my initial plan unworkable."

"Ranma…" Daenerys said gritting her teeth behind a faint smile "I think we're becoming a little overconfident here."

"No." Ranma said with a faint smile of his own, touching her cheek gently. "We're not. Oh, the initial plan isn't workable in terms of us sitting out the battle entirely. We don't have enough room to evade them all. But remember Dae, these armies aren't going to work together. They're going to be fighting each other just as much as us. And that will cause chaos."

"And chaos is where you thrive." She said smiling now. "Stannis doesn't, nor my brother!"

"Exactly." Ranma said with a nod. "Stannis might know this is coming, but he won't back out. He'd have to skirt wide down the road, then head down to Duskendale itself, and if an army just came from there there's no telling that that city will be able to feed his army. Tytos and Meera cost them too much in the way of supply for him to get anywhere else. He has to smash us, then move to Maidenpool to resupply there."

"Besides, Stannis is arrogant," Myrcella said from where she was sitting as usual on Fenris well on the march. "He doesn't think that anyone else is as strong, honorable, or smart as he is. He looked down even on Father for that, not just because he was resentful of being passed over for Lordship of Storm's End as was his right. He's also 'beaten' you once already Ranma, he'll think he has the measure of you now."

Ranma nodded at her, reaching out to ruffle his hair, but his eyes were grim. "I think it's we need to start preparing a new warm reception for all three of our enemies. Dacey, hand over command of the scouts to Brynden entirely and Daryn, you get back to your men. Don't try to block their scouts unless they are getting close, don't let them see our army or get around us."

He turned to Lucas Blackwood as Dacey nodded and Daryn went off, mumbling something about wanting to get some food before heading back out. "Lucas, get back out there and find your father. I want him here with the rest of the army soonest, but tell him to leave a third of his men out there under Meera. They are to get around Stannis' army, but stay utterly out of sight for now. I want them ready to attack the army from behind if they see an opening, but not until the army is fully engaged with us."

"I'm still hopeful that we can at least talk this pawn the Iron Bank has found into joining us. Our control of the Golden Tooth means that paying off the debt they believe the Iron Throne owes them won't be so arduous now. But that will depend on what role he is playing." Daenerys mused, leaning against Fenris and resting her head on Myrcella's leggings-clad thigh for a moment. "I could wish that I am not going to face a family member regardless, I have no desire to become a kinslayer."

"We all do what we must." Ranma said with sigh. "I would take that off you if I could, but given the fact I'll have to be trying to control the battle and match the Shadow Warriors and Melisandre, I don't know if I'll be able to."

The Wolfsworn around him nodded, understanding what technique Ranma and thought would be able to match a dragon in flight. The Lords around them however looked askance at his confidence. All save for Tristan, who had seen that maneuver Ranma had done to clear the area around him in the battle at Butterwell.

"So what's the plan?" Jason asked.

Ranma smiled. "You were wondering why I ordered so many shovels from Riverrun my Lord, now they're going to be put to use."

Over the next few days while the other armies continued to close with them the men of the Royal Army took turns resting, working on preparing fortifications, and training. Ranma, the Wolfsworn and even the lords and Daenerys took part in all of the work going on, lending their expertize, strength and simply more hands to the projects, and within a week the army, it's esprit-de-corps higher than ever, completed the fortifications Ranma wanted.

The fortifications was a triangular line of ditches set between three large nearly L-shaped forts made out of wood cut from a nearby copse of trees, which almost denuded the entire copse. They were very simple forts only about two stories tall, with a parapet and overhead roofs supported by four pillars. But they were solid affair without any kind of stairwell. The individuals manning them had to climb up their sides via ropes.

As archer platforms they worked very well and each fortification could hold at least 400 archers, facing in every direction. The sides of them and the top had also all been covered with mud, and thanks to the now near daily rain they might be able to survive a fireball either from the Red Witch or the dragons of the enemy.

Maybe. If the dragon came in on an angle the men inside them might not. Then again if it did, they might be able to fire back anyway. But the army seemingly had confidence in Daenerys and her 'little ones' to protect them from other airborne threats. The Red Witch was another matter entirely, but Ranma had proven to have his own powers before this, and morale was high despite the rumors about her.

The forts were connected by several prepared ditches of various sizes. More than a few of those on the side of the triangle facing where Stannis' army would be coming from were then covered over by wooden slats which were then covered with mud and still living grass. It almost looked like normal ground if you weren't looking closely, and Ranma figured that they had a two out of three chance of working.

Behind the ditches was an earthwork about waist high, with a step behind it. This was true on all sides, though the ditches were not as complete on them, and there were several places where there was no ditch or earthwork, but there the pikemen of House Manderly were assigned, a show of trust that made them all puff their chests out in pride.

After it was all finished Ranma allowed the army an entire day off, even opening the very small and closely guarded wine supply to let every man have a single cup at Daenerys' insistence,. The army, ecstatic by this act and proud of the work they had accomplished, cheered the royals loudly. The army truly felt now that they had a chance to win this war outright, regardless of the number of their enemies.

OOOOOOO

The next day, the other three armies of the pretenders to the throne had finally seen both the main Royal Army and one another. The reactions of the commanders among them to the other armies' presence were varied. Viserys was wrathful, furious that anyone else dared to use the banner of the Targaryens, while his cousin was furious at the fact that he had no idea that Viserys was even in the area, blaming Varys for this as well as his own scouts showing a temper that reminded all too many of them about the stories of Mad King Aerys.

Stannis however was amused and incredibly impressed. "He did it." He murmured shaking his head with a faint smile.

"Azor Ahai?" asked Melisandre looking at him quizzically.

"Oh, I knew that Ranma wanted my army and Viserys' to fight, but even so, he still tried to keep on and might well have done it, simply leaving the three of us to fight it out between us if not for the fact that my army stands directly between him and the Riverlands lands. He has Crackclaw Point behind him, and no one wants to take an army through that land, even if they get local support." Crackclaw Point was dominated by dales, bogs, craggy hills and pine barrens, a wilderness which no army could move through easily.

"Instead he decided to fight here, taking the time to throw up those fortifications. Very good, very good indeed. This will be of tough battle, but I think our numbers advantage and the fact that all of us are fighting one another will give us the victory."

OOOOOOO

The day was too far gone for any of the armies to launch full-scale attacks and strangely to Ranma's mind there were proprieties to be considered. "I can't believe we're doing this.' Ranma said to his wife. "You don't honestly think that diplomacy is going to do anything at this point do you? Stannis, this 'Aegon' and Viserys all want the Iron Throne, even if the symbol of your family's rule is gone, and we're just as determined to not let them take it."

Daenerys smiled at his honest confusion. "Yes I know you just want to get this over with, but there are pragmatic reasons behind this. I've spoken to Lord Ashford, and I think least a few of the Reach Lords following Stannis might rethink that allegiance given our stance towards Mace. And Mace at the very least will be upset by it. If a few of those Lords decide to pull their men out of the battle citing divided loyalties that could let us tip the numbers in our favor against him.

"As for my brother, I believe that his Dornish allies are nowhere near as securely in his camp as he likes to think, unless Arianne is pregnant." Daenerys scowled. "There is no way my brother could have convinced Doran to back open war if not for a blood tie like that. And, we need to find as much out about this dragonseed and the Golden Company's reason behind this invasion as we can."

Looking at his wife Ranma frowned a little. One of Dacey's men had gotten close enough to over hear some of the Golden Company's scouts. They spoke of someone going by the name of Aegon, and Ranma knew that had been the name of Rhaegar's son.

Dacey had shared that tidbit with both of them, but Daenerys refused to use the name in relation to the man. "You realize if he actually believes that shit, his claim to the Iron Throne is stronger than yours, right? The line of succession always goes to the son of the oldest son, rather than to a daughter or younger son of the father."

"He's not my nephew Ranma!" Daenerys growled, frowning with a hint of anger in her voice. "My nephew died thanks to the Gregor Clegane's butchery." She smiled suddenly looking at him. "Have I thanked you for killing that monster lately?"

"You did that often enough before we married, my love." Ranma replied, that smiling faintly and nodding over at Jason and the other Lords, who arrayed themselves behind the two royals. Along one side of the pavilion that Daenerys had insisted they put up outside bow range in full view of the other three armies the Wolfsworn present stood like a grim honor guard. Silas, the only Lord among them who had been to Essos said close by Ranma on his other side, ready to tell him what he could about the men from 'Aegon's' army.

Besides the pavilion itself, which was basically a giant tarp which had originally been used for the dragons pulled taut over their heads, there was very little in the way of comfort. The table and chairs were all camp tables and chairs, simple folding affairs. Ranma, Daenerys and most of their lords wore armor, over which furs were hung. Even their crowns, commissioned by Greatjon and Jason in Riverrun and given to Ranma and his wife recently as gifts, reflected this austerity.

Ranma's crown was made out of hammered steel to look like wolf fangs, with a single gold fang in the direct center. Between each fang etched into the hammered steel of the circlet itself were wavy lines signifying rivers. Daenerys's tiara was also steel, but it was burnished instead of hammered, it almost gave the steel a shine. Silver was worked into it, showing small dragons in flight in position over her ears.

Taken all at once the image the two conveyed was of austere majesty. There was no pomp and panoply here, simply authority which came from who they were, not the roles they had assumed.

"How likely is it that we will be able to persuade Mace and the Reach forces to back off as a whole, my lady?" said Rickard. He had never met Mace or any of the Reach Lords, so had no knowledge of them as individuals.

Daenerys hadn't met them of course, but she had studied them and had closely questioned Lord Ashford about them, as she had told Ranma. Ashford was standing in one corner of the pavilion, looking noticeably tense. "I'm afraid that there isn't much chance of that my Lord, a portion of them perhaps, but not Mace. He is too arrogant to take our news about Highgarden and the lord Paramountcy lying down."

"It will almost certainly goad him into foolish actions however. We will see…" Daenerys broke off as she felt her dragons, who were lying outside the pavilion, stirring. Looking at them she frowned, reaching through their mental connection for a moment. Seeing through their senses Daenerys scowled angrily leaping to her feet. "They dare!?"

Ranma looked at her surprise, then over to where Fenris was now staring up as well where he was lying at the back of the pavilion. Then he frowned as well, but before he could do anything Daenerys had moved forward, leaving the pavilion to stare up into the sky.

From the sky above two dragons could be seen circling one another warily. For a moment Daenerys thought that they might actually come to blows right away but it was not to be. Both dragons landed, hissing and snarling at one another then at Sunfyre and Rhaegon.

One of the newcomers was a massive black dragon, and Daenerys stared at it in shock, noticing Viserys on his back and realizing this was the dragon from the third egg her blood and the fire in Illyrio's manse had hatched. The other was a red and brown colored beast smaller than even Sunfyre, barely large enough to carry a rider, but seemed snappish. Not as ill-tempered as the larger black one, but still more wild than her own two.

Sunfyre, normally the best behaved of her little ones, reared back hissing angrily at both the largest beast and the smaller. Rhaegon too angrily reared his head up, snapping and flicking its tongue out at the black dragon. Flames started to appear at the back of Rhaegon's mouth, but Daenerys sent a mental command to him, and he closed his mouth with a cluck.

The two new dragons continued to hiss and roar as hers until she opened her mind in that strange manner that Ranma had taught her, not concentrating on her own two dragons, simply shouting "Stop!" at the top of her mental and physical voice.

The word hit like a hammer blow and both new dragons fell back, nearly upsetting their riders, who had yet to dismount. The two dragons stared at her, and she glared back, completely without fear.

"Still!" She ordered in Valerian and sharply gestured with her hands down. She noted with the portion of her mind that was not busy at the moment the amusing look of consternation on the faces of Viserys and this unknown dragonseed's at the dragons obeying her. As the dragons subsided, Daenerys stared at the two men in the eyes for a moment. "There will be no fighting here, not right now. This is a parlay occurring under a flag of truce, not some, some kind of dick beating contest!"

Yet it was taking all of her energy to keep these two new beasts from breaking her control. The smaller beast wasn't fighting her so much. It was angry at her commands yes but obeying Daenerys as a younger dragon would a far older one. Of course there was none of the love or affection that she had built up with Sunfyre at Rhaegon there, simply respect.

Yet somehow she could feel this dragon saw the connection between Daenerys and her two little one. There was a sense of wonder there, yet it also shied back, a very odd feeling.

But the black dragon, the black dragon was another matter entirely. It was insane, there is no other word for it. It's mind was snarling, angry, and mad its own head, it reveled in the struggle in pain, it wanted to unleash its fires all the time, to burn everything. By the gods old and new,what did Viserys do to you? This was beyond even her worst dreams, she could sense the taint of its madness, cloying in its brain, could see the scars on its flanks and necks, and bile rose in her mouth.

In her anger at the two dragons Daenerys hadn't even noticed the parties that had followed them on horseback, and now she turned to them. She stared at Arianne then at the woman with her, who was one of the better looking women Daenerys had ever seen, an incongruous thing to notice here.

The men of the Golden Company were also not what she expected, there was not one among them who she would peg as a Lord or noble at all, they looked like what they were, rich mercenaries wearing their worldly possessions on their bodies. They seemed barbarically impressive, but time spent in the North had shown her that austerity bred much tougher men than those who wallowed in wealth.

"Remove your beasts." She ordered the two dragonriders. "Your parties may remain here until you return."

"You have your dragons here sister, it's only fair I keep Balerion! I'm certainly not going to let you…"

"My little ones are trained," said Daenerys coldly, reaching out to rub Rhaegon's neck while the larger of her two was glaring angrily at the black beast, who continued to try to break her control. "Your Balerion isn't, it would attack the moment I turn my back. I will send my two back to our camp the moment you and yours are gone, that is the best you're going to get, brother dear."

Viserys scowled, but realized that was the case. He had underestimated the aggressiveness Balerion would feel towards other dragons. He liked it, he liked that aspect a lot. He was eager now for the battle to begin so that he could unleash Balerion's stronger fire and larger body on the smaller ones who had obviously been coddled by her sister. Let alone the one that was somehow being flown by a lowly dragonseed with delusions of grandeur. "We'll see how you and your 'little ones' do in battle later sister." He scowled pulling his dragon's head around. "I will return anon."

Balerion's wings flapped, smacking into Sunfyre and the other smaller dragon, both of whom hissed angrily but were stilled by the weight of Daenerys's mind on them.

With the larger thread dealt with Daenerys turned to the dragonseed. Still in the saddle, he puffed himself up importantly, smiling in what he possibly thought was a winsome manner. "Dear aunt, there is no need for this of hostility, as he can see my Calixares is…"

"I cannot allow you to retain Calixares and send only my brother's Balerion away. As I said, this is a parlay, peace will be discussed here, posing and showing off has no place here. You have proven that at least you have Targaryen blood, well done." She said as concession. "Anything else can be discussed later. For now take your dragon back to your camp please."

The supposed Aegon raised an eyebrow, his smile seguing into a scowl. "Or what, Viserys might feel some familial loyalty to you, but mine is the strongest claim, by what right do you give me orders?"

"I don't give you orders." Daenerys said smiling thinly. "If common courtesy does not move you, then I'll give an order to your dragon itself."

The man scowled, wondering if he should call her bluff but given what she had already done, calming four of the beasts so dramatically, he decided not to chance that it was a bluff at all. With a final scowl he turned Calixares around then ordered it into the air.

Once the two interlopers were gone Daenerys spent a few moments caressing Sunfyre and Rhaegon's heads. She sent them thoughts of affection and happiness that they didn't lose control along with pride in the same. Then she told them to find Myrcella, who would have a tasty meal for them, some bear meat that had been taken by a one of their foraging parties. Not as good as crab, but crab did not travel well. With that done Daenerys barely nodded at the two groups that had followed the dragons before entering the pavilion, allowing them to gawk after her.

Varys was staring after her thoughtfully as were the Golden Company commanders, while everyone in Arianne's party was looking shocked. Nymeria in particular was watching her with narrowed eyes, wondering how in the Stranger's Hells the woman had somehow controlled Balerion, who even his rider had trouble with.

For his part Petyr was now very worried. He had not wanted to be a part of this parlay, for various reasons, but Viserys had insisted andhe had not been able to get out of it. Not good, if she can control the beasts even that little a bit, they might be useless against her forces in battle. Without Balerion, our forces are by far the last least effective of the four gathered here in open battle. And then there is my old adversary Varys being among this 'Aegon's' army…

Varys was thinking along similar lines except his thoughts held more self-recrimination than Petyr's. I should've decided to back her entirely, rather than switch my allegiance to the easily led young Aegon. I had proof that Stark was more capable than I had thought, why didn't I think that the same could be said of the woman he took to wife? That bit of news had finally reached his ears, far too slow for his liking, but he had finally heard of it. But with Stark married to her, I doubt I could insinuate myself into their camp right now.

Others were dismayed as well, but not for the same reason as the others. Arianne was dismayed at seeing this dragonseed at all, realizing his presence meant any attempt to bring the Iron Bank to their side was useless. Her cousins were dismayed to see the acrimony between the three Targaryen factions, already seeing that bringing even two of them to the same side might be impossible.

While the two groups were discussing what happened and Daenerys was sitting down next to her husband demurely to grins from all around her, Stannis, Melisandre and his party arrived. Stannis wore a crown of gold denoted with flames and rubies, much like the one Viserys and the pretender were wearing though with different jewels.

Seeing this Ranma stood up, his face becoming grim as he recognized Mace from the description Margaery had given him once of her father. "If you'll excuse me, I need to go perform an pleasant duty." He moved to the edge of the pavilion, noting absently that it had begun to rain again, a light spritz that no doubt would continue through the rest of the day.

He nodded his head in acknowledgment of Lord Stannis. "Lord Stannis Baratheon, we never met, though my father thought highly of you before this all began. I'm Ranma Stark. I've met some of your witch's minions before this." He smiled thinly, watching as Stannis's eyes narrowed. "For now however, you probably noticed that we had to send Viserys and this newcomer back, so it will be a while before the parlay can actually commence."

Stannis nodded his head jerkily. "Your wife should never have brought her own dragons to this meeting, that was simply asking for trouble from those two. This should have been between men, and the fewer the better at the outset."

"Hindsight is always better than foresight my Lord, but that is neither here nor there. But I did not come out here to great you. I wish to speak to Lord Mace for a moment alone, if I could."

Stannis stared at him, then nodded and Ranma gestured Lord Ashford to join them. Mace scowled angrily. "Bah, whatever you wish to say to me can be said here! Are you going to demand a price for Ashford's parole, and where is my son if so?" He barked a laugh. "Hah, I bet you don't want to release him because you're scared of meeting him in battle!"

No news of the outcome of Ashford's and Loras' chase of the bastard king and his party had reached Mace. Stannis had heard about the outcome from Melisandre, and had not deemed it important enough to share with the man, but that battle had not been witnessed by any smallfolk, so word of it had not spread far yet.

"Lord Mace, I regret to inform you that your son Loras died nearly a month ago. He was killed by Jaime Kingslayer in battle. My own forces came upon the battle after Jaime and Lord Serret's forces had ambushed their pursuers, though Lord Ashford will be able to tell you more."

"No!" Mace said, his face going white and he clutched his heart for a moment over his breastplate, staggering back as the other Reach lords in earshot cursed and exclaimed in shock. "No! You lie! My son was the most magnificent knight in all of Westeros, no one could best him, not even the Kingslayer!"

"I'm sorry to say Lord Tyrell, but it's the truth." Lord Ashford said somewhat hesitantly. "We had chased the Bastard King for days, and scored a major victory against them once. But in the chase after that we had exhausted ourselves thinking that Lord Serret and his men were also exhausting themselves. But then they turned on us, catching us unawares. We lost much of our own men, and it was only the timely intervention of the Northerners that allowed any of us to survive."

Ashford sighed sadly, shaking his head. "I personally saw your son fall, and how Lord Stark avenged him. He the Kingslayer's sword arm off at the elbow, and has since sent him to the Wall."

"He should've been killed! The man was a traitor to all Westeros, an oathbreaker twice over!" Stannis said harshly joining the conversation while Mace's face went white, his knees seeming to fail him.

Though he would never admit it to anyone, Loras had long been his favorite. Willas had been touted by his grandmother so frequently with Mace's own intelligence compared negatively to his oldest son that a distance had grown between them. Garlan had not spent much time at home since he was 12, being sent to ward with House Tarly, then marrying right after returning from that before moving in to live with his wife's family. Margaery of course was a woman, and thus not as important in Mace's eyes save as a bargaining chip.

But Loras, Loras had been his favorite. A peerless knight Loras who had listened to Mace, and often times agreed with his ideas, who followed his instructions and getting closer to Renly and to the royal house. Strong, dependable, honorable, and willing to follow Mace without question unlike his older siblings Loras had been all Mace wanted in a child. His death was like a saber to Mace's heart.

"I would've executed him, except we need every able sword we can get on the Wall, which is the reason this parlay in the first place Lord Baratheon." Ranma said to Stannis, motioning Stannis to move to one side while Lord Ashford continued to talk about Loras and his last campaign to Mace.

Melisandre's eyes narrowed having followed the two. "So you know of the Great Other as well? Then why do you fight against the Azor Ahai! Is it just in misplaced lust for your wife and a wish to bow to her ambitions?"

"The word is love, Witch," said Ranma scowling at her. "I love my wife and that is never 'misplaced'. Besides, you sent your Shadow Warriors to attack her while she was under my protection but not yet my wife. No House could honorably surrender someone who they had vowed protections to, especially not to such a force as you sent against us."

Melisandre scowled while Stannis did the same toward her, motioning Melisandre to be silent. Ranma nodded and went on. "But as to the Others, the White Walkers? Yes I've known of them and planned for it. This war I had not planned, but we're here now, and what has happened in the past cannot be undone." He smiled thinly looking over Stannis's shoulder. "I see that 'Aegon' or whoever he is and Viserys have arrived, shall we sit?"

By the time Viserys and his supposed nephew arrived Stannis and Melisandre had taken their seats at the table opposite Ranma and Daenerys, though more than one lord had stopped, stunned to see Ser Barristan Selmy standing behind where Daenerys was sitting. The fact he was still alive, and apparently had given his fealty to Ranma and Daenerys, came as an unpleasant shock to many.

The two Targaryen members glared at one another as they sat opposite on the other two sides of the table, their own parties ranging behind them. Harry Strickland sat to Aegon's right while Grif sat on his left. Arianne sat to one side of Viserys, while Jorah Mormont sat to his other.

Jorah could barely tear his eyes away from Daenerys, she was simply magnificent! I should have murdered Viserys when I had the chance, then Illyrio and I could have backed Daenerys entirely, maybe even found a way to get out of marrying her off to that Dothraki barbarian! Too late now, damn it all!

When he did tear his eyes away from Daenerys, he found his niece Dacey glaring at him. She was standing directly behind Ranma, her eyes locked on Jorah like she wanted nothing more than to take his life right then, and he frowned, not having expected to see her, or any of his family really, and he looked away rapidly.

"I am uncertain why we are meeting like this at all." Viserys said angrily looking around at the others. "Unless some of you have had a sudden change of heart, we have nothing to talk about! Baratheon, you and your family are regicides, only you immediately bowing to me will negate that! As for you Stark, if my sister renounces her claim on the throne, I will let you and yours live and return to the North provided you swear to never raise blade against me and my House again. Yet I know neither is likely!"

Viserys didn't want to show it, but he was badly rattled by his sister's ability to control Balerion even if only a few moments with just the power of her voice and glare. Before that he would've settled for nothing but their deaths, but now, with the very real possibility that he might lose Balerion if they came down to a fight between him and his sister, he was willing to deal.

"To me you mean, they should bow to me." Said the blue haired youth across from Viserys, smiling thinly. He held out a hand, and Varys put a scroll in it, before going back to leering, in a semi-discreet manner, at Daenerys and the other ladies in the tent. All of them were gorgeous but his aunt was head and shoulders above the others. No one said my aunt was so gorgeous! Hmmm… She hasn't gotten bred by the Stark yet, and keeping the line true is important…

He smiled in what he thought was a winning manner. Daenerys thought it made him look like a simpleton. "I am Aegon, son of Rhaegar, firstborn of the last King, the last true King of Westeros. The lines of succession are clear uncle, and here are my proofs. My Dragon and my ability to bond with it, and the word of Varys and my own retainer, Jon Connington, who Rhaegar trusted above all others. The two of them secreted me out of King's Landing before the Lannister's betrayal with my mother's contrivance, replacing my body with that of a dragonseed, his hair dyed to look like mine."

"You do realize that the Iron Throne is gone? Any kind of credence or legitimacy you might have thought to take from it is gone with it." Ranma asked lightly while Daenerys smiled thinly. Since the two of them had decided long before the throne was actually destroyed to toss it aside as a symbol of power, it mattered not at all to them. But that bland statement badly rattled Viserys and Aegon, even though they must've heard of it before. They stopped and stared at the two of them, their jaws working angrily before glaring at Stannis.

Stannis glared right back. "King's Landing had to be cleansed. A plague, in that city? Yes, I could've continued the cordon, I could've continued to starve the people within. But would that have been a better way to die? Better to die quickly in fire then a slow lingering death like that to disease and malnourishment."

He glared at all three of those posing as king', before concentrating on Aegon then glaring at Jon. "I remember Jon Connington, and you do look like him, if sickly. I also remember the rumors that you were infatuated with Rhaegar. That you would do anything he asked. That you could come up with a plot to somehow avenge him is easily within the realm of possibility, regardless of any truth behind it. I saw the bodies of Elia and her children, and how the Lannisters betrayal had taken everyone in the Red Keep by surprise, even Varys. This youth is no more a pure Targaryen than I am!"

Viserys found himself agreeing with Stannis for a moment, moving past the fact of the Iron Throne and King's Landing being gone to tackle the current issue. "Anything that comes from the Master of Whisper's mouth is a lie! You might have enough Targaryen blood in you to get a dragon to obey you, but that does not make you my nephew Aegon, nor does it give you the right to call yourself King!"

"Nor does senseless brutality or a dragon to your name." Ranma said. "We've heard what you did in Dragonstone. Do you think that makes you a better option for kingship than this 'Aegon'? The fact you sit there with the traitor Littlefinger and the coward and slaver Jorah Mormont isn't exactly a mark in your favor either."

He smiled thinly, his blue eyes darker than the ocean. "By the way, my mother wants to see you Petyr, well, no, she wants to see your head. My father told her all about your betrayal of him, and how you were the one to convince Robert to send me away, and she was quite emphatic about wanting me to send her your head. Possibly with a bow attached, though personally I just want to kill you, not emasculate you like that."

Petyr gulped, torn between fear, grief and anger. So she truly has forsaken me entirely. Very well, I knew it long before this, and Sansa was always the better option anyway, unsullied as she is.

He let none of his thoughts show however, merely sitting there silent while Jorah scowled at the accusations thrown his way, accurate though they were. Yet Jorah couldn't say anything, pinned in place by the cool contempt in Daenerys' eyes, forcing him to look away.

Viserys however growled angrily, ignoring the accusations thrown at his advisor's feet. "My family conquered Westeros through fire and steel, and if I have to do the same I'll do it!"

"I would say that since only Dorne has agreed to follow you, that is a very high possibility. But what will be left of the country after brother?" Daenerys asked, angrily smacking her hand on the table. "We've also heard rumors about the campaign that set the Viper on, would you rule over a nation of dead?"

She turned to Aegon. "As for you, I agree with what has been said about your claims, that is all they are claims! Varys cannot be trusted, a traitor to not one but two Kings, who has always followed those who will promise him more power and security. And your own power is based on much the same, money. I don't see a single Lord of Westeros with you, I see mercenaries, bought and paid for by the iron Bank no doubt."

"Hah, that is just because we haven't been in Westeros over long!" Aegon proclaimed grandly. "I'll gather more allies given time. And I'd say uncle that in terms of conquering Westeros I've made a far better start than you! Varys said that Dragonstone and Driftmark were both taken from you the moment you fled with your tail between your legs from the Royal Navy! Whereas I have already conquered two houses on Massey's Hook!"

Two of the men with Stannis flinched at that, but Ranma simply shook his head. "Fire and sword, is that all you know? And I wouldn't get all puffed up about attacking two Houses when their fighting men were elsewhere."

Stannis nodded, holding up a hand to halt the two men, Lord Massey and Lord Bar Emmon, from speaking. "I agree with Stark on that point, but I would ask if you would be willing to ransom any prisoners of those families at this point."

"We took only two captive from Massey, and none from Bar Emmon." Aegon replied, shaking his head, smiling thinly. "One I doubt you'll want back and the other I refuse to part with for now. Until I get a replacement at least." He leered at Daenerys and Arianne suggestively but neither replied verbally, simply answering his leer with disdainful glares.

Lord Massey growled his hand clenched on his sword hilt. But Stannis held up a hand again, forcing the man to calm himself while Ranma, understanding what the boy was hinting at, growled angrily, the sound sending a shiver up more than one spine.

Next to him Daenerys sighed faintly leaning back but her eyes were hard, nailing Aegon to his seat. "I had hoped to speak to a representative of the Iron Bank, to convince them to back off from paying for this mad venture. With the Golden Tooth under our control, we could pay off the debt in its entirety given time."

The Golden Company men looked interested at that, though Aegon and Jon Connington sneered contemptuously at the idea. Daenerys shook her head. "However hearing what you have already done along with your own position, that option is off the table. Instead, my husband and I will reiterate our position. There is no debt accrued to us, and you and yours will pay dearly in blood to get your gold worth out of Westeros."

"And so we come down to what really makes a king." Stannis said smiling thinly. "No previous claim of Lordship or family ties matter here, only brute force. I broke my brother's army, I have the Reach and the might of the Stormlands and the Crownlands behind me. And I have the prophetess Melisandre, her powers are mine to use."

He looked at Ranma especially, understanding he was the most dangerous threat and the most reasonable. "I am the Azor Ahai, the one prophesied to beat back the White Walkers, or as Melisandre puts, it the Great Other. Join with me, and I will guarantee you, your family and your wife safety so long as you swear fealty."

"What talk is this?" Viserys scowled angrily though if that was at being ignored for a few moments or the talk of something he hadn't heard about before, none could say. "What is this Great Other?"

Melisandre spoke up from where she had sat silent up till now beside Stannis. "The Great Other is a creature of darkness and death, of cold endless winter. It is coming with the power of winter, and we have very little time before disaster strikes."

Ranma looked at her, frowning at the knowledge that it wasn't only the Old Gods who were seeing disaster on the horizon. They had barely a little under a month to go before the ultimatum of two months was over, and frankly from here there was no way he could get his army up to the North in time, not its entirety. Even if they could take to sea that would be impossible.

But that was neither here nor there. "Actually, you don't have the Reach behind you. You have some of its military force, and it's deposed Lord Paramount. Mace Tyrell, your daughter and oldest son have decided my Lord that you have made too many mistakes. You allowed the Reach to be attacked while you were off trying to put kingmaker, and you have backed a follower of a foreign god, going so far as to pledge your daughter to a then-married man." he said looking at Mace who had apparently gotten over his shock at Loras' death and was now puffing himself up like a fish, glaring angrily back at him.

"The Reach, through your daughter Lady Margaery, has sworn to follow us. We've already sent them aid, doing your job for you Mace and will send more if need be." Daenerys took over from Ranma smoothly, holding up the message Margaery sent him. "If you wish you may examine this missive Lady Margaery sent us, essentially pleading for aid and in return placing Highgarden, and in particular herself, at our service regardless of your own actions."

"How dare you!" Mace yelled, making no move to take the message. "My children have done no such thing!"

Behind Mace and Stannis however, many of the Reach lords and knights were looking at one another in shock, and, though many were trying to hide it, hope. Others seemed concerned, which made sense on many levels of course, but regardless it was obvious to Daenerys that Mace's control of the Reach lords wasn't as total as he thought. But Melisandre had turned her body slightly so that she was watching them as well as the men behind Ranma, and most of their faces blanked quickly.

"My Lord." Said Lord Ashford quietly, as if to mirror Daenerys' thoughts. "I gave them my parole and my oath willingly. Loras, your son, he did not wish to follow Stannis. Not just because of his personal friendship with Renly, but because of Stannis's religion, as Lord Stark has said. How can you stand there and follow a fire worshiper, who listens to a witch who burns people alive! The lord who burned the entirety of King's Landing, whatever the reason!"

The septon Ehric took this opportunity to speak up, his voice solemn, soft yet carrying to every ear, and what he said caused even more consternation among the lords behind Stannis, than Ranma's statement. Even one or two houses among the Dornish contingent seemed startled. "The conclave of the Devout of the Seven has decided that Ranma and Daenerys Stargaryen are the right king and queen of Westeros. Her Majesty wears the sign of this backing at her side."

Daenerys smiled thinly pulling Dark Sister out of its sheathe slowly, holding it up to the light of the torches in the corners of the pavilion so that the others could see the Valyrian blade. "Dark Sister, the sword of Visenya Targaryen last wielded by Bloodraven, which was lost in the Dance of the Dragons, given to me by the Seven's representative as proof of their backing. As a sign of the rightness of our cause, one of the two blades House Targaryen wielded when they conquered Westeros takes some beating."

In response Viserys' teeth clenched, and Aegon and Varys scowled. Varys in particular was angry because Daenerys was right, as a sign of her primacy over the other two Targaryen claimants, that and her dragons were incredibly hard to beat. Stranger's Hell's, why couldn't Blackfyre have really been among the Golden Company, with that at least Aegon would have something the others would have to respect in terms of his claim. I truly did back the wrong horse in this race, curse it! And with Ranma of the oh-so-blindly honorable Starks sitting next to her, I could never convince her to allow me to switch sides, at least not without getting her alone first.

Stannis however ignored the sword, addressing the more important aspect in a combative tone of voice while Melisandre continued to sneak glances at their own lords. "Where were the Seven when we needed them? They never answered our prayers, never gave us power! When Melisandre asks R'hllor for power, it replies, that is all there is to it. I believe what I can see. The Seven, I have never seen proof of their existence!"

"R'hllor is the true god, all others are mere demons!" Melisandre said, her voice intense, her eyes alight with fervor.

That caused some anger from both the lords behind Ranma and some from her own camp and Viserys'.

Realizing this and looking at the faces of Aegon, Stannis and Viserys along with their advisors, Ranma knew that everyone had said what they had to at this point. All that was left was needless posturing, so he decided to cut it short. We've already planted a few seeds, and so have they among themselves. If there was one thing Ranma was certain of, none of these three had anything his own lords were interested in hearing at this point, certainly nothing that would make them change their allegiance at this late a date.

He stood up abruptly, motioning Daenerys to do the same. "We've all said what we wish to, and none of us are willing at this point to actually listen. We were here to talk not make threats, but none of you are willing to truly listen. Very well, the battlefield will have to decide this. Any Lord that takes his men and walks away from this will be allowed to do so, provided that they swear allegiance to my wife and I later. But at the moment I do not see if there can never be real peace between any of our camps."

Harry frowned, and was about to speak up, but Ranma turned to stare at him. "As for you mercenaries, if you hadn't already made war on Westerosi soil already, I would be willing to let you walk. As it is, you may retreat to Duskendale and leave these shores, if you leave everything you have taken in your assaults on those Houses."

The Golden company commanders scowled, seeing the contempt in Ranma's eyes, the hate in more than one lord's faces. Even Viserys was sneering at them. He had long hoped to woo the Golden Company to his side, and had spent hundreds, thousands of gold dragons trying to woo them. Yet the men now backing this false Aegon had eaten his food and drunk his wine then laughed in his face.

Stannis stood up as well, sneering at young Aegon and Viserys before glaring across the table at Ranma. "I agree with Lord Stark on you foreign scum yet I will say the same to you pretender, and you Stark. Disband your armies and bend the knee to me. Only then will this conflict end Stark and we can turn our attention to more important matters."

The young man going by the name Aegon stood as well glaring at them all equally. "There is one more way, with your deaths. I too will allow any Lord to walk away from this, you don't have to die for the stupidity of others." He said staring at the lords behind Stannis, Ranma and Viserys. "Go home, take your men and go. Bow to the throne later, so that you don't have to die now."

Viserys simply scoffed. "But who will they bow to, pretender? You don't even have the true Targaryen hair! Your claim is nothing, your power is nothing, bought and paid for by the gold of the Iron Bank as my sister says! And it will run just as easily as the steel that made the Iron Throne under Balerion's breath!"

He then turned to Stannis and Daenerys. "I have nothing to say to you Baratheon, you and your brother rebelled, and will pay the price."

Arianne spoke up before he could go on. "And if you fight us, your daughter will pay the price. Lady Shireen has been in our care since we took Dragonstone."

More than one lord behind Stannis gasped, and Stannis paled for a moment before his face firmed. "No, i will not be bidden like that. If you wish to make my innocent daughter 'pay' for my fighting you so be it, my vengeance on you and your house will be all the worse."

In response to that and the look in his eye Arianne actually quailed for a moment while Elia and Nymeria shared a glance behind her. They had not wanted to bring up Shireen at all in this meeting, hoping to keep her, and the fact they had treated her well despite Viserys (or Petyr strangely enough) at times, in reserve to procure their own well-being if things went wrong. But that might not be an option any longer, if Viserys gave orders to the contrary.

Viserys however merely scoffed and turned to his sister. "As for you sister, you and your wolf, you whored yourself out to him so that you could have your own power base, but it is not enough! I have the greater claim regardless of what you or anyone else thinks!"

"I'm willing to take the test of dragonfire." Daenerys said smiling thinly at both men. "Are you? I have already been bathed in dragonfire once, proving my immunity. Have you? Who is the true dragon here?"

Ranma ignored the glaring between the three Targaryen members staring hard at the lords beyond Viserys and Stannis, who both stood up in preparation to leave was well. "Walk away from this field today my lords, lest none of you leave alive tomorrow." With that he turned, taking Daenerys's hand and moving towards Fenris while his lords followed grimly.

OOOOOOO

Later that night Ranma bid Daenerys and Myrcella farewell with a kiss for both of them, before exiting their tent. Daenerys followed, looking at her dragons before sending Rhaegon into the sky. Dragons could see as well as direwolves in the dark and if need be Rhaegon would be joining the defense against the threat they all knew was coming tonight. Around the fire set outside the royal's tent the Wolfsworn waited.

Patrek was there too, helping the others into their armor while looking morose. His training had not yet reached the point where he could use ki to empower his sword, so would be useless tonight. Ranma had actually thought about giving him Ice for the evening, but he wasn't trained on a greatsword, and he wasn't as fast or as strong as the Wolfsworn either. Sending him against the Shadow Warriors would be sending him to his death. Only the Wolfsworn had a chance against those creatures.

Ranma stood in front of them while behind him Fenris bumped his large head against Myrcella and Daenerys, receiving scratchings behind his ear before joining his bonded. "We all know what we're going to face. We're the biggest threat to Stannis, we'll face the lion's share of the witch's Shadow Warriors.

"You think he'll send any at all against the other two armies?" Smalljon asked, putting the finishing touches on his greatsword's edge. He closed his eyes for a brief second concentrating, and the edge began to glow blue gold, causing him to smile thinly behind his beard.

"Maybe, depends on how many the Witch has made. Stannis will want to overwhelm us and cause a lot of damage to the army, but we have to assume they know we can fight them, maybe not all of you, but me, Fenris and the dragons."

Roger grunted, leaning down to kiss Osha who while tall for a woman was still a head shorter than him. She was not joining them for this excursion. Not having any training with Ranma and no ki to speak of, Roger had jumped on that as an excuse to keep her from coming. He so very rarely could come up with one after all. Roger then turned away his new Valyrian sword in one hand. He had been trained on the longsword before taking up the battleax by preference. Thankfully Osha had not figured out that Valyrian blades didn't need 'ki', to be deadly to the Shadow Warriors.

He smirked suddenly. "I wonder what Jon and Arya will think when they hear they missed this party. Or even Edd! He might get a wife out of his trip, but I bet he'd give it over to be here now."

"I predict language they would not want our mother to hear." Ranma quipped, though inside he wished all three of them were here. For this battle he'd want the entire Wolfsworn here if he could get it, and he cursed himself once again for having sent Jon and Arya off as he had.

He exchanged a nod with Hathan, who stood up his heavy armor clanking greatsword sheathed along his back the same as Ice for Ranma. Then he looked around at the others and simply nodded. "Let's hunt, Wolfsworn."

They made their way through the camp, exchanging greetings with those who were still awake, while around them some 2000 irregular infantry were being armed with the little surprise that Ranma had prepared up in Seagard. Once they were armed they marched out along with the pike regiments as quietly as they could towards the west without any lights or anything else to give their progress away.

Patrek went with them as their commander until Smalljon or Ranma could join them. There was a small dip in the land about two leagues distance at the far end of the small forest they had been using as a source for wood. They would hide there for the rest of the night.

They might not've been able to hide from Stannis if his army was north or south of us, but as it is, the Golden Company and Dornish will do our job for us and keep his scouts from seeing that force. Ranma thought grimly as he continued through the camp.

Behind him Smalljon stopped, exchanging a hard hand clasp with his father before moving on, with Daryn, Roger and Dacey doing the same while Hathan did the same with Wendel. Everyone knew that Hathan was Wendell's half-brother, but they wouldn't acknowledge it, they owed the memory of Lady Manderly that much. Still, the hand clasp they shared before Hathan followed the others was warm and heartfelt.

Soon they reached the front line of the camp, where several dozen swordsmen were guarding the barricade, and 200 archers were stationed on top of each fort marking either edge. They all nodded at the Wolfsworn, the entire army knew what the Wolfsworn were going to face tonight. Knew that they were the only ones that that even if Valyrian blades had been made available to all of them, it would still have been an uphill battle to fight the Shadow Warriors.

"So how are we going to do this boss?" said Roger his fingers, twitching his eyes alight. He detested the tension before battle, and always sought to make light of it.

"Spread out, with Fenris and I in the center facing Stannis' army. Spread out until you can barely see one another, then wait for Fenris to give the signal to light up our blades. It is time for the Shadows to Fall lads, who's with me!?" Ranma's words were answered with a roar and the Wolfsworn walked on into the dark of night beyond the camp.

OOOOOOO

The armies of Aegon and Viserys didn't have the Wolfsworn, and lacked any kind of magic of their own, but they did have two of the most capable spymasters in Westeros. So they knew that Melisandre might be sending out her Warriors, but also had ideas on what could face them.

Having no other recourse, Viserys set Balerion out on the edge of the army where he could see Stannis' army in the distance. Behind Balerion, Viserys had the lords who had Valyrian blades on guard, since Petyr, like Varys, had found out that such blades negated other magic, having been made by the fires of dragons, which was inherently magical. Yet such blades were extremely rare, and only two Houses had such. House Yronwood had one, called Steel Branch, and House Jordayne had another called Ocean's Call. But that was all.

Aegon did the same, but the Golden Company had more Valyrian blades in its possession. Such blades were slightly more common in Essos, where the Valyrian Freehold had held territory for so long. The Golden Company had seven blades, all longswords, though surprisingly the leader of the Company of the Rose, Rochland the Giant, had a Valyrian greatsword.

Despite their preparations both 'kings' were nervous, far more nervous than they had been during the day. The reports of the Shadow Warriors were horrifying and had made their situation worse than it already had been.

Balerion reared its head up, staring out into the darkness as movement caught his attention. He hadn't been fed yet, making him both hungry and angry, thrashing in its chains but not yet hungry enough or angry enough to try to turn its flame on the encampment behind it. Besides, the camp was out of his range anyway.

Out of the dark of the night came Shadow Warriors, five of them loping their way through the grassland towards Viserys' army. Seeing the dragon, they slightly changed course coming straight towards it.

Balerion's eyes narrowed, the red in them deepening into that of carmine as he reared up on his back legs. Flames began to appear around his lips, then Balerion opened his mouth, unleashing a torrent of flame upon the creatures. Three of them died screaming in that first attack, but the other two quickly spread out, coming at the large dragon from two different directions.

"RAAAHhh!" With a roar Balerion whirled, bringing its tail around to smash one of them. The blow flung it back unharmed while it's blade cut into the dragon's tail near where he been injured in the battle against the Royal Navy. Balerion roared again, it's flames engulfing the fourth Shadow Warrior before it turned, and a fireball destroyed the last. For a moment all was silent, then Balerion roared a third time in triumph. "RAAAAGGGHHH!"

Hearing that sound in the camp Viserys smiled thinly at his wife. "You see my dear, even magical creations cannot withstand dragonfire!"

Arianne nodded, then gestured to a few camp workers nearby. "Prepare some of the food and take it forward to Balerion, he's earned his meal tonight."

"I wonder if my dear sister and her paramour will be able to handle this…." Viserys mused. "She has two dragons true, but I'll warrant neither have the fire or combat mentality of mine. But Stark does have his own skills and Ice. Hmm…."

Despite their advantage in having more Valyrian blades, the Golden Company fared far worse. Again five Shadow Warriors were sent against it, but they attacked slightly later than the attack on Viserys. Melisandre had learned from their fellow's demise, and her mental commands had this group spread out. Only two of them engaged the smaller Dragon. The other three attacked the camp itself, slaying more than a hundred-and-sixty men before they were felled by the men who carried Valyrian blades.

But Ranma and Daenerys were right, the main blow fell on them.

OOOOOOO

At the same time that those attacks were occurring, Ranma and the others had spread out, waiting nervously in the dark well away from the torches of their own army in an effort to bring more of the attack on themselves even if the Shadow Warriors spread too wide for all of their number to be caught on the line.

It was a very nervous time for most of them, waiting there in the dark with your friends only slim silhouettes in the distance. Not wanting any of them to ruin their night vision they hadn't brought along torches. Thankfully the moon was high in the sky, and it and the stars provided enough light to see for the most part.

To ease some of the tension Ranma addressed Hathan in a loud voice. "So Hathan, have you decided on the words of your House yet?"

From his far right Hathan shouted back, his voice carrying to the rest of the Wolfsworn present easily. "I've narrowed it down to four choices. "'Our shield for your back', 'shield of the North','our honor is our shield', or simply 'honors shield'."

"The fourth one." said several voices through the night. "The others are too wordy." Roger went on shaking his head. "You could've told me you were having trouble with that you now, I would've helped you out."

"I've heard some of your poetry Roger." Said Hathan, and even though he couldn't see it Ranma could easily picture Hathan's smile. "Your wife's not interested in you for your ability with song and verse, my friend."

"Was that a joke?" Smalljon asked incredulously. "It was almost funny. Keep at it, we might make a jester out of you yet!"

"Old Gods forfend!" said Ranma and Hathan together, causing them all to laugh.

Then the time for jokes was over. Fenris suddenly sat up from where he had been lying beside Ranma. He sat up sniffing at then wind, howling aloud and snarling his teeth suddenly gleaming blue and gold in the darkness. "AWOOOO!"

Ranma link his senses to that of his direwolf for a moment, seeing the Shadows rising coming towards them. "Here they come!" he shouted aloud breaking the connection, pulling out Ice and holding it above his head while his fist began to glow blue gold. "Light them up boys, it's time to show the shadows the light can fight back! Winter is coming!" He howled aloud and then charged towards the incoming clumps of Shadow Warriors.

For a moment his friends could only stare in shock at the image of their leader charging forward with Fenris at his side then concentrated for those brief moments it took to bring out their ki into their weapons and howled after him. "The Wolves, the Wolfsworn for the king!"

OOOOOOO

Back in the camp Daenerys stood silently in the tent, her eyes closed as she concentrated on her two dragons both of which were now aloft and flying around the camp staring down into the darkness. Good luck my love.

Next to her Myrcella took her hand squeezing it gently. Daenerys squeezed back thankful for the girls support, while she continued to watch the evolving action through her dragons' eyes, both of them at once despite it being a very disconcerting feeling. If the Wolfsworn failed or were flanked too badly she would have to send her dragons in to aid them, but if she did that she would put the Wolfsworn in just as much danger as their opponents. Unless I see a clump of them breaking off or something…

OOOOOOO

The sudden howl of the Wolfsworn's raised voices along with Ranma's charge seemed to startle the Shadow Warriors coming towards the Stargaryen camp. But after that brief moment of hesitation they charged too silent as always, though they were not the uniform mass Ranma had expected.

A few of them were the giant, more solid looking types that Rama had battled with Fenris a few weeks back. Others looked almost half finished, as if the substance that made them up was losing power, their swords nonexistent only using their claws as weapons. Others were the more normal sort, with swords which looked like carved ebony in the darkness, drinking in what little light there was. All of them had the breeds fell red eyes, all of them stood taller than a man, moving with an unnatural loping speed that was disconcerting to watch as they closed through the moonlit landscape. Their limbs didn't quite move correctly, but it was obvious they were in full control of their bodies even so.

But worse was their numbers. There were over 120 of them streaking straight towards the Wolfsworn.

Ranma and Fenris slammed into the center of their advancing force like a hammer. Their bodies were entirely covered in blue-gold armor for a moment, blazing in the night visibly from the watchmen back in the forts before they were inside the Shadow Warrior's formation. They cut, hacked, bit, clawed at the Shadow Warriors all around them, downing ten in as many seconds.

The Shadow Warriors advance folded around them, trying to envelop them, but then the Wolfsworn hit. Daryn cut down a Shadow Warrior from behind his sword stained blue-gold with the light of his life energy, before he batted aside another Warrior's sword, leaving that Shadow Warrior open for an attack from Hathan which cut it in twain.

"Riding Free!" Roger roared nearby, yelling his family's battle cry and cutting to either side of him with his blade, which He had taken to calling Roan for the color of its blade. Next to him Dacey stood, guarding his back and hacking at the unholy creatures with her own glowing blue-gold blade, while Smalljon simply bellowed wordless defiance, his massive greatsword whirling around him.

For a moment again the Shadow Warriors seemed to hesitate, something about those glowing blades and the fact that they could be harmed by them penetrating what little thought processes the Shadow Warriors possessed. But then they attacked with renewed vigor spurred on further by the urge to kill.

"Back to back!" shouted Ranma over the din of battle and the screams of the Shadow Warriors, who always screamed when they died, the only noise they ever made in battle. Ice took one Shadow Warrior in the gut, then Ranma leaped into the air, kicking out with feet that suddenly glowed with ki fire. Both feet impacted other Shadow Warriors in the chest, crushing them and sending them flying backwards screaming as they dissipated from what would've been shattered rib cage is and burst internal organs on a man. His heightened position however allowed him to see that the Shadow Warriors were now all concentrating on them.

"Form a circle, now! They're all focused on us!" So saying Ranma landed on an upraised tower shield of one of the larger Shadow Warriors.

He quickly thrust Ice deep into its skull, the Valyrian blade bursting out the back of its skull before Ranma ripped the blade sideways viciously, slicing into another Shadow Warriors shoulder as the first dissipated. Launching himself off the barely there substance of the shield Ranma landed near where Fenris was fighting snarling and ripping and tearing at the shadow monsters.

Rather than forming a wall in front of the army the Wolfsworn now formed a forward position, pulling all the Shadow Warriors who were supposed to attack the camp down upon themselves. It was working to protect the camp, but the battle was fierce and hard-fought. While they all had a speed advantage over the creatures, it wasn't as much as Ranma's and the wolfsworn for all their skills were mortal.

Only a few minutes into the fight Hathan grunted, teeth clenched over a scream. A Shadow Warrior's claws had just punched through the plate armor over one shoulder piercing through as easily as if it was made of paper to dig five holes into his shoulder. Luckily the wounds weren't deep. In response Hathan brought his greatsword down in an overhand strike, cleaving that warrior in two. "Why is it always me?"

"It's not just you this time, you big whiner!" growled Dacey, standing beside him to his left. She was limping badly, having taken a slash from one of the Shadow Warrior's swords to her thigh.

She didn't even look up as Fenris leaped over her head to land in the center of the circle of Wolfsworn. He stood there while his ki strengthening technique faded for a moment. He panted, his tongue lolling, before licking at a wound along one forepaw.

In front of the Wolfsworn's circle Ranma continued to fight, leaping here there and everywhere, occasionally using the Kijin Raishin Dan to slaughter a particularly large batch of Shadow Warriors and making certain to intercept the few larger of the larger types he saw. The attack however didn't seem to work well on them. Only the front ranks of them dissipated entirely, while the others would somehow reform in a few seconds. Ranma was not at all certain of the mechanics of that, nor did he care right now. It was still doing damage, but it was wearing him out quickly.

Behind Ranma, Roger overextended on a lunge, letting his body open for an attack from his side. A Shadow Warrior pounced on the opportunity, it's claws raking his side deeply causing him. "Aghh old gods damn you and the bitch that spawned you!" The glow of his sword went out for a moment as he lost the concentration needed to keep ki funneling into the blade for an instant. Daryn's blade caught the creature in the side of the neck, killing him instantly while Roger got his feet under him again.

"Are you all right?" Daryn asked. Beside them Smalljon hacked and roared laughing loudly drawing a bit more attention than the others for a moment while Daryn saw to Roger.

"I'll be fine eventually I suppose." Roger said but his voice was filled with pain. "These bastards are tough!"

He waved off Daryn, standing up again despite grimacing in pain but still game enough, though his sword no longer glowed with his ki. Roger instead had to rely solely on its Valyrian steel. It was well he did, because two more Shadow Warriors came at him then and he raised his sword, and he met them with a roar, hacking them both down in a series of slashes and thrusts. "Come on you fuckers!"

OOOOOOO

Daenerys grimaced angrily. Seeing the level of combat through her dragon's eyes, she sent them towards Stannis' army. If there are anymore Shadow Warriors coming, my dragons have to intercept them. I know it's a risk, with the damn Red Bitch and whatever powers she has, but it's one I have to take. Or else none of the Wolfsworn might through the night.

Through Sunfyre's eyes she saw them, another column of Shadow Warriors. She had no idea how many there were, but there looks to be at least half again the number that was already fighting the Wolfsworn. If they join the fight, even Ranma might be overwhelmed, or worse, they could ignore him and our friends entirely to attack the army. That would be disastrous! With that thought she sent her dragons down, attacking.

OOOOOOO

In the enemy camp Melisandre had waited for this moment. Yes!

Staring into the fire that she was currently using as a focus Melisandre thrust her hands out towards the images of the two dragons that only she could see flying through the flames. She grabbed them both, laughing maniacally as the fire inside the dragons called to her and R'hllor. Yes, the fire within you is still under the control of a higher power, foul, debased creatures. Now you will feel it's true might!

The moment the dragons opened their mouth, the unique magical and alchemical reaction creating their flames at the back of their throats she grasped it, turning it on the dragons themselves. Instead of roaring out of their mouths, it began to turn on its creators, beginning to crawl around their mouths and down their gullets.

OOOOOOO

"No!" Daenerys said aloud and in her head. Feeling her little ones in pain she desperately told them to stop, mentally ordering them to rise into the air and come towards her and away from the witch's influence. They both obeyed quickly, soaring higher into the sky and away from whatever was somehow turning their own fires against them, but the pain in their mouths persisted.

OOOOOOO

Melisandre grimaced, extending her willpower, losing some of her control over her Shadow Warriors. The second group, instead of heading towards the Stargaryen camp, now made towards where their fellows were still battling. That first group had been whittled down to half strength now, if that, with more dying every second. But if I can kill the dragons, then even if all of my Shadowbound die this nights wo, work…

Her attention suddenly wavered, her limbs beginning to feel heavy. She stared into the fire, her eyes opening wide as she looked around wondering where the exhaustion was coming from. "W-what?"

As she came out of her trance Melisandre noticed her two attendants for the evening had collapsed where they had stood. One looked as if she had been in the process of moving toward her, while the other had simply fallen. One of them, the larger of the two, was still alive, hacking and clawing at her throat, while the other was still and dead.

Even as she took in this surprising sight, Melisandre fell to the side shaking and shuddering. Some kind of, of poison, but how, where did it come from and how did I not see this attempt on my life in my visions? No, deal with it then worry about the how.

With an effort of will Melisandre reached out, grasping the dying life force of her acolyte and forcing it into the holy flames. The fire roared up, and she grasped it's power, pouring that power through her own body. She convulsed as it struck her, beginning to sweat profusely, burning whatever poison was within her out before it could complete it's fell task.

From the back of the tent someone entered through a tiny, almost invisible rent made there. It was a man, his features were nondescript, in fact they were totally nondescript far more than any normal person. There was nothing whatsoever about him to mark him out as an individual, he was quite literally the face that could be lost in the crowd.

Interesting, I will have to make a note for our archives, that with magic coming back into the world R'hllor worshipers can apparently burn poison out of their bodies. And are much tougher than they should be toward it in the first place, this woman should be dead several times over now. Now I have to kill her with my blade, pity. With a faint, almost unheard sigh the man picked up a tiny incense burner that had been hidden directly behind the fire pit, it's smoke joining that of these sacred fire that Melisandre had been using.

Melisandre stared at the man, knowing him for what he was. "Faceless!"

Now the man spoke, a single work. "Indeed." He stood above her, the dagger ready as he knelt down. There was no last minute gloating, no apology or banter, simply a professional going about his business.

Seeing that blade ready to plunge into her chest Melisandre groaned, pulling back all of her concentration from the fire, her spirit once more fully inhabited her body, and she began to conjure fire from one of her palms. Before the man could do more than gawk the fire impacted his chest, throwing him backwards. But to her surprise it didn't burn him, rather he was able to pull off his clothing and tossing it to the side to reveal an almost unburnt chest.

But that still gave Melisandre enough time to raise her voice and cry the alarm. "To me! Assassin!"

Five of the Fire Guard burst through the tent flaps, their blades already out, but the Faceless man was faster. Dodging another fireball from Melisandre he was already in the back of the tent. In another second he was out and through it, running out into the rest of the army and mingling with the men.

"Two of you stay here to guard me inside the tent!" She ordered, moving around the sacred fire and grabbing the incense wrapping it in some of her clothing to keep the smoke from escaping any further. "Another one of you dispose of this, bury it somewhere!" She turned to the last two. You rouse your brothers scour the entire army! Find him!"

With that done, she turned back to the sacred fire scowling angrily. The moment she once more sent her sense into it however she realized it was too late. The dragons had destroyed the second column of Shadow Warriors before retreating back into their camp, their fires doused for the evening. Dammit!

OOOOOOO

The battle against the Shadow Warriors had continued throughout Melisandre's difficulties, and that battle had been just as hard fought as the one she had faced. Every Wolfsworn now sported injuries. Daryn could barely walk on a wounded leg, his thigh having taken several slashes from a Shadow Warrior's claws. Hathan had his helmet smashed in by a blow from one of the giant warrior's tower shields along with the injury to his shoulder. Roger's back had been opened by a slash from a sword, and his leg gauged. Dacey had lost her little finger and index finger from her offhand. Her lower leg was also bleeding profusely from a cut made there.

Smalljon however was the worst injured. His helmet had been opened up by a Shadow Warrior's s blade which had taken out his eye, leaving the socket a bloody ruin. His side had been opened as well, though not as bad as Roger's, by the sword of another warrior.

But even so Smalljon was still fighting, roaring challenges, hacking and slashing with his greatsword, which continued to glow blue-gold. The intervening time since they had left the North had been good for Smalljon's ability to use ki and it was serving him well here. "The Giant's Rage will claim you all, you misty bastards!"

Outside the circle Ranma and Fenris were still going strong. The both of them had sustained cuts and bruises. Ranma's lizard-lion armor looked as if someone had taken a hammer to it, with danced dings and scratches everywhere. Fenris was bleeding from several dozen cuts along his massive frame, and he had lost one claw on a back foot.

Ranma looked up after hacking down another Shadow Warrior, and suddenly there were no other warriors around him. A few were still around the Wolfsworn, and he attacked them from behind, before staring wildly out into the night merging his senses with that of Fenris. Fenris too looked around, sitting on his haunches and staring out into the darkness. After a moment he threw back his head and howled in victory, a sound that echoed for leagues in every direction, causing many of the horses and other animals in the camps of their enemies to stir uneasily even at this range. "AROOOOOOO, AWOOOOOO!"

"We did it!" Ranma shouted. "We did it!"

The Wolfsworn answered with a weary but heartfelt roar while Ranma quickly moved to aid Roger as he nearly collapsed, the adrenaline leaving his body with a lurch and the agony of his leg. To one side S+malljon and Daryn leaned on one another, shaking their heads wearily.

With Fenris carrying Smalljon and Roger while the others all leaned on one another they made their way back to the camp. Daenerys and Myrcella met them with over a dozen of Myrcella's helpers, who quickly went to work while around them the guards began a low cheer, mindful of not waking up their fellows since battle might begin the next day. King in the North! Stark! Stark!"

Most of the commanders however were still awake despite that knowledge having known about what was going on. They all moved forward, congratulating Ranma and his friends on their victory until Myrcella shouted aloud "will you lot get back!? Let me and my helpers do our work!"

Greatjon guffawed, but his humor faded as he saw the severity of his son's wound. Then he shook his head laughing quietly. "Your uncle Mors going to be pleased my son, he's not the only one-eyed fool in the family now."

Smalljon laughed weakly, leaning heavily on Hathan's solid form while Myrcella began to work on his ruined eye socket.

To one side Daenerys hugged Ranma to her, watching their lover go to work on their other friends while Daenerys told her part of tonight's tale. "The worst part is, I don't know if the Red Bitch's power failed because we got too far away and she couldn't reestablish whenever connection she was trying to use, or something on her end interrupted the attempt. I, I honestly don't think my dragons will be able to attack any of the armies tomorrow, we'll try to keep the other two off our collective backs Ranma, but…

She shrugged her shoulders, shivering. "It was the most useless feeling I have ever felt! I couldn't do anything, my connection to my little ones is through their minds and hearts, I can't do anything about their bodies. All I could do was tell them to run, and it, it…."

"I know." Ranma said with a sigh, his eyes closing in weariness before he opened them again, concentrating on her face. "She's a danger to us all, but I think we can match her."

"Are you certain we can win this Ranma? With the training you've given the army on moving silently, we could all be out of here tonight, not just Patrek and his force." Daenerys asked worriedly.

"No." Ranma shook his head. "Remember the time limit. We're dangerously close to a time when none of us could get up north, let alone the full army. We need to finish this now."

Daenerys looked at him for a moment then nodded kissing him lightly on the cheek. "All right. I'll get my little ones to rest for the rest of the night, you do the same. I'm afraid however…" she said looking over at the Wolfsworn, "that the Wolfsworn will be sitting out this battle."

OOOOOOO

The next morning as dawn broke Viserys smiled grimly. Everyone in his army, and probably all the others knew that something had happened last night. Specifically something major between where Stannis' army was encamped and where his dear sister's army had forted up. Who won or who lost that engagement Viserys didn't know, but he judged that his sister had since the guards on duty later that night had reported flashes of dragon fire in the distance. Yet whoever one or lost was immaterial, taking advantage of any weakness in either opponent was much more important.

In front of Viserys two thousand-men bands of horse archers rode out of the camp heading towards where the Northerners and Stannis' camps were. Lord Allyrion and Lord Ladybright led them, their families making up nearly the entirety of the units. Both men bowed their heads from the saddle to Viserys as they passed, while the rest of the army was forming up quickly. They would attack both camps in the habitual style of horse archers, hitting and running, thought their main task would be to see if either army had taken much in the way of casualties last night.

The rest of the army was also breaking camp, the process under Lord Fowler's command. They would attack whichever army had been weakened the most in last night's action, with the Levy forces from Gulltown and the rest of the infantry from the Vale that they had picked up leading the way under Ser Jorah's command. The remainder of the army, the pikemen, the light horse, horse archers, and light infantry which made up the larger portion of their army would follow them in allowing. The plan was to have the more expendable levy troops and better armored Valemen create a hole in the enemy's lines, which the rest of the army would then exploit.

"Keep at least half the horse archers and all the pike forces in reserve." Viserys said again, not acknowledging that he was actually speaking advice he had taken from Elia Sand. "If our infantry make any headway we can send them then to flank whichever of our enemies has been weakened, but the northern entrenchments are too good, and the Baratheon army's numbers too much for us to attack all out without letting them and the Golden Company battle first."

Arianne and the other lords standing around Viserys nodded fervent agreement. Every lord was very aware of the fact that they couldn't take that many casualties, and all of them were self-centered in a way. This battle might well settle everything, but they all wanted their own Houses to still have some kind of military force after it was all over.

OOOOOOO

At the same time Viserys was setting his army into motion, Aegon was doing the same. He was angry, last night's assault had slain several hundred men but it was also obvious that the attack on his army had not been the main target. Aegon was infuriated at this sign that he wasn't important, that he was somehow merely a sideshow to the main event.

However his advisers were much more capable of talking him around then Viserys' were. Therefore instead of splitting his strength and probing like Viserys was the Golden Company formed up into a massive column its spear phalanxes bristling as the men in them marched in step showing off the discipline that made the Golden Company what it was. In front of them the elephants, their massive bulk festooned with chainmail from head to toe, moved forward trumpeting loudly to one another. On top of those mobile siege weapons sat small towers, each of them holding 15 archers.

Their target was the camp of Aegon's aunt. The Golden Company commanders felt Stark had won last night's clash, and that the Northerners remained the most potent threat particularly after Daenerys' show of being able to control other dragons even if for a short amount of time. In fact Aegon had insisted on the assault because of that, worried that she could somehow take Calixares away from him. That was something he would never allow.

Strickland might have objected to this, thinking that Daenerys and Ranma were the most reasonable of their enemies and could possibly be reasoned with after the other two were dealt with, but his fellow commanders had argued against it. They saw that the fortifications facing them were the weakest the Northerners had, which was an opportunity they could not overlook. And the Golden Company, whose belief in their discipline and unit tactics was imbued into their very bones, believed that if they could get in among the Northern/Riverlands camp, they would be able to slaughter the numerically superior Stargaryen army.

However Harry, Lysono and his other commanders were not blind to the dangers that Stannis' army posed. Even if they had lost whatever magical battle had taken place last night the combined Reach and Stormlands forces retained numerical superiority over any other the other three armies in the field, if somewhat thinly, over the forces from the Riverlands and the North. To combat this threat the Golden Company had sent the Second Sons and the Company of the Rose out to guard its flank, aided by light cavalry and a few screening out elements. It also kept most of its archers and two thousand of its spearmen back as a reserve, under the command of, against most of the commanders' better judgment, Jon Connington.

The Second Sons and Company of the Rose's job would be to only slow down any attack from that direction, allowing for the reserve, which would follow the main spear phalanx slowly, to turn and prepare itself.

OOOOOOO

Ranma stood on top of a single large wooden pole in the center of the army's camp. It was simply a series of planks set into the ground, with Ranma standing on top balancing there with ease to the awe and amusement of most of his army.

Using a Myrish spyglass Ranma stared towards the north first, seeing movement. "Signal the army to be ready for an attack, I want all of our lines ready to receive."

Turning to the south he saw similar signs of movement, only this was much larger. Coming from directly west from Stannis' army, another column of dust began to appear. And another column, this one seeming more concentrated was coming from the south. "We're about to have company."

OOOOOOO

Lord Allyrion crested a hill, from which he could see the outskirts of Stannis' camp in the distance. Putting spur to his horse's side he urged it into a gallop, pulling his bow off of his back as he did. Two sentries fell to a few arrows from Allyrion's men before they could raise the alarm but as they passed by those posts, they saw the entire army was already ready to march.

A light cavalry force would've turned away immediately and raced off, but horse archers had the advantage of both speed and the ability to keep their distance thanks to their horse bows. Those bows were not as powerful as long bows, but they fired far faster. And the horse archers could move, even retreat, while still firing at the enemy.

Around him men began to fall out of their saddle here and there from defensive fire, but Allyrion noticed it was quite light in comparison to what he had feared. Evidently the Baratheon army didn't have much archers for its size. A second later however, Allyrion saw what the enemy's response to his probe was, and raised a long whistle to his lips, blowing on it four times in quick succession.

In response his men began to peel off in orderly groups moving sharply away from a force of heavy cavalry that had charged from the Baratheon army's lines towards them. Arrows flew from their bows, impacting among the heavy cavalry, but every man among the Dornish force knew not to aim for the knights themselves, but for the horses. Even those horses which had armor had to keep their legs free to run, making them vulnerable. And that armor was never as thick as the armor that the knights themselves could wear.

Hundreds of horses went down, while Allyrion's men wheeled away only to nearly run smack dab into another force of light cavalry that had circled around from the back of Stannis' army try to catch them in a pincer with the first. Neglecting his whistle Allyrion bellowed "Full retreat, straight north!"

His men obeyed with alacrity, pulling on their reins and turning their horses around so hard many of the horses nearly lost their footing. But still more than a few of them were caught in close quarters with the light cavalry. Even so their arrows and the arrows of the retreating men still fired, sending dozens of men crashing to the Earth. Among the light Calvary they didn't have to bother aiming for the horses.

Another force of light cavalry, about, a thousand strong joined the chase quickly. At the same time the first force of heavy cavalry that had tried to chase them down, more to grab their attention than anything else, wheeled back to their fellows.

Stannis nodded grimly from where he sat astride his own warhorse. "Excellent. The light cavalry will continue to screen our northern flank, along with the cavalry under Lord Staedmon, who will be in total command of that part of the action."

He looked across at his horse's head at Mace. "You and your echelon will advance directly against the Stargaryen lines, but you are not to be bogged down attacking them head on. I don't trust how simple the defenses facing us look. Ranma is a devious character, he no doubt has something ready. I want your cavalry to swing around them, see if you can find any openings, while your infantry attacks the front at range. There must be some opening or else they wouldn't be able to sortie either. If you see any unit out in the open however, feel free to attack it, whatever it's allegiance."

Mace nodded eagerly, his face cold and angry. Despite the battle going on last night, far too many of his lords had begun to question his leadership. The news of Loras' death, the fact his own children were rebelling against his choices, had acted like a rock from a trebuchet on the foundations of his power. More than one had voiced a desire to pull out, not wishing to back Stannis or Mace any longer, especially now that there seemed an alternative Lord Paramount back home.

In the end it wasn't Mace who kept them from doing so, but the fear of Melisandre and her magic. Even so, more than one lord was thinking of pulling out regardless, and Mace knew he needed to prove himself on the field of battle to shore up his authority. In the long run he'd still have to deal with his children in some fashion, but defeating the Starks would take away any hint of legitimacy from Margaery's actions, making that task much simpler.

Of course Stannis knew this, and had taken steps to make certain that key Reach lords knew they would gain more to continue to follow him, regardless of their opinion of Mace. Turning his head slightly Stannis turned to look at one such, Lord Ambrose, who was, not coincidentally, the second-in-command of Mace's echelon. Lord Ambrose nodded slightly, understanding it would be his job to keep Mace from becoming too engaged in the battle.

A moment later some 8000 men marched out from the rest of the army. The echelon was composed of slightly under 6000 cavalry and 2000 mixed infantry and archers. Watching them go Stannis nodded grimly before turning to his remaining lords. "Lord Buckler, you will take command of the third echelon, which will follow my own force southwest. Leave a few thousand more light cavalry behind to aid Lord Staedmon in protecting the camp and our backs, but your primary task will be to follow my own echelon and prepare to exploit any weakness in the Golden Company, or, if Mace finds a weakness in the Stark earthworks, to move in support of him."

"My Lord, why are we not concentrating on the most dangerous foe?" Asked Lord Buckler.

"Because doing so would leave us vulnerable to the weaker two. The Dornish are no threat in a pitched battle, we have more light cavalry than they do horse archers, and their infantry is nothing to fear, certainly not enough to stop a charge from the Reach cavalry."

Who will do the dying before my more loyal Stormlanders, he thought grimly. And if a few of their lords die in particular those lords who are chafing under Mace now and are leery of me, all the better.

"But the Golden Company is a major threat in any kind of battle. Their elephants can wreak havoc if used well, and their discipline makes their spear phalanxes a threat to any cavalry or infantry unit. That's why we need to attack from their flank, while they are busy attacking the Northerners, weakening them in turn."

"Why do you think they will attack the Northerners?" Melisandre asked tartly from where she was standing nearby, waiting to bid the army farewell. She was not in the best of moods, still feeling weak from the effects of whatever had been in the incense that the Faceless Man had used on her last night, though it had not affected her magical abilities, which would allow her to offset any of the dragons if they attacked.

She was not going with Stannis for both those reasons, instead staying behind in the army camp. Five-hundred Fire Guard stayed behind to protect her, while Staedmon saw to the defense of the camp and the army's flank.

"The dragons," Stannis replied. "You saw the Stormborn yesterday, she was able to command the other two, if only for a brief amount of time. Viserys and Aegon will see that as the most major threat, regardless of the military aspects. Their ego will be their undoing. I will push at their flanks while the Golden Company pushes at the Starks then they'll be pinned between us, but if we do this well, and if the elephants are committed against the Starks, it will be them who take the most casualties."

With the tactics of the current battle explained to his satisfaction Stannis smiled grimly at her, before riding without another word, his bannermen following him.

OOOOOOO

Lord Ladybright led his unit towards the side of the Northern/Riverlands triangle facing their army with some trepidation. Yes they didn't look to be finished on this flank, but those forts anchoring the triangle's corners certainly were. And there were some ditches that too from the looks of things, which would funnel his men into what he was certain were prepared defensive positions.

However, he was a horse archer, and had been trained as such since he was young. He firmly believed that their speed, range and maneuverability, could overcome any opponent. So he charged with the rest of his men, coming up out of a small bump in the land charging towards the northern lines, losing their arrows as they came.

Most of those arrows fell at first on the barricades, then they began to smack into the side of the forts or even the roofs, doing nothing. They raced on, and Lord Ladybright gestured to one of his men. "They don't seem to be awake yet, let's circle around them to the west, I want to take back as much information on their earthworks as I can."

He wheeled away now, following the line of trenches, losing arrows as they went. As the majority of horse archers turned however, a voice from one of the forts bellowed "Loose!" like the voice of the Warrior come to life.

From all along the bulwarks and the fortress they were moving toward came a hail of deadly arrow fire from the fortress, smashing into them from what was almost point-blank range for the Northern longbows among those archers. Dozens, hundreds of men were plucked from the saddle, and several dozen horses went down under the hail of those merciless broad heads, horse archers not having the armor to stop them.

Lord Ladybright flinched as his banner bearer fell with an arrow in his neck, which passed all the way through, showering his tabard with blood. Another man quickly reached over grabbing the banner. "Retreat, wheel and fall back!"

Despite the severity, and the oddly controlled manner of the enemies response, Ladybright wasn't unhappy with the way the battle was going save for the death of his banner bearer, a cousin of his. Still, if they come out after us, we can pare them down in turn, and if they don't we'll just wheel back in and attack elsewhere.

But when they began to turn away they heard a sound that none of them had ever heard before last night. Only this time, it wasn't far away, it was up close and personal. "AROOOOOO!"

It was howl, but it was unlike any desert wolf Ladybright had ever heard. Those were short, sharp barks in the night, and could be disconcerting to horses and men alike if close. But this one, this struck all of them with a fear that went straight to their bones.

Ladybright's men lost control of their horses which all whinnied in panic, bucking and rearing tossing men to the ground all around. As one the horses turned to try and race away from that horrifying sound, much like the Reach and Stormlands horses had responded to in Stannis' attempted ambush.

"The sun of winter!" Rickard shouted, leading a column of light cavalry out through the three pathways that had been left open in the segment of the defensive triangle facing north. They fell upon the Dornishmen, killing dozens in the next few moments.

Only a few of the Dornishmen, Lord Ladybright among them, were good enough horsemen to have retained their saddle. They raced off back and away from the direwolf who was loping along behind Rickard's horse.

Yet Viserys had already set the Vale portion of his army in motion, with the rest following quickly, and he was not in a position to change his attack plans, even if he had wanted to. Because above the front ranks of Viserys came him and Balerion.

Back in the northern camp Ranma stared down at Daenerys. "Get in the air my love, your opposite numbers are coming."

Daenerys nodded grimly, leaning forward in her saddle on Sunfyre's back, whispering into the dragons ear. "Climb the sky." At the same time she reached out, opening that door between the their minds and began to give orders to Rhaegon. At her command Rhaegon sprang into the air flapping heavily growling irritably as he began to ascend straight up rather than in a spiral as was a dragons natural mode.

Under Daenerys, Sunfyre moved into a spiral quickly, ascending faster but going around in a spiral that soon carried them over the lines of the army below and out into the areas between the four opposing armies.

This brought her close to where columns of cavalry were appearing to the naked eye. But Melisandre didn't seem to be with them, or if she was there was no feeling of her magic trying to reach out as it had last night. Daenerys breathed a sigh of relief, affectionately rubbing Sunfyre's neck for a moment before turning back to business.

Soon after she had reached the height that she wanted Sunfyre at, with Rhaegon still trying to gain altitude above the northern camp. With a thought and a small tug on the reins, which Daenerys used more as a handhold than to direct her dragons, she sent Sunfyre towards the Dornish army.

Behind her Ranma leaped down from his position on the tower, landing neatly as Rickard came up leading his force back into the camp. His sword and lances were but both bloody, and one of his legs was bleeding slightly from a nick there, but he held his head high. "We routed them Ranma, I don't think there is more than a dozen left heading back to their camp."

"Well done uncle." said Ranma smiling grimly. He looked at both him and Greatjon. "The Reach forces are coming. Frankly I bet Stannis is going to sit on the defensive with most of his men, large scale probing attacks maybe but not his full force. I don't think they'll be stupid enough to charge our frontline, but if they are you know the surprises we've set up there."

Both men smirked evilly at him and he nodded. "You're in charge here, keep the defenses up keep the lines defended and the arrows flying. If you see a chance to sortie against the Dornish take it, but don't get bogged down beyond our own lines, and keep one eye on the sky just in case."

"Go ahead lad." Greatjon said clapping Ranma on the shoulder. "Spring your trap, and we'll still hold here."

To one side Smalljon stood nodding his head grimly. He was now wearing an eyepatch over his mangled eye but even injured he was still game, and would be in charge of the camp's emergency reserves. Dacey, and Daryn commanded the three forts, something they could do despite their injuries.

Myrcella had forbidden Roger to move, the wounds to his leg being so bad he was in danger of crippling himself if he walked on it for a time. His wife Osha however sat on a horse beside Smalljon, with Roger's sword Roan in its sheathe at her side. Her eyes were ablaze, and she was eager to get stuck in herself, having been sidelined the evening before.

"I'll get right to that big man, just make sure you're all here when I get back." Ranma laughed, before racing off through the camp towards the back most point of the triangle.

He smiled at the shouts and cries of "Stark!" all around. Despite knowing that battle was at hand most of the men were upbeat about their chances, and greeted him heartily as he raced through before he leaped over the small parapet and ditch near the westernmost point of the triangle. Landing Ranma raced on, and even as the people behind him watched he sped up, racing out of sight.

OOOOOOO

Mace laughed delightedly, his banner crackling in the breeze over the head of his banner bearer. This was what it meant to go to war, riding forth to slay one's enemies gloriously in open combat! No political maneuverings like his grandmother so loved, none of the back room dealings that had so fascinated Margaery. No tactics or the need to remember about supplies or strategy that everyone always harped.

No, what mattered was the charge, bringing enough men to the fight to win it, presenting a martial attitude that could overawe your enemies. And with the might of the Reach behind him, Mace knew that he presented such an image. He pointed ahead with his lance, shouting laughing. "Look at them, they cower behind their fortifications, not even daring to challenge us!"

To his left Lord Ambrose rolled his eyes. Of course they aren't going to come out to challenge us, they don't have the cavalry to do so. And if they stay behind those defenses, they can shoot us full of arrows, Stannis is right, that line of defenses worries me. "Should we move left or right?"

Mace growled, wanting nothing more than to rush in right ahead and get involved with the cowards hiding behind their pathetic earthworks. But mindful of Stannis' orders he thought for a moment. "Send a few hundred horse straight at the line. If Stannis is right, they'll run into whatever trap is there and spring it so we know it's there. But the rest of us will skirt around it to the north!"

OOOOOOO

At the same time that Mace was beginning his assault the dragons were pushing for altitude, that most important aspect of any aerial duel. The vanguard of the Dornish army had also appeared on the field, marching towards the Stargaryen encampment. Or at least the levy forces and the infantry of the Vale were.

Viserys had pushed out another thousand horse archers to his western flanks to bolster the assault force there, which had fallen back, but he was also keeping a set distance between the Dornish horse, what little infantry they had and the Vale forces in an effort to keep them back until the others had forced a crack in their enemies defenses.

A fact that Lord Grafton was well aware of as he led his men forward. They were only supposed to probe the defenses of the Stark's army, but even that was a chancy business. But those Stranger-damned Dornish lords will sit back there until we have. Worse, we're not leading off with our real assault troops save my own trained armsmen. Not the southern pikes, but the Gulltown levees. That's amateur warfare! Why did I ever follow Petyr anyway?!

Of course Lord Grafton knew why. Petyr held two strings over his head. One was the fact that Lord Grafton and his family were deeply in debt to Petyr to the tune of some 700,000 dragons. And second, Petyr's knowledge of certain discrepancies in the bookkeeping of Gulltown. Lord Grafton personally also knew that Petyr knew and had proof about some of his own personal indiscretions, in particular a certain married lady who he had slept with some years back. If the lord in question learned of it, Grafton was doomed.

And of course there's Balerion and Viserys and his entire force to think of Lord Grafton thought sardonically as he marched along with his men. His horse had fallen lame a few days ago, nearly killing Grafton in the process when he was flung from the saddle. Just as Grafton had thought that he and his men had survived the attacks on the foraging parties, only for him to nearly die because of a small foxhole in the path his horse had missed.

In front of him a few of the horse archers that had been supposed to find of the weaknesses of the northern line for him and his men pulled up. Lord Ladybright stared at him, his face looking a little shocky. "I lost most of my men to the arrows from that line, but the Northerners seem mostly content to remain on the defensive, they only sortied with a small force of light cavalry and that blaster monster of a wolf! If you can keep their archers attention on you, Balerion might just win us this fight!"

Lord Grafton nodded grimly, and both men turned their heads upwards to stare up into the sky were two dragons were circling one another.

OOOOOOO

Daenerys stared over the raised head and neck of Sunfyre towards Balerion and Viserys, who was charging straight at her through the air. It was larger and also more powerful than either of her own, and its wings beat easily pushing it along a straight course. She tried to reach forward again to touch the other dragon's mind, only to be thrown out quickly. Balerion was now deep into battle madness, what little seed of sanity he retained gone for now.

Yet even so she was able to get an inkling of its desires, and an inkling of his next action. Quickly she acted, ordering Sunfyre both mentally and aloud, as well as pulling lightly at the reins. "Dodge down and to the right! Fire incoming!"

A long tongue of flame shot out from Balerion's open mouth, passing through the area where Sunfyre had just been flying. In response Sunfyre roared his normally sunny disposition in abeyance now as his eyes began to tint to red his claws twitching and flames appearing at the back of his throat.

Daenerys sent another command, aiming the dragon's head around slightly trying to where Balerion would go. Gone was all her thoughts about not wanting to be a kinslayer, this was a battle to the death, and she could not afford any more thoughts along those lines.

At her command Sunfyre's own slightly smaller and far less powerful tongue of flame shot out, forcing Balerion to bank wildly to the right. It responded quickly, turning its head angrily and shooting out another fireball. Sunfyre dodged that too, but Balerion had continued his turn, and suddenly the two dragons found themselves almost within claw range.

Balerion lunged, his mouth gaping open trying to bite through Sunfyre's wing. But at Daenerys's mental command Sunfyre banked to the left again avoiding the bite. In response Sunfyre's back leg lashed out, along with its tail, while Sunfyre continued to corkscrew in place for a moment before righting himself.

Viserys squawked in agony when Sunfyre's tail smashed into his leg where it was squeezing Balerion's side and for a moment he thought the blow had shattered the bone. At the same time Balerion roared in pain as one forelimb was raked by Sunfyre's claws.

Even so the two of them turned quickly to follow Sunfyre who had continued his downward lunge. Now they were behind and above Sunfyre. In dragon on dragon combat, this was the kill zone. Daenerys turned her head to look back seeing her brother on Balerion's back now laughing wildly, staring at her. "You should never have turned against me sister, now you die!"

But to Viserys' surprise Daenerys simply smirked back and pointed over his shoulder.

Having been guided by Daenerys' mental commands Rhaegon had stayed well above the battle, not out of sight but out of mind for now. Then he had swooped down, using the higher altitude to gain speed as the flames in his belly began to churn. Then Rhaegon blew out a tongue of flame that was even larger than Balerion's.

Viserys looked behind him almost derisively only to seemed Rhaegon incoming, his mouth already open, and the flames appearing within. Desperately he sawed at the reins "Bank! Danger!"

That last second invasion saved man and dragon from immolation. Rhaegon's tongue of flame shot through the airspace that they had recently been flying through, close enough to sear Balerion's side, low enough that it missed the all-important wing on that side.

"SHhhsssssaaaaaa!" Balerion whistled in agony, thrashing in the air beating its wings desperately to stay in the air and moving away from the two enemy dragons who were now circling behind it.

Viserys yelled aloud in panic and fear, having just pulled his own leg out of the steer up on that side to avoid the limb being charbroiled but having lost much of his control on his mount doing so. "Back! Back to camp!" He ordered desperately pulling the dragon's head in that direction hoping that Daenerys would not follow. He had been outmaneuvered entirely here, and those two dragons were certainly not the pampered pets he had expected!

Flying low over the infantry that it already been forced forward towards the northern lines Viserys was pleased that the scattered archers below began to fire up into the air behind him, keeping his sister from following as she winged his way towards the army, Balerion snarling and crying aloud in agony from its wound. It was a wonder he hadn't flung Viserys from the saddle yet, but Viserys knew he had to get down to the ground before Balerion became too crazed from its wounds to do so.

OOOOOOO

Below the aerial combat Lord Grafton and Lord Ladybright stared aghast at their side's dragon retreating back to the rest of the army while the enemy dragons began to circle.

For a moment the men of the Vale men halted there around Grafton and their other commanderLord Moore, torn by indecision whether to attack and get mixed in with the Northerners quickly so that the dragons could not attack them, or turn back hoping that the added bows of the army behind them could turn the dragons away. Then they watched as the two dragons banked sharply southward, leaving them behind breathing heavy sighs of relief.

That moment of hesitation and their inattention to the noise of battle in the distance however doomed them. More than one man stared to their right and ahead, then paled, shouting aloud "Ware, prepare to receive!" But it was too late.

Because in the next moment Lord Mace and Lord Ambrose led their heavy cavalry units around the northern edge of the stark front lines, only to see the infantry stuck there for a moment not moving. Mace had lost some two hundred or so cavalrymen to the archers of the entrenched army and had yet to find any kind of break in the defenses. The four hundred or so heavy cavalry that had charged straight at the side of the triangle facing their assault directly had disappeared into heavy ditches.

Those ditches didn't seem to be lined with steaks or anything, but they too wide for any horse to leap, and far too deep for any horse to survive if they fell into it. Killing the men and horses that had fallen into that trap however had kept the archers of the forts and the front line from concentrating on the rest of the heavy cavalry under Mace as they skirted around it.

Mace laughed, his good humor coming back with a vengeance now that he saw a real target for his cavalry. Pointing his lance forward at the southern infantry he shouted "Charge!"

Before Grafton or the others could gather up their scattered wits enough to decide what to do, the heavy cavalry of the Reach was upon them. In disarray and with their leaders unable at this point to give out any commands the levy forces from Gulltown broke. They had been basically forced onto the ship at sword point and were only barely trained. They threw their weapons down and ran, racing westward and away, disrupting the lines of the better trained armsmen.

The heavy cavalry smashed into this disorganized force, killing and trampling with impunity every man that didn't have pikes able to hold them off. But even there, the pikemen were not heavily armored. Nor did their unit cohesion come anywhere close to matching that of the northern pike regiments. Here and there a man went down, opening up a hole which was exploited by more heavy cavalry following behind.

At the same time that was going on, Greatjon stared across the barricade at the Stormlands infantry of that was just beginning to pull up at the far edge of bow range. Fire arrows began to come out of that force impacting the forts anchoring his line, while his own archers began to fire back. He turned to Rickard nodding at him. "I think that Daryn and Dacey can handle things here, I'll take command of the southern line, you take command of the northern."

The other man nodded, and they both turned away. Rickard arrived on the southern diagonal to watch the battle, watching as the Reach cavalry began to split, portions of it reforming after its magnificent charge against Viserys' Vale infantry, moving once again to circle around the encampment. More archers from the westward most fortification began to fire on them, along with more archers on the line.

Here and there clumps of heavy cavalry charged the defenses mostly towards the obvious breaks in it, but in those breaks they ran into small units of pike. Taken from the 600 men that Lord Manderly had raised these men had not started out as well trained as the battle ax or stark regiments, but they had made up for lost time since.

Each break in the line was defended by 200 such men over an area where only fifty of them could fit in a line. Four rows of pike showed a front bristling with weapons that even the most insane (and most cavalry horses were bred to be somewhat insane or suicidal, horses after all are not predators) refused to face. The cavalry bunched up there, only to be continually raked by archers from behind the barricades or up on the nearest fort.

Behind them about eight hundred more heavy cavalry broke off entirely from the main battle, chasing down the levee units that had fled eastward. While Lord Ambrose and of another portion of the army was completely bogged down now in trying to get through what it appeared to be weaknesses in the defense, Mace disdained such. Instead he rallied his own men and more than half of the rest of the force he had initially led, continuing around the eastern point of the Stargaryen encampment.

OOOOOOO

Surprisingly Viserys was able to land Balerion safely, if barely. He leaped clear of the saddle as the dragon hit the ground, squalling and breathing gouts of fire in every direction. Viserys scrabbled away, shouting aloud "get some food for him!"

Quickly a few nearby soldiers raced in deeper into the Dornish camp, while every other soldier nearby backed away, staring at two men who hadn't been quick enough, their bodies burning as their screams began to fight Balerion's pained bellows to be heard.. Eventually Balerion subsided, turning its long serpentine neck to look at the burn marks along its flank.

A carcass of an ox was brought forward, 'and the dragon turned quickly at the smell. Leaning forward and grabbing it out of the hands of the four people who had been carrying it, Balerion dug into the still bloody carcass. With food keeping its attention for now Viserys and two other men snuck forward, clamping a heavy chain around its neck. Before Balerion could rear up and attack other men pulled the chain taught from the other end, forcing it back down.

Realizing he could still eat Balerion simply huffed, glared around before biting down voraciously. Other men moved forward clamping similar chains down onto its limbs. With that, and a rope tying Balerion's tail down in place, several dozen men who had been filling in as healers for the men and horses of the army moved forward. After making sure Balerion couldn't harm them, they quickly went to work on its side.

Viserys stared at Balerion's injury from a safe distance, his eyes wide, and his body trembling with anger and remembered terror. Those were not pampered pets, nor were those dragons moving separately, that, that was a prepared maneuver! How did Daenerys do it? Last night I was prepared to put her ability to command Balerion and that upstart's small freak down to her Targaryen blood, her personality and fearlessness. But this?Two dragons one without a rider working in concert in the air!? That's impossible! She truly is the most dangerous threat! If Daenerys can somehow control the second dragon without being in its saddle or even verbalizing her orders, she really might be able to do the same to Balerion! That is, if she's not able to just kill us!

His ever increasingly fearful thoughts were interrupted when Arianne moved towards him through the camp. "My king, I fear this battle is lost. We should retreat, husband our remaining strength for another day."

Viserys looked at her, his mind still more than a little shell-shocked. "I, but, but the infantry, the rest of the army, it, it's ready to march we…"

"The infantry have already been practically wiped out, we've lost everything we gained from going to Gulltown my King. They were so concerned about covering your retreat that they missed the Reach forces, they were caught in the open and unprepared by heavy cavalry." Arianne replied quickly staring out towards the southwest. "Remember, we must husband our forces! The Baratheons and the Starks have more men than we do, and I don't believe either of them have been bloodied as much as we have already. Let the two of them fight it out with the Golden Company without us for now."

"Very well. Viserys said, shaking his head. "Yet we can't retreat too far, I want us close enough to react if we see either of them taking enough losses to give us an advantage."

Jorah spoke up from where he had followed Arianne. "We'll need to stop at least the Baratheon army from sending men after us. "I saw a glimpse of the Golden Company moving into attack the Starks, but that leaves the Baratheons to come after us."

"They've already committed some of their cavalry, that's who destroyed our infantry my king, not your sister and her dragons." Arianne tried to keep any tone of recrimination out of her voice, having actually agreed with Viserys about how Daenerys would have ruined her two dragons through coddling them.

"Yes, those dragons thankfully won't be coming after us at least, they'll be busy dealing with the upstart dragonseed and his runt." Viserys said now finally regaining his mental equilibrium. "As to the Baratheon army, how many horse archers do we have left?"

"Around 3,600 him my Lord. Were already using the remainder' to screen our flank from the Stormlands-Reach Army, and you remember we sent off 1000 under my cousin to see if they could skirt wide around the Baratheon army and attack their camp.

That had actually been Elia's idea. Given the events last night, she hoped to finish the Witch off before she could once more use her powers. She hoped a direct assault on her would work..

"Good, send half of the remaining horse archers to back up those guarding our right flank. Then get some servants to coat a pig with sleeping spices, Balerion won't be able to refuse a pig even if he's gorging now.. The moment he's asleep, we'll begin to retreat."

Next to Arianne Nymeria nodded before running off to relay Viserys orders to his lords, though inside she was wondering if they should possibly ditch Balerion, and if he objected Viserys too. And up until she had seen Aegon the evening before, she would have pushed the other lords to do just that, whatever Arianne might think. But Aegon wasn't any better than Viserys, whatever her uncle Doran might have hoped, and Nymeria refused to change from backing one sadistic maniac for an idiotic boy with delusions of grandeur and a barbarian's feelings toward women.

Still if we pull back now before we're attacked, we are still a formed force, one that can inflict a decent amount of casualties if attacked. With that we might be able to sue for peace with whoever won the rest of this battle.

Nymeria had no illusions how this battle would go, whatever Viserys thought. The army under her father had not drawn enough of the Stormlands and Reach lords off, and even if they had she wasn't certain they could've matched the Northern and Riverlands army. No, we need to survive for now. Ambition can wait until later. Makes me very glad Arianne has been smart enough to drink moon tea on a daily basis. No child leaves no permanent connection between our houses if Viserys dies suddenly...

OOOOOOO

Aegon had taken longer than Viserys or Daenerys did to get Calixares into the air, having to coax him up and override his petulant mood that morning. Once they were in the air Aegon watched from a distance the battle between Sunfyre and Balerion for a moment as he wondered where to strike first. I wonder where are my aunt's other dragon is? Or can she only use one in battle at any given time? That makes sense I suppose. Regardless, I have to thank my uncle for taking her attention away from me.

Moments later Aegon was past the front of his own army moving forwards, aiming towards the Stark encampments southernmost fortification and the line of balustrades moving from it on a diagonal. "Attack my Dragon!" At that command Calixares roared, the roar turning into a gout of flame that shot down at the fort below.

Thanks to the roofs on top of the fort, none of the men inside could shoot straight up, and that was where Aegon began his assault. The wet mud and dirt that had been heaped up onto the roof saved the fortification from going up like a torch, but even so the blast began to cook the wood underneath the mud.

Aegon didn't spend much time on that fortification, moving on quickly, Calixares continuing to assault the defensive line with his flame. Yet at the same time, the archers below and behind them in the fort began to fire up at him. Calixares could not shoot his fire far enough to remain out of arrow range, unlike the larger dragons, and this cost him now. Arrows hit Calixares' underbelly bouncing off the scales there, but one ripped through the membrane of one wing.

This caused Calixares to squawk, beating his wings to ascend higher away from the northern lines. Even so a little under 900 men had already died under his assault. There were also little fires here and there along the line forcing other men away from it to begin efforts to put them out. And that first fort was still smoldering, the mud on it cracking and drying off from the heat of the fire.

Calixares cared nothing for that, simply panicked by the arrow punching through his wing. It almost threw Aegon off doing so but he clung to his , his legs tightened around its neck, while his hands jerked on the reins, urging Calixares up and to the right. "All right, so the Northerners aren't panicking as I hoped."

Almost immediately after they moved out of bow shot however, Aegon saw the Reach cavalry coming around the eastern tip of the Stark encampment's triangle, and grinned evilly. "If the Starks are such a tough target, then maybe we should go for a softer one Calixares." Aegon Pulled Calixares further around before forcing his head down to face directly towards the cavalry circling the Stark encampment. "Attack!"

Calixares roared, moving down and raking the cavalry with his fire while the cavalry tried to break and run. Dozens of banners fell, including the largest one which had been leading the charge and hundreds, thousands of men burned alive in their armor in those few moments.

Then Sunfyre and Rhaegon pounced from higher above him, their own bolts of fire almost bracketing the smaller dragon. A desperate dive towards the ground and a bank westwards saved it, but even so it's squawking and pain at his tail was caught by Rhaegon's attack, and one of its wing tips by Sunfyre's.

Daenerys stared at the smaller dragon as he tried desperately to get away from her little ones, racing southward ignoring the Golden Company for a moment as they marched into position to assault the Stark encampment. Now through panicked and facing two enemies that had the altitude advantage Calixares was simply trying to get away, trying to flee. No way can that moronic pretender control him now. In that case, I should do what I can, see if I can bring Calixares to our side.

Closing our eyes and trusting Sunfyre to fly safely her Daenerys concentrated, sending her mind outwards. But not along in the worn and well-known paths between her mind and those of little ones, but towards the very tenuous link she had created last night.

But Daenerys couldn't get through like she had the evening before. Calixares was panicking, fearful, scared and angry all of which interfered in his thoughts, which made him much harder for Daenerys to influence.

Worse, Calixares wasn't as intelligent as her own little ones, and the one time she got through and tried to reason with him failed. It occurred to Daenerys that more than a years' worth of warging with her little ones had affected their intelligence. Certainly Fenris and the other direwolves were much more intelligent than normal animals. I can't reason with him, I have to force my way into Calixares' mindand I can't do it when he's so terrified!

Just then Calixares turned its head sharply around still flying straight but with its head facing almost backwards. With a desperate roar Calixares aimed past his rider's shoulder and head, trying to his Rhaegon with a blast of fire.

"By the Seven!" Aegon yelped loudly, diving down and hugging the dragon's neck for a moment to get out of the way of the blast, while Rhaegon twisted aside, snarling angrily. Even so Calixares kept retreating, unable to get away from Sunfyre even as Rhaegon fell back slightly before reclaiming his position above the other Dragon.

Aegon shivered a little at the nearness of that escape, smacking Calixares on his neck angrily, speaking aloud in common rather than Valyrian such was his fear-induced anger. "Don't do that! You nearly killed me!" Aegon had never tested his ability to withstand fire, Griff had never allowed him to, saying that had simply been a tall tales perpetrated by the Targaryens, and he was in no hurry to see if it was true now.

But his dragon wasn't listening to him whatever language he used. Calixares was in full flight now, simply trying to get away from his tormentors, scanning the forest below them for a place he could hide.

Just then he Aegon saw something, a hidden dell between two medium-sized hills about fiveleagues away from the battle behind it wasn't the small forest in the dell that startled him. No, that was the army that was marching out of it as he watched. Their banners marked him out as house Stark and its allies.

"What, what, in the… There have to be thousands of men down there, why aren't they with the rest of their army?" As he watched those men began to march out of the forest, heading somewhat south. "They're going to attack the Golden Company from the side!"

That was as far as Aegon's thoughts went before a blur shot up from the army, climbing one of the trees and leaping into the air directly below him and his Dragon. A reflexive pull on the reins as someone shouted "Dodge away Daenerys!" saved Aegon's life at least for the moment. Something, unseen slashed through the air where he had just been as that same voice, which Aegon suddenly recognized as Ranma Stark's shouted "Direwolf's Claw!"

Ranma had aimed to cut off Calixares' head and possibly the rider behind him, Ranma obviously hadn't tested this technique on magical creatures like dragons, so didn't know if they had some kind of immunity to an attack like the vorpal blades of the Kijin Raishin Dan, though he doubted it. This guess was proven correct, though he didn't actually hit the target he aimed at. Instead, the ki-based technique ripped through one of Calixares' wing, cutting it into pieces in a welter of blood, bone and sinew from the shoulder to the tip.

"GYAARRHHHHHHAAHAHHH!" Calixares screamed in pure agony, falling to the side immediately as its ability to stay in the air ended abruptly. And they were selling near the ground in any event that they slammed almost immediately into trees, crashing through them like a boulder from catapult but this catapults boulder wasn't a rock, no it was flesh and blood.

Aegon didn't even have time to shout in astonishment at what had occurred before he began to scream in pain, bits and pieces of the trees Calixares smashing as it fell smacking into him in turn. One tree limb caught him right in the neck breaking his neck and thankfully ending Aegon's life relatively quickly while Calixares continued his screaming descent toward the ground.

Ranma grimaced as the feeling of weariness hit him from using that technique again, but he landed easily enough on the ground waving up at Daenerys and her 'little ones' who were now circling above. He turned quickly shouting behind him at the army slowly moving out of the tree line. "Get a move on double time it, that dragon might start spewing out fire any moment, we can't get caught in the woods if they go up!"

Above him and Daenerys and the two dragons circled, as Daenerys leaned over Sunfyre's side shouting down "Balerion's turned aside and retreated! Do you want me to attack their army?"

Ranma shouted up at her while the army moved past quickly under Jason and Patrick's orders, their shouts encouraging the man to doubletime it. "No, remember we said we can't be seen using your dragon's too often on humans, and besides they probably still have too many archers for me to be happy with you putting yourself in harm's way like that. Just return to camp, but keep one of your dragons in the air to watch the battle!"

Her hair whipping in the air around her face Daenerys nodded. "I will! , Just make sure you return in to me one piece!" She would have said her and Merry of course, but in public like this that was impossible.

"I will." Ranma laughed then started off into the woods while the stragglers of the army raced past him. They slowed down considerably the moment they were out of the woods, after all pikemen weren't exactly sprinters, nor was the irregular infantry given the equipment Ranma had ordered them to carry and train with over the past few weeks. But they were all out of the woods, that was the important thing right now. He waved his hands at Jason who had moved back to him as the irregular infantry began to form up on either side of the pike regiments. "I'll join you in a bit, I'm just going to make sure that dragons dead."

Jason nodded, reaching over to grip Ranma's shoulder. "Be careful, we still need you alive, and a wounded animal is a dangerous one." Ranma nodded grimly at the older man before racing off.

He moved through the woods warily, moving from one tree to another listening for anything moving. All he heard was a low moan, a groaning peal of agony echoing through the trees. Soon he came upon where Calixares had crashed. The dragon was obviously dying, bleeding copiously from the stump where it's wing had originally been. Several bits and pieces of wood were also sticking into his body, the most prominent of which was a massive splinter from a tree which would've done well as the weapon of a scorpion. It had slammed into and through one of its back legs deep into its main body right by the pelvis.

Nearby Ranma saw Aegon, flung from the saddle at some point during the dragon's crash, his neck at an unnatural angle and his body perforated by several splinters. Ranma knelt down, closing the youth's eyes and shaking his head. "Poor fool,you were fed on lies your entire life and then used by the Connington, Varys, the Iron bank or both. You were just their weapon, just their tool. If only you hadn't invaded, if only you had been willing to stay away, or at least not assaulted the houses of Massey's Hook, you might still be alive."

He looked over at the dragon, moving behind its head, where it was weaving side to side, the pain of its wounds too much to let it do anything but groan in in agony. Before Calixares could see him, Ranma rammed Ice into the back of its head, putting it out of its his blade out Ranma cleaned Ice on the grass nearby shaking his head sadly. "And you were just a weapon too, just a tool."

With a final sad shake of his head Ranma closed Calixares' eyes patting the dragon's head once before turning and racing off to rejoin his army. He had a war to win.

OOOOOOO

Back at the main battle, no one had really noticed or cared about the bit of drama going on well to the west. The Reach cavalry under Lord Tyrell had been slaughtered, horses and men burned alive regardless of their armor. But the rest of that initial cavalry force was still assaulting the northern side of the encampment, probing here and there while the force that had been assaulting the western line had retreated, coming around in support.

At the same time, Calixares had created a bit of a weakness in the southernmost flank of the Stark encampment. And the Golden Company moved forward to take advantage of this.

Now Harry Strickland led the elephants force along with the first two companies of the Golden Company forward, the elephants leading the way. The men on top of those elephants in their protected forts began to fire at their fellows in the Stark's fort, unable to win any kind of force superiority for now. However the elephants kept on going, ignoring the pinpricks on their own armor staring through the extremely expensive chain mail that was covering their bodies at the line of earthworks that was their target.

The first few elephants reached the line, smashing through the dirt mounds and the men behind them, while the archers from on high fired down into the men under Greatjon, who had pulled back most of his men rapidly. There had been a few ditches on the southern flank however. The elephants had found them stepping on the wood covering them so hard that it broke, forcing the elephants to back away bleating angrily before moving under their rider's directions to join their fellows.

But then the elephants were met with something they had never seen before. Fenris leapt towards them, landing on the side of one elephant and ripping at its chainmail with his blue-gold covered fangs and claws. The elephant trumpeted, standing on its hind legs and trying to get away from this monstrous predator. The men inside it's covered fort shouted as many of them fell out the side, others hanging on for dear life.

The elephant tried to turn its head and grasp its attacker with its trunk, but Fenris ducked aside, leaving a long slash down its length. Then Fenris found and found one unprotected place right behind the elephant's head where the driver had previously been sitting. The direwolf bit down there, sinking his fangs deep into the elephant's neck, seeking it's spine.

The elephant bellowed in panic, turning and trying to fling the attacker off. But even now it was beginning to lose energy, its lifeblood spurting out from its wounds, and then it fell, spine severed directly behind its neck.

There was a tremendous booming thump as the elephant's carcass slammed into the ground while Fenris grimly held on. A moment after it landed Fenris pulled back licking at his bloodied fangs and howling in victory. "AWOOOOO!" Then it looked at the other pachyderms, snarling, his bloodied fangs bared as he moved over the carcass ignoring the men that had ridden the elephant all of whom were now dead by the swords of the defenders or falling off their animal.

The elephants panicked. They had of course dealt with wolves, or at least their ancestors had. But it was a very foolish wolf who would attack an elephant let alone a herd. But this, this was something else. This was a wolf larger than any ever seen, and it already proven that it could get through their human made armor, which all of the elephants had learned protected them from practically anything.

With a monstrous bellowing they stampeded back the way they came crushing and killing anyone in their wake. Even the people in the small fortifications on their backs weren't safe. At the speed the elephants were going the howdahs were being shaken apart, but more importantly were listing from side to side. More than one of them fell entirely to one side or the other as the elephants raced on, dragging them along before the straps meant to hold them in place tore apart.

Fenris howled again and went after them. Several hundred of the Northerners all around him roared in turn. "The Starks, the Starks, the wolves of the North!" And went to follow him.

But that wasn't the plan right now, and Greatjon knew it. "Back into position! The first man that leaves his place on the barricade will get my greatsword up his ass!" At that threat more than one man paused, battle lust giving away to confusion or humor, and more than one man bellowed ribald replies. Yet they also all returned to their place on the mud and wood barricades.

Greatjon knew that they couldn't afford to charge out into even the first few columns of the Golden Company messed up as they were. And he was right. The Golden Company reforming quickly from the damage the stampeding elephants had done to it, the front ranks coming together once more behind the stampede while the ranks in front of the stampede opened up to allow it through. Seeing this even Fenris pulled back, retreating back into the camp.

That coordination is something else! Their total strategy might now be shot to hell, but each individual commander over there knows what they're doing.

Above him, Sunfyre and Rhaegon were returning, landing neatly in the center of the camp. Greatjon was tempted to pull back for a moment to go and talk to her, but before he could, Sunfyre was moving into one of the tents, and Rhaegon was leaping into the air again. He watched as Daenerys raced through the camp, running despite her lizard lion armor, until she was directly next to him. "Well done Greatjon. I'm sorry I couldn't stop that dragonseed's assault on your lines before this, but I had to concentrate on Balerion."

"No worries lassie." Greatjon rumbled, turning from her to watch the Golden Company attempting to reform, pulling what few units had come forward back out of bow. His normal low esteem for social niceties was even lower now that they were in a battle, but he smiled internally when Daenerys once again didn't seem to care. Now this is a real queen, one who doesn't need all that bowing and scarping crap. "Shit happens in battles, and ones like this even more so."

"I've sent Rhaegon up so I can use his eyes." Daenerys went on, uncaring that she was sharing the fact she could warg with her little ones with Greatjon, who had never actually been fully brought into the confidence of the Wolfsworn on that point about her, or about the Starks and their direwolves. As she expected however the Umber lord didn't even blink. "With that we can see what's going on elsewhere. I think my brother's army is done, and the Golden Company has lost its puppet, but frankly, given our stance on mercenaries, which they know after yesterday, they'll choose to continue to fight anyway."

Greatjon grunted and the two of them fell silent, watching, waiting.

OOOOOOO

It wasn't only the elephants stampeding, or even Aegon's death that had caused the Golden Company's total battle plan to come apart however. It had taken a few hours, but Stannis and his army had at last overwhelmed the skirmishers of the Company of the Rose and the Second Sons. The survivors were in complete disarray as they fell back to the Golden Company's reserves.

Two companies of 1000 men each formed up along with half the company's archer unit, waiting for Stannis' charge. The rest of the Golden Company had fully reformed now, and Franklyn Flowers had taken overall command.

The spear companies hadn't taken many casualties yet. The Elephants had done more damage to the horse units directly behind them than the spear phalanx, which had time to react to the charge. Now they finished forming up, but Franklyn was debating with Tristan Rivers on if they should continue to attack the Stark encampment or turn and reinforce their fellows against Stannis' assault.

But before any decision could be reached, the fangs of the direwolf struck again this time from the west. Jason, Patrek and Ranma came marching into view from the trees several leagues distant, well westward of where their camp had been. With them came the Tully and Stark Pike Regiments, along with two thousand irregular infantry.

By the time they reached the Golden Company's advancing column, it had turned to face them. Say what you would about the mercenaries overall strategy, or its command of the total battle, but every unit commander knew what they had to do and worked well together. Seeing the spear phalanx facing him Ranma almost felt admiration for that, for their courage and coordination. But then he remembered what these men were, and his lips formed into a snarl. "Charge!"

With the pikes now up right as the pikemen behind him marched forward the irregular infantry charged with Ranma. Yet in their hands they did not carry swords or axes or anything of that nature, no they carried the surprise Ranma had ordered made all those months ago in Seagard, two to a man save for Ranma who carried five. They were long throwing spears, with their shanks, which had a hard pyramidal point and were about 24 inches long, was made of soft iron rather than steel.

In another world these would've been called pilum. Here they were simply strange throwing spears. Very few among the men issued them understood the point of them, though Rickard and Greatjon had, as had Jason. They understood that if used well enough, they could aid in opening up a spear phalanx or any other formation.

Ranma was the first to hurl his forward. He hurled it forward with such strength that it slammed into a man's shield, going through it and into the man himself. He fell screaming, but this place was quickly taken by another man, as the Golden Company began to charge forward as well.

Many of the commanders understood the overall situation, and knew they were now caught between two opposing forces. But even so they were confident. The Golden Company's tradition of unit cohesion, its organization and coordination had always proven beyond practically any enemy. And indeed against Stannis' force that was proving the case. The Reach cavalry under Stannis charged but fell back broken and bleeding.

Against Ranma's group however things began to go differently the moment the rest of the regular infantry was within throwing range. Their pilum were hurled as one at Ranma's bellowed, "Loose!" Fully 2000 spears were hurled in that brief moment, then again as the line of irregular infantry continued to charge forward.

Those pilum however didn't penetrate as Ranma had. Instead they penetrated the shields, then the pig iron warped, the spear shaft and the iron stuck into the hole into the shields of the men of the spear phalanx. Each of those spears weighed those large shields down further, pulling them out of position and wearing the men who were behind him down.

Seeing this Ranma grinned slowly skidding to a halt. "Now lads, split and retreat!" This maneuver was why he was with this portion of the army at all. He had drilled his men in difficult maneuvers like this, but this was the first time that they were under fire as they were doing it. Archers had claimed dozens of lives already as they charged forward, and it was going to be tough to pull his men back from completing the charge, the act going against all their previous understanding of warfare.

About fifty yards away from where they would've impacted the Golden companies spears as they came forward his men split, fading to either side of the center of his charge, moving backwards and away quickly. Ranma lost even more men, arrows impacting their backs and sides as they turned, but soon after he gave that command all of his irregular infantry were out of the way of the Stark Pike as they charged forward.

"Winter is coming!"

"The King! The true King and queen of Westeros!"

Some of the pikemen even shouted the chosen words of the new royal house. "Honor Above All!"

They were answered by the warcries of the Golden Company. "Beneath the gold, the Bitter steel!"

"Gold above the Gods!"

"Gold is our word!"

Such were their cries as pike met spear on that battlefield. Two organized, disciplined and coordinated units which prized working together over individual prowess, smashing into one another with death or victory in the balance.

On the one side roughly 4000 pikemen, 2000 from House Stark and 2000 from House Tully along a front of only 500. House Stark's pike held that front with its full 2000 complement, while behind them the Tully regiment continued to march forward adding their weight to the press. Their pikes were upright for now while they waited for when they had to bring them down to defend the flanks.

On the other side was a little over 6000 spearmen. The Golden Company's cavalry had died, trampled or broken by the elephant's madness or gripped by the same. But the spearmen had reformed, their discipline unwavering. Each spearman held a spear of oak, longer than a horsemen's lance but not as long as a pike. They also held shields, and were decently armored though not nearly up to the standards of the pikemen.

If either of these forces had been on the defensive, either one could've broken the other. After all, the tactics of both spears and pikes lent themselves to defensive formations. But this was not defense against offense. This was offense against offense, the Golden Company having charged towards the Northerners intent on breaking their mobile force before turning to aid their fellows against Stannis.

The pilum had also muddied the waters a bit. The shields of the spearmen in the front few rows were now heavily denuded with pilum, the weight of which was pulling them out of position. And the pikes had both greater range and greater depth along their front, which proved decisive.

To get to a pikemen, a spearman had to block his enemy's pike bearing it down to the ground or up above his head and continue forward. But in an organized pike charge you would have to deal with another pike head almost immediately. Get past that, and the third would find you. It was only after you got past the third row of pike that your own spear would be able to range on your enemy's body.

None of the Golden Company's commanders had ever dealt with a pike formation that was this densely packed, this well drilled and trained. Pikes were of course used in warfare elsewhere, but not like this, not as organized as this. The tightness of the pike regiment's lines were unlike anything they had dealt with before, and their armor was better as well.

Here and their men were able to break through that third line of pike, stabbing forward viciously with their spears but more often than not their spears simply didn't have the penetrating power at that far a range, they'd have to get a step or two closer to get more thrusting power behind their spears to get through the plate armor that the pikemen wore. And more often than not, those men died before they could take that step.

At the front of the first line of pike Patrek stood with the Stark, shouting encouragement. "All right men, this is what you've been trained for! Raise those pikes high and get it stuck in!"

With that he thrust his pike forward again, watching it smash into a enemy's shield, watching it bear the shield to the side, allowing another man's pike into stab. That man went down, and more spearmen took their place and more besides. Men began to go down around him, but far more of the enemy were going down. "We're winning this, men! We're winning this!"

He was answered with a roar, the words that Ranma and Daenerys had decided would be the motto of their house now being taken up by every voice not just a few. "Honor Above All!"

A spear caught Patrek along the side of the face, ripping open his helmet there and causing a gash to appear along his cheek, but his pike took another Golden Company man in the throat, his tip cutting into his throat hard enough to almost penetrate to his spine. Two more men fell, but others took their place.

It was a grinding, deadly affair, but the pilum had done its job, weakening the shield wall of the spear phalanx enough for the pikes to get in those first kills, opening up the spear phalanx further. Someone on the other side realized this, and drums began to boom calling for the retreat.

The spear phalanx gave ground now, stopping its charge and pulling back. But the pikes continued to press forward, and here and there the Golden Company's men began to die in clumps.

Behind the pike regiments Ranma and Jason had reformed the irregular infantry. "You take command here Jason," Ranma ordered, gesturing to the pikes. "I'm going to take these men and flank left."

Lord Mallister nodded grimly, hoping that his son was still alive at the front of the pike regiments. But before he could answer aloud Ranma was already gone, marching off to the left and around the current battle slightly. Jason sighed watching him go with a faint smile, then ordered the Tully regiment to spread their men out to defend the flanks of the Stark pike while they continued to batter their way through the spear phalanx of the Golden Company.

OOOOOOO

That same spear phalanx was performing far better against Stannis' Army than it was against the pike. Barely 2000 Spearmen were holding at bay something like seven or eight times their number in infantry, the forces swirling together and smashing into the spear line again and again.

Where elsewhere it had been the Reach cavalry that had taken the brunt of the battle, here it was the Stormlands infantry. Knowing that cavalry would've been next to useless against the spear phalanx, Stannis had reformed his army, taking Lord Buckler and the other Stormlands men from the second echelon adding them into his own. Then he sent in the majority of his remaining infantry to tie up the reserves of the Golden Company, while he kept the remainder of his cavalry and the Fire Guard in reserve in two different units, with the second under the command of Lord Cordwayner.

There was no comparison whatsoever in terms of training, armor or weaponry between of the Reach infantry and the Stormlands infantry, yet even so, they were not having much success in breaking the Golden Company's line. They simply lacked the ability to reach the spearmen, and when they could break through the spear lines, found themselves most of the time alone and without any backup against the line of shields, which turned most of their weapons away.

Knowing this would probably be the case, Stannis had kept back his archers, now sitting in all of them at once to hammer at one specific area of the Golden Company's line. Yet for a time it seemed as if this ruse would fail. While the Golden Company did not have many archers, their numbers making up a bare thousand or so of the total 10,000 plus strength that the company was supposed to have under arms, all of them were trained to a very high degree.

Moreover their weapons ranged wildly in size and therefore range and speed. Some of them used the massive longbows that were favored in the North. Some of them had crossbows, smaller and lighter than most found in Westeros. Still others used smaller double curved bows made of horn and sinew from the far east of Essos, which could fire both rapidly and with penetrating power, which had caused hundreds of deaths so far among his infantry. And the last were 50 Summer Islands men who used great bows of Golden heart. Those bows had greater range than even the great bows of the North, and were being kept back purposefully to target any dragon that tried to attack the army.

But what the Golden Company lacked was magical defenses. Melisandre had not been slain by the Faceless, and knew two things: one, who to blame for the attempt on her life, and two, where Stannis was concentrating his forces. And while most of her attention had been centered on the dragons, now that they were no longer fighting and the Dornish army in retreat, she had attention to spare for the Golden Company and a bit of personal revenge.

Near the front of the spear phalanx Jon Connington laughed raucously as the Stormlands infantry all fell back. Yes, yes the Stormlands men would pay, they would all pay for Rhaegar's death, for killing the one man Jon had ever really loved. After a moment under Balaq's eyes his laughter faded into a smirk. "We've got this, Baratheon can't break our lines, and when he finally retreats we'll be able to concentrate on the Stark's forces outside their encampment. Then Varys should be able to talk the Dornish to our side after watching Viserys lead them into ruin."

"If it is all the same I will keep to watching the skies yes? I still wonder why the Stormborn queen has not set her dragons on us." The Summer Island man said in his accented Common. "I also not be counting my gold until after… the… battle…" Balaq's voice trailed off and he snarled angrily, pulling his massive Golden Heart bow off his shoulders and readying a large arrow. "I be thinking that the eunuch's Faceless failed to kill the witch. Pity he not be near, least I could have shown him the price for failure."

Jon turned in the direction the man was looking only to gape. A massive fireball had grown from a small flickering light in the air, ignoring Balaq's arrow, which he had tried to use to disrupt the fireball somehow. It grew and grew as the men below it began to look up then fell on the spear line in front of them before Jon or any of the others could order their retreat. It hit with a massive "BOOOM!" sound, engulfing several hundred men, immolating them where they stood.

Sitting on his horse well back of the battle Stannis was waiting for this moment. He pulled out Lightbringer, holding it up high as the blade erupted in flames. Then he pointed at the area Melisandre's fireball had cleared. "There! Push them there now!" With that he charged forward.

Around him the 2,000 men of his Fire Guard charged with him, all of them on horseback, while his reserves did the same, followed quickly by his horded cavalry.

Or some of them anyway. In the midst of battle Stannis did not notice that several of his lords were keeping their men back from the action. Or that the second column, comprised of 7,000 men of the Reach, had not joined the main Stormlands and Reach component he was leading. News of Mace's death had reached them, and most of the lords of the Reach had decided that they wanted no further part in this battle.

Stannis had started the day with around 28,000 men. Though he did not know it, he had already lost a little over half the Reach cavalry he had sent to harass the Stark encampment, with the rest embroiled in a battle there. Now more than 8,000 men had quietly bowed out of the battle. And even as the battle turned against the Golden Company more than two-thirds of the men he had left to guard his camp and flank against the Dornish horse archers had also pulled back. Not returning to camp once they heard the news of Mace's death, they moved away from the battle entirely, out eastward. And Lord Staedmon and his house's men, pulled out of position from the horse archers, hadn't even noticed.

At the moment, he barely had 12,000 men, all of them embroiled in this one portion of the battle. Stannis had fallen into the same trap Renly had, though not quite as badly. He had concentrated on one aspect of the battle, losing sight of the bigger picture and trusting his lords to be doing their jobs. A mistake given the quality of those lords whatever his opinion about their loyalty, especially in relation to the lords serving Ranma and Daenerys.

OOOOOOO

The spear phalanx could not stretch itself to the sides to protect its flanks very well, and Ranma and his men were in and among the Golden Company's camp quickly. As his men went about the business of pillaging, Ranma sped through the camp looking for the most garish tents he could with a band of 10 men behind him. They killed several armed servants and Golden Company men before they came upon the tent Ranma was searching for.

Dashing inside, he found not the commanders he had been hoping to ambush and kill, thus taking away any remaining strategic cohesion from the Golden Company, but a young girl tied to a bed. Her face showed tearstains both old and new. Her wrists and ankles were rubbed raw from where she had tried to break her bonds. In her mouth she had a gag, and she was wearing some kind of silk chemise, which was much too large for her spare frame.

Scowling angrily Ranma ripped off his wolf-fur coat tossing it over the girl's body and moving to one side of the bed while he barked orders of his men. "Spread out! Find me the command tent!"

One of them had already ordered the others to do so, and came back with a prisoner. "This was trying to get away my Lord! We caught him by the horses. Ranma spared a glance at the man's captive. "Varys! Excellent, keep an eye on him, he's got a date with the hangman or my sword, and I'd hate for him to miss it."

The men laughed, while Ranma ripped off the gag in the girl's mouth tossing it at the man who was holding Varys' arms behind him. "Stick that in his mouth for now too. Everything that comes out of his mouth is poison."

The men chuckled grimly, while Ranma turned back to the girl working on her bonds. "And who are you, milady?"

The girl shivered, but the weight of the heavy fur coat on her shoulders and the kind, understanding look in Ranma's eyes caused her to answer honestly. "I-I'm Glinda of House Massey I, I suppose the Lady Massey now unless, unless my brother and father still live."

"I can't help you there, milady. I'm Ranma Stark, and I'm afraid your brother and father are currently fighting against me and against these bastards. I haven't seen your House colors yet, but I saw your father at a parlay yesterday, so there's some hope at least. Don't worry, you'll be treated as a respected guest by my men so long as you're with us, and I won't try to use you against him or anything like that. Can you ride?"

The girl nodded, while Ranma pulled the fur coat around her more tightly before lifting her out of the bed, grimacing angrily. She was but a slip of a girl, barely Myrcella's age! Yet the way she twitched and trembled in his grasp, the wounds she had and the way she had been tied to the bed told Ranma all he needed to know of the ordeal she had been going through.

Within moments upon exiting the tent both Glinda and Varys were placed on horses with Varys tied there, his hands tied up to the shoulders around the horse's neck so they met by his wrists only to be tied together there. Ranma turned to the man who had taken charge of the 10 men unit that had followed him. "Sean, take these two and about forty others and head back and around the battle. I want them back among our encampment soonest!"

"Aye my Lord." the man replied, nodding his head quickly and moving off, grabbing more commandeered horses from among the few horses left in camp by the Golden Company. All around him the looting continued, but Ranma had made certain that his men understood his orders. If any of them tried to take liberties with a woman, be she a camp follower or not, they would die. And there was no drinking or burning going on either, simply killing and looting.

Another man ran up, one of House Blackwood's man named Barnabas who had remained with the rest of the army. According to Tytos he couldn't move silently to save his life, so was useless as an ambusher, but he was a decent enough swordsman. "My Lord!" he said bowing his head quickly. "We found the commander's tent, but it was empty save two. We killed them both as they were trying to escape. I think the rest of the Golden Company commanders are out with their men."

Ranma nodded then both men paused as a distant 'BOOM' grabbed their attention. Looking around for something to climb so he could get a view of the total battle Ranma spotted a spare howdah. Racing over to it he motioned Barnabas to follow him. There he leaped up easily landing lightly and staring out around the battle.

He couldn't see all of it from his vantage point of course, it wasn't nearly high enough to give him that kind of view of the battle which spanned five leagues in every direction. But he could see that the Golden Company had been stuck between two fires. Stannis had flanked them from the west with his main force and he and his men had flanked them from the east, pulling their attack column away from engaging his camp even though it looked as if the elephants had done a number on his southernmost defenses.

He could see the fractured spear phalanx his own pikes were facing falling back continuously now, one or two men panicking as the vaunted discipline of the Golden Company began to fray. But that was a slow process, and the commanders on that front seemed to have a better grasp of their men than the ones facing westward. Those were a bare league away, and they were breaking as he watched, one entire flank of their formation gone for some, possibly magical, reason. Is that Stannis leading them? With that flaming sword it has to be.

He shouted down to Barnabas. "Get the men formed up, we need to pull back from the camp! Stannis is coming!"

It took some time for Barnabas and the other sergeants (as Ranma thought of them in his head) to bellow the men back into order, sending off another four hundred men with laden horses with their purloined loot, which would be distributed among the total army later on, with some of it possibly returned to House Bar Emmon and Massey after the war.

As his irregular infantry formed up to face the Baratheon forces, that scene in the tent was replaying in Ranma's mind. The look on the girl's face when he and his men entered, the fear he saw there. Why do some humans think they need demons and devils to create hell, when so many are so good at creating it right here on earth?

Seeing the might of the Baratheon army coming towards him Ranma frowned, getting his head back in the war. I wanted to husband my own strengths just in case Melisandre was able to do something more today despite what happened last night, but it looks as if she shot her bolt already. Fine, that lets me shoot mine, and maybe we'll be able to get out of this, or at least hold until the pike is finished with the Golden Company. He looked at Barnabas. "Prepare to sound the charge."

"My Lord?" Barnabas looked worried at the massive force of infantry and cavalry coming towards him now. The spear phalanx that was holding them back had broken, shattering now. The cavalry of the Stormlands and Reach were now fully engaged slaughtering the Golden Company men as their phalanx, the cohesion which had spelled life-and-death broke a bare bow's range in front of where they had formed up right outside the Golden Company's camp. " Shouldn't we try to retreat back to the pikes?"

Ranma shook his head. "No, the spear phalanx on that side is still holding strong. They're breaking too slowly for us to think we'll have much aid there, we'd just lead this bunch straight to them. No," Ranma cracked his shoulders for a moment rolling them under his lizard line armor. "It'll be up to us to hold, and that means we should get in among them now before the Baratheon forces can reform after smashing the Golden Company. That kind of melee will play to our strengths."

"Follow me in!" With that he charged forward, his hands falling to his side as he gathered his ki. About a hundred yards away from where the melee was occurring Ranma stopped. An arrow from a Summer Islander with a massive bow slammed into his chest, bouncing off his lizard lion armor. Before the other archers could try their luck Ranma brought his hands forward. "Direwolf's Claw!"

The blades slammed into the ferocious melee, slicing through men, armor, horses, weapons, everything. Screams of fear and agony erupted from both the embattled sides, and Stannis stared in shock as two of the Fire Guard directly in front of him were ripped in two by the odd technique that Lord Stark used. So that magic has a slightly longer range than I thought, though it seems to spread to all sides equally, he thought grimly, seeing that the entire back of the spear phalanx had been gutted, along with his own men who had begun to encircle them.

With that, what little cohesion the Golden Company had still retained disappeared. Men began to run for their lives turning this way, northwards and southwards to get away only to run into the onrushing Stark irregular infantry.

Stannis himself was about to shout to his men to try and reform them, but a spear thrust up catching his horse directly in the stomach. The beast whinnied shrilly, standing on its hind legs suddenly and throwing Stannis off.

A few of the Golden Company infantry made for him, but his Fire Guard formed up quickly about six men dispatching the Essossi before one of them pulled Stannis to his feet. "Your Majesty, we should retreat! The second cavalry' units, it, a-a few of the Reach men are saying said that Lord Tyrell has been killed, and the Reach forces are all pulling back!"

"What about Ambrose, Costayne and Cordwayner, or Appleton?!"

"Lord Ambrose and his men are still engaged on the far side of the Stark encampment. Lord Costayne's missing my lord, possibly cut down by the other lords with him, and the other two are dead! Appleton just now and Cordwayner took an arrow to the eye!"

Stannis grimaced angrily. With those four men dead or not available he had lost his most powerful proponents among the Reach Lords that he could trust to stay loyal to their oaths to him. "Very well, signal…."

That was fought as far as he got for a voice intoned "Honor Above All!" A single fusillade of oddly shaped spears hammered the melee still going on than the Stark Irregular infantry charge slammed into them.

The infantry of the northern and Riverlands had been trained on the march, with the Northerners having been trained for months now to work together, to form small shield walls here and there, to watch each other's back. Stannis had tried to do the same to his own men with differing levels of success.

He had taken the marines of the Royal Navy and forged them into a land-based force, but they had been hammered badly in the battle against Renly. His Stormlands infantry had taken the blunt of the battle here against the Golden Company so far, and their cohesion had never been the best even before that. And his cavalry and reserves that had broken through and encircled the Essossi had been mauled a moment ago by whatever strange magical skill Ranma Stark possessed. Thus numbers was on one side, cohesion and training the other.

It was anyone's guess how this battle would go now. All the maneuvering, all the planning, all the strategy no longer mattered. Chaos had played all the cards it could, and now it was down to numbers, blood, courage, and steel.

Stannis grabbed a nearby horseman, pushing him out of the saddle before leaping up into it. "Rally to me! Rally to me! We can still win this, rally to me!"

OOOOOOO

Melisandre stared into the fire, her mind unwilling to focus easily, it took an effort of will to not give in and not look away. Whatever that Faceless did to me must still be in my system somehow despite the cleansing of R'hllor. She only been able to conjure up a few fireballs so far, one of which had hammered the northern encampment somewhat, and the other which had shattered the Golden Company's spear phalanx. But Melisandre could not, no matter how hard she tried, bring enough willpower to bear to take control of the dragon flame and turn it on Daenerys' creatures, despite the one still in the air being within her range.

With Calixares dead and Balerion heavily injured and retreating with the entire Dornish army, Daenerys had achieved air superiority, but instead of using it to ruthlessly wipe out her enemies, she had retreated to her encampment. Only one of her creatures now circled the battlefield, not taking part. That was the one Melisandre was trying to attack magically, but it wasn't working. Somehow whatever had been in that incense greatly impacted her ability to use the sacred fire as a medium even now, and it wasn't going away.

It never occurred to Melisandre that the Faceless might have attacked her in two different ways since she had seen the man hold up the incense burner. But the Faceless were not known for failure, and this one had prepared a second bow to his quiver. After all, the logs of wood Melisandre used for her pyres weren't anything special, and its supply was unguarded. And in autumn in the Riverlands, who would ever notice the logs being coated with something a little slimier than normal rain could account for.

Why is the dragon circling like that anyway if it isn't going to attack? And by R'hllor's breath, how is the Stormborn wench controlling it when she isn't in the saddle? Surely her power of voice and eye cannot remain after the beast leaves her presence? Melisandre didn't understand how Daenerys was controlling the beasts, not understanding the warg connection. Could they have been trained to such an extent that they can act on their own without a rider, is that even possible with dragons? Wait… No!

What had caused Melisandre to turn away from her attempts to attack the flying dragon was the glimpse of the Stargaryen cavalry sortieing, passing under the dragon in her vision. They had been husbanded up until this point but now they rode out, moving in such a way to flank the battle between Lightbringer and the Golden company's infantry. At the same time the Wolf-who-walks-like-a-man had used his odd magic to break through the remainder of phalanxes among the Golden Company, his infantry charging behind them to pin the Azor Ahai and his army in place. It wasn't a planned assault, there being no way for the two groups to communicate, but it would work as well as one.

Where is the rest of the army? Have those cowards forgotten their oaths to the Azor Ahai? If they have, they will burn no matter how far they run! But that is for later, right now, I cannot allow the Azor Ahai and his men to be pinned between two foes! Wearily Melisandre concentrated, her hands moving into the flame again clenching the flames between her fingers, before, she began to concentrate, sending them into the image directly above the charging cavalry.

She looked up sharply as a scream from outside and bugles sounding broke her concentration. Standing up she weaved dizzily on her feet for a moment, before pushing the tent flap open and staring out. One of her few remaining acolytes turned to her. "My lady, the Dornishmen thegahh!"

An arrow took the woman from behind, and Melisandre glared angrily at the sight of hundreds of horse archers pelting into the cake encampment. They were being met by the portion of the Fire Guard had been left behind to guard her, but where were the screening elements?

She shouted that question aloud, and a Fire Guard who was racing through the camp on foot stopped for a moment to answer her. "Overcome we think my lady, they were pulled out of position and flank from both sides by this new stronger force of horse archers, Lord Staedmon is dead, and his men were routed! The Reach forces…"

That was as far as he got before Melisandre turned, conjuring up a fireball and sending it whistling through the space between two tents, impacting six horse archers that had been charging towards her. Hmm, that was much easier than trying the same with the sacred fire, odd.

"I know not why the Reach have fled, but there will be a reckoning! Azor Ahai will see to that! For now to me!" She held up her hand, conjuring a bright green flame for a moment sending it into the air above her position. Then she gestured, and another tongue of flame shot out, igniting several dozen horse archers, man and horse screaming as one as they were immolated. "It is the time to fight and die, but by the grace of R'hllor we will prevail!"

OOOOOOO

Greatjon bellowed in laughter, pointing his sword ahead. Daenerys was right! They had been able to get the heavy and light cavalry out of camp and flank Stannis' force, almost coming in from directly behind but not quite, without any of his other forces interfering. Daenerys had predicted that, having seen the Reach forces pulling back from the field of battle through Rhaegon's eyes. She had supposed that Mace must have died somewhere, not having seen the banners of the unit Calixares had immolated.

The Reach units really have mostly fallen back! Damned cowards, but it works well for us! Now, even though Ranma's irregular infantry was out-numbered heavily they had friends coming, and they would catch Stannis' force between them. "The Giant's Rage! The Giant's Rage for the true King and Queen!"

His lance slammed into a Stormlands horse, the colors of the man on it indicating he was from house Buckler. A second later his greatsword was out, cutting the man almost in half despite the chainmail he wore. His next opponent wore heavy plate, but that didn't avail him any better than chainmail did his fellow. Behind Greatjon's massive strength his greatsword crunched into the heavy plate armor, shearing off the man's sword arm.

All around him the carefully cavalry of the Riverlands and the Northern cavalry that had remained with the Army charged into the disorganized and force of Stormlands infantry and what little cavalry remained under Stannis' command.

Stannis saw this, and shouted again "Rally to me!" before pointing at Greatjon and the chained giant banner flowing behind the man. He looked to his side, noting that he was surrounded by Fire Guard grimly. "Slay that one, slay the giant under the Umber banner, and we'll demoralize their assault, force it to retreat and we can pull back!"

The man all around him nodded grimly then moved forward as a unit, their lances down. Their horses trampled their own men to get to grips with the Stark cavalry.

From his own place in the battle Ranma kicked out, lashing out with hands, feet and Ice, leaping around here and there causing havoc and carnage wherever he went. Behind him the irregular infantry pushed forward, hacking and slashing at their fellows, dozens of men dying but taking hundreds with them. The effect of Ranma's first assault had shattered the morale of the enemy, which had been on the high after taking advantage of the fireballs that Melisandre had conjured into the Golden Company's ranks, and now both sets of enemy's were fighting just as hard to get away as they were to kill their opponents.

Standing on top of a horse's rearing head for a moment Ranma lashed out from to the side with Ice, killing the horse's rider and six other men around him while he looked around. Orienting on the fiery blade of Lightbringer where it was forging through the battle he saw the banner of the freed giant had appeared with the rest of the cavalry. Greatjon you magnificent bastard! He then led to another horse for a moment, staring past and his own men and smiled grimly.

A few moments later he had made his way back and stood next to Barnabas for a moment, leaping out of the melee to land where the man had paused. His own shield had been smashed to pieces, and he threw it to the side before reaching down to a dead man picking up his shield. He jumped a little when Ranma landed next to him. "GAH, um your majesty? Er, how are we doing?"

"We're doing fantastically Barnabas!" He shouted those words to be heard by the nearby men. "Greatjon and the cavalry have come from the side! And the pikes are nearly finished with the Golden Company phalanx. Hold here until they arrive, be the anvil to the cavalry's hammer, then tell Jason to press forward when he arrives with the pike!"

From what Ranma could see that phalanx hadn't broken like the one that had faced Stannis. It had simply died. Here and there a few men had run, some had even surrendered once they realized that their camp had been sacked. But the majority had fought, giving ground only grudgingly against the pike, doing more damage to the pike regiments than the entire war had done so far but losing five or six men for every one man they slew.

"And yourself, Your Majesty?" Barnabas asked, flexing his shield arm for a moment getting used to the weight of the shield he had taken from the ground, a Golden Company shield rather than one of his own men's.

"I'm going to cut off the Stag's head." Ranma replied grimly.

"More power to you milord!" said more than one man around him, shouting over the din of battle having heard Ranma's statement over the same. Ranma laughed grimly, then turned and leaped out over the heads of his men where they retained a semi-cohesive shield wall.

Landing, Ranma found himself surrounded by Stormlands infantry, some House he had never seen the colors of before, purple and dark blue for the most part with a small stag on a black background run through with a red chevron in the flew in an arc decapitating two men, before Ranma kicked out smashing one man's chest so hard that he flew backwards into another man taking them both down. Then he was leaping on, stopping here and there to attack but mostly heading in the direction he had seen Stannis moving through the battle.

Greatjon's horse went out from under him, its head practically sliced off by Lightbringer. "Old Gods' damnit!" Greatjon bellowed, but kicked loose of the saddle, rolling and grunting irritably as his plate armor took the weight of the landing. But he was on his feet quickly, greatsword whistling around to smash aside one man's mace, before coming back in an economical movement with a bare twist of his wrists to slice that man's throat open, cutting through gorget and jugular with equal ease.

An instant later he brought his blade back up and over to block with both hands a blow from Stannis' own greatsword. "Stannis Baratheon!" Greatjon rumbled grinning behind his beard. "That's a fancy blade you've got, let's see how good you are with it."

Not a Wolfsworn, Greatjon had still been reckoned a fell blade not only in the North but among those of Westeros who had heard or seen him. He was huge, monstrously powerful even for his size, one of very few men who could have reasonably gone toe to toe with Gregor Clegane in a strength contest and while not win not be humiliated either. He was also fast, and had trained with the Wolfsworn on and off again since this war began. His blows were economical, swift and certain.

Stannis however could also have been marked as a great warrior, not the swordsman Jaime or others of that level but still a renowned blade in his own right. And Lightbringer was a magical blade, its flames gave it some of the properties of a Valyrian sword, making the greatsword light in his hand allowing him to match his opponent's speed. And Stannis was too canny a man to try to match the larger Greatjon strength for strength.

The two large men exchanged about six or seven dozen blows in the next few moments. Greatjon was pressing Stannis hard, while around him the men of his house dueled with the Fire Guard. For the moment their contest was even.

Osha too was there, stabbing out repeatedly. She attacked horses and men alike, using her unhampered speed to great advantage, though she paid for it. One of her arms was hanging limply at her side, and she had a bruise developing along her cheek, from where a mace had caught her at the tail end of its swing. The helmet Roger had forced her to wear had saved Osha's skull, but she'd gotten some new scars for her collection today.

Nearby Greatjon had gotten Stannis into a position where he had to block an overhand blow. Bringing his greatsword down, Greatjon bellowed. "You're mine!"

Stannis swung his own blade upwards, and the Umber lord gasped in dismay as his blade was cut in two by Lightbringer. He dodged back rapidly as Stannis brought his blade back down and around, almost slicing Greatjon across his upper chest. His last-minute dodge had saved him, though his armor was opened right along one pectoral, the plate no match for the tip of that enchanted weapon. And the fires of the blade burned his chest, causing Greatjon to bellow in pain. "GAH-damn magic!"

He stumbled over the dead body of a Stormlands' infantryman, scrabbling one-handed for a blade for a moment, but knowing he would be too late.

Stannis made to thrust down with the point of his sword but before he could complete the thrust, another sword interposed itself, smashing Stannis' blade aside. "Tag in my friend." Ranma said nodding his head at Greatjon respectfully. "I believe this fight is mine."

Greatjon nodded wearily, pushing himself to his feet and holding a long sword, the blade looking incongruously small in his massive hand for a moment. "More power to you lad, just beware that blade of his. Although I suppose you have an advantage there too." He guffawed, bellowing in laughter while hacking at a few Fire Guard men who had been about to attack Ranma from behind. "The Giant's Rage, the Giant's Rage for the King and Queen!"

Behind Greatjon Ranma smiled grimly raising his blade to his face in a gesture of respect towards Stannis. "Lord Baratheon, I believe it's time we end this."

"Aye Lord Stark, I believe it is." Stannis did the same, and the two men charged one another.

OOOOOOO

"By the sands, gahhh!" Elia dodged frantically, leaping out of the saddle and rolling through the thankfully muddy ground to rest for a moment between two tents of the Baratheon army as the ten man group of horse archers she had been personally leading was immolated by a ball of fire. The overall battle was going their way, but Melisandre was costing them grievously, smashing them here there and everywhere.

The Witch conjured up shields of flame blocking any arrows coming towards her. Long tongues of flame shot out, incinerating man, horse and anything else that got in their way. Most of the Fire Guard were down, and what camp followers the army had, had long since fled, and the battle was going against Melisandre and her forces quickly. But the woman didn't seem at all dismayed by this.

She stood in the center of the camp staring all around her as the horse archers pressed in, forcing the Fire Guard back deeper into the camp. There were only about 100 of them left now, the rest having fallen to the arrows of the horse archers but even so she still stood there arrogant and unmoving.

Then a new wrinkle was added to the battle. From behind the horse archers, arrows began to fall among their own warriors. Men appeared, dashing forward with spears, makeshift spears for the most part but still deadly, attacking the horse archers from behind. "The Riverlands! The Roots of the Tree for the true King and Queen!" shouted a voice, and the skirmishers of House Blackwood came out at from behind, striking here, there and everywhere.

And several hundred men also aimed arrows towards Melisandre from several directions. This caused her attacks to stop as she desperately conjured up her flame shields to burn the arrows midair.

Elia absently noted that the gem on the Red Witch's choker was glowing so hot it almost hurt to look at, before her attention was taken by something closer to her. Beside where Elia had landed in the mud, a hand appeared. Suddenly a short, yet well-formed girl was there, where she hadn't been before, her body covered with mud and grass, having somehow blended into the ground so well Elia hadn't noticed her. Or the trident she had just pulled out of the mud beside her.

For a moment the two women stared at one another then the girl was off, moving quickly and silently through the camp towards Melisandre, pausing whenever the increasingly frantic Melisandre was looking in her way. Faster than Elia would have thought possible the girl was crouching behind a tent directly behind Melisandre, her trident ready.

The instant Melisandre turned her attention away, the girl struck, her trident's tines stabbing into the witch's back.

Melisandre gasped in agony. For all her powers, for all the strength of magic she possessed, Melisandre was still but a mortal woman. The trident had stabbed into her back, piercing her intestines from the back and nicking her spine. It wasn't a immediately killing blow, but it was a fatal one.

She screamed, turning. Her hands glowing red as she reached for the girl, but the trident pressed on, the girl keeping her away from the range of the witch's hands. "You, you foolish girl, you, you've doomed us all, the Great Other, without the Azor Ahai, they, they…"

"Just fucking die witch, Westeros will be a better place without you!" Thrusting hard again the girl bore the woman down to the earth, holding her there pinned until Melisandre gasped her last. With that the girl pulled her trident out, raising it high in the air in victory.

Elia couldn't take your eyes away from the sight of this young girl the short, almost petite girl having downed that Witch who had claimed so many Dornish lives today. She did however look around when a naked blade tapped her on the shoulder. "Would you mind surrendering? It would be a shame to separate that gorgeous head from your shoulders." Asked an almost jovial voice by her ear.

She turned to stare at a young man behind her. He had wide shoulders, dirty armor and hair as black as night with a tanned face and lively brown eyes, which at present were locked on Elia's own. Around them her men were surrendering or dying, the trap having enclosed them from all sides.

Almost in a daze at this sudden turn of fortune, Elia raised her hands above her head, going to her knees in submission. "I am Elia Sand, daughter of Oberyn Martell, and I formally surrender."

OOOOOOO

The duel between Stannis and Ranma was rather anti-climactic. Tired as he was from using the Direwolf's Claw and the battle against the Shadow Warriors the night before, Ranma still had strength and speed beyond any normal human. Unfortunately for all of its magical abilities Lightbringer could not aid the physical abilities of its wielder.

Stannis did his best, parrying some of the massively powerful slashes and cuts of Ice. But the greatsword was glowing blue, and it was a Valyrian blade, forged in dragonfire long ago, more than a match for the flames of Lightbringer. Stannis desperately tried to get some distance, tried to defend himself as well as he could, hoping that Melisandre would somehow come through with another magical assistance.

She didn't.

A few bare minutes into the duel Stannis tried to block a slash coming in from his side, holding Lightbringer in such a way as to redirect Ice into the ground only for a fist to catch him on the chin shattering his jaw and throwing his head back. He saw stars for a moment, but gamely brought Lightbringer up in a desperate attack.

But Ranma ducked underneath it, and then thrust upwards with Ice taking Stannis in the center of the chest, punching through his armored chest and out his back. The blow lifted Stannis off the ground for a moment before Ranma pulled Ice out, moving away slightly.

Stannis went to his knees staring hard at his killer him as he gasped. "Well, well fought Stark, well fought."

Ranma nodded his head respectfully to Stannis. Then without further ado Ice came around, decapitating the last Baratheon brother. With that he held Ice above his head and shouted aloud 'Stannis Baratheon is dead! Surrender, or join him!"

OOOOOOO

Myrcella had gone to work long before the battle actually began. Knowing that she would face more burn victims than any normal battle would see she and her helpers had built up a large supply of burn cream and anything else that could aid them. In fact from the perspective of medical supplies the army had never been in better shape than it was before the battle of the Shadows Fall began. Myrcella had also doubled her helpers, added two new Maesters who specialized in healing, one from House Charlton, and a student of the maester from Riverrun.

The moment that Calixares began to attack the Dornish lines casualties began to flow in and several hours later they were still getting them.

Merry wiped blood from her hand, sighing as she stood up again nodding over at the maester from House Charlton who nodded back wearily. Tristan Ryger would never be able to walk without a cane ever again, one of his legs had been crushed by an elephant's hoof, almost literally flattening the leg. But thanks to the two of them, his life was no longer in danger.

I wish I could say that for most of the other men we've seen, she thought grimly as she moved to help a few of her aides in dealing with a screaming man who had horrendous burns covering his upper body. One glance at the man told Merry he wouldn't live out the day and she quickly shook her head at her two aides, motioning them away.

One of them went her eyes tearing up, while the other simply mechanically nodded, leaning down and giving the man a small pellet, saying it would help with the pain. The pellet was a fast acting painless poison. It would deaden the pain from the burns for a time, and then would gently ease the man into death. Far better than the hours of screaming agony he would have to put up with from his wounds.

The man, a Northerner who had been with her from practically the beginning of the campaign named Luft shook his head. "Running low on t'ose." he said, his accent thick. He was a smallfolk from house Glover land, one of the few men from that area of the North that had joined the army at Winterfell.

"I know, we're running low on practically everything now." Myrcella sighed. "Still, we do what we can."

Patting the man on the shoulder and telling him to do his best not that he wouldn't otherwise of course, she left that tent and hurried over to another. A few hours later, she looked up irritably as someone called her name. Motioning to one of her aides to come forward and start wrapping a man's chest up with bandages after resetting several of his ribs she turned with a snarl on her face.

Her expression softened slightly as she saw her bodyguard standing there. "What is it, Eric?" she asked wearily.

"Prisoners are being brought in my lady, several dozen of them from the Golden Company's camp. Apparently our boys sacked it. One of them's a young woman, was sent here by the Young Wolf and a force of guards. Think you should look her over, personal." Eric said.

Myrcella frowned but nodded and followed the man.

In the next tent over, several beds had been cleared, two from walking wounded and one of a man who had succumbed to his the pain of his burns. In one corner stood Varys, under guard of four men. She scowled at the Master of Whispers, then ignored him moving towards the young woman who was laying on one of the cots. "Hello, I'm just going to give you a bit of a checkup okay?"

Then she paused and the woman cocked her head, looking at her quizzically. "Princess Myrcella?"

"Yes, I recognize you, but I'm sorry I, you were at court once, with your father and brother yes? Some Narrow Sea House I think?"

"House Massey, milady, I'm Glinda Massey. Until recently I was the personal…" she frowned and looked away, her eyes filling with tears. "T-the personal…"

Myrcella quickly reached across hugging the girl, stopping her from speaking. Glinda stiffened for a moment then began to sob quietly into her shoulder. Eventually she ran out of tears for now, and meekly allowed Merry to work on her.

Eventually the story came out, and Merry was quick to tell her she was safe with the Royal Army, and that Aegon was apparently dead along with his dragon, a statement that made the girl smile viciously. Luckily the young woman wasn't suffering any major physical damage. She had rub marks on her wrists and ankle, some malnourishment, but that was all. Yet it was very obvious that she was scared of men, shrinking whenever one of the guards moved around them.

Leaving the tent Merry gave orders to the nearest aide. "Only women are allowed into that tent, in fact, find Dacey if you can. Maybe the offer of getting some martial training when she's up to it will help Glinda calm down a little. Remember, no men, if I see a single man try to enter that tent I'm going to feed them to Fenris!"

She turned her face furious and staring at the guards who had come out with Varys at an abrupt, imperious gesture from her. "That means you take that thing to another tent!" She ordered pointing a trembling finger at Varys. "I imagine his execution will come soon."

At some point during his capture Varys had been able to work his bonds a little, and he now pointed up to his mouth indicating he wanted to say something, staring into Merry's green eyes. Against her better judgment Myrcella nodded her head, indicating that the guards and Varys himself should follow her into a nearby tent. "What do you want?" She barked staring at the eunuch as one of the guards removed his gag.

"You have changed quite a lot since the last time I saw you, little Princess," Varys said after a moment spent working his jaw, looking at her with calculation in his eyes. "Tales of your healing prowess spread far and wide, but my agents neglected to understand that with such would come the courage needed to deal with harsh truths."

"If you're just going to flatter me, put that damn gag back in your mouth." Merry replied coldly.

"That was not the only reason I wished to speak to you, no. I wish to ask you to intercede on my behalf with Ranma Stark. Perhaps get me in touch with Daenerys herself? I'm certain that she will be pragmatic enough to see I am worth more alive than dead."

Behind the eunuch Myrcella saw a flash of platinum hair, and Daenerys stopped in the tent flap, raising one eyebrow and motioning with one hand to Myrcella indicating that she should let the eunuch talk. In one hand however she held Dark Sister, its blade still red with blood and her shoulders drooped wearily. Behind her Ser Barristan and Rickard Karstark stood, with Rickard leaning on the older knight's shoulder, a very makeshift tourniquet tied around one shoulder and his neck.

After sending off Greatjon and their cavalry, a fireball had struck the northernmost barricade, opening a hole for the Reach Cavalry under Lord Ambrose. Daenerys and Sunfyre had gotten involved in defending the center of the camp, where Merry's hospital had been situated, from them and the assault had been a bloody one. She had killed four men, and Fenris and Sunfyre had slain more than a hundred in her defense.

The sight of the injured Rickard made Merry want to simply push Varys aside and start work on the man, but even Rickard was looking on with interest at what Varys thought he had to trade for his life. So she sighed and replied to Varys. "And what exactly do you know, oh Master of Whispers, which would make up for your treason against my father, against the throne? What could possibly make up for backing what amounted to an invasion force of Westeros?!"

"Several things," the 'man' replied, smiling thinly. "I know what and where bodies are buried of course, my network of little birds is still intact for the most part. How is young Alayaya doing by the way? I have listened to the twittering of my little birds about her with interest. Nonetheless she is young, and her 'network' a bare shadow of mine."

Varys smiled almost condescendingly as he went on. "The smallfolk backing you is… nice I suppose, but the merchants in the cities and the surviving lords are where the power truly lies. I also have the names of several of the small banks where Petyr stored his ill-gotten gains scattered here and there. Would that not be a major boon for a new Royal house, whose control of their crowns is not nearly as solid as they might think. Particularly in realms which have not felt their efforts personally."

"Not enough of one to keep your head on your shoulders." Myrcella replied bluntly. She absent-mindedly noticed that Ser Barristan had left, leading off Rickard, which she was happy to see. "Frankly I'm inclined to take it myself."

"But you won't. You see, I know something about you, something that many of my agents also know. If they don't hear from me in over four months, such secrets can regrettably be leaked."

Varys was trying to establish some kind of control over the girl, he desperately needed her to go to bat for him. From the information he had, it was obvious that Myrcella wielded significant influence over Daenerys and Ranma.

How else to explain the fact that the former Queen had been seen riding north recently along with Jaime both of them still alive. Yes his reports indicated that Cersei's mind had shattered after the truth of the Vile One came out, that she was now a mental invalid and that Jaime had lost his sword hand but even so, letting them live was distinctly odd considering who they were.

"And what do you think you know that could ruin me?" Myrcella asked coldly.

"The name of your true father, and the facts about your birth." Varys said with a shrug. "That Stannis' claims were correct, that you and your older brother are children of incest between Cersei and her twin, and that this can be proven."

Myrcella stared at the man then, rather than become angry or frightened as Viserys had thought, she began to laugh. "You, you honestly think that anyone will believe that? God, that's been bruited about so much, I hardly care anymore when someone brings the idea up. It's disgusting to think of, but even if true, I am not my mother, Stranger's Hells, I'd rather not link myself to House Lannister at all!"

"Yet it would ruin your reputation still. You might not care but the smallfolk will. The same smallfolk who love you now will turn on you in a heartbeat. Or what of Ranma? What will he and Daenerys think of your origins, once they are proven fact rather than false propaganda?"

"That is only if your agents themselves will believe your lies, or would be willing to attract attention to themselves after your death." Myrcella scoffed. "In any event, I believe I've built up more of a rapport with the smallfolk over the past few months than you can imagine Varys. That 'lie' will never be believed now, I am Myrcella Baratheon, even if I can no longer carry on the name." She smiled then, staring over his shoulder. "As for Ranma and Daenerys…"

"For my part," said Daenerys's voice from behind Varys who whirled towards her only to pale significantly as he saw the blood splattering her armor, and Dark Sister in her hand. "For my part, even if it was proven true I believe that it would be hypocritical of me to look down on Myrcella for her origins when my own family practiced such for so long. And Ranma wouldn't care less. He would blame the people who did the act, not the girl magnificent young woman who came from it."

Though understanding that this was not going the way he had wanted it to Varys smiled, convinced he could bring Daenerys to his side of things. "I apologize for seeming as if I was trying to browbeat the princess your majesty. If I had known you were here I would never have resorted to such tactics. I simply wanted an audience, and the chance to prove that I am loyal to your family, and to the prosperity of Westeros."

"You're loyal to yourself." Daenerys interrupted him with disgust clear on her face. "If you were loyal to the crown, you would've done all you could to keep Cersei from starting this war. You would've done all you could to keep House Lannister's power at a minimum in the court. Or you would've worked to make certain that it was Eddard Stark rather than Robert Baratheon that took the throne after the war. And if you were loyal to my family, you would've backed my older brother or myself rather than some dragonseed you and the Iron Bank found somewhere."

Daenerys held up a hand as Varys went to speak. "No, I don't care about your reasons, about what twisted chain of logic makes you think you're loyal to my house or care for the welfare of Westeros, despite all evidence to the contrary. You have proven untrustworthy; you are always scheming, always hiding things and only sharing them when it can benefit you personally. You, Varys, represent a threat to Westeros, not a resource. We cannot afford such threats any longer."

Daenerys turned without another word, shouting outside for the guards to enter and tie the eunuch up again, binding him tighter and gagging unit at the same time as he tried to speak again. "Enjoy these last few days of peace in silence, eunuch." Daenerys replied over her shoulder as she and Myrcella moved off with Daenerys sheathing Dark Sister after cleaning it and looking at Myrcella. In the distance they heard the horns roar our in victory and shared a smile. It seemed as if victory was theirs to stay, though dearly bought.

OOOOOOO

The battle continued for the rest of the day despite the Stormlands and few remaining Reach units surrendering wholesale, because no surrender was offered to any of the Essossi at Ranma and Daenerys' orders. Any mercenary who fought that day was put to the sword. They had ravaged the land of two Narrow SeaHouses, they had pillaged and raped their way along the road from Duskendale up to the point where Dacey and her scouts began to intercept them. No mercy was to be given to these men, though Ranma and Daenerys left that to their lords.

Not that there were many of them left. The Company of the Rose had numbered around 1,600 men, mixed infantry and cavalry, the Seconds Sons, another 900 all mounted light infantry. Stannis had smashed them, pulling their attempts at screening elements out of position circling and annihilating them in small groups. Ranma doubted that there were more than a dozen men of those companies still alive, but even so he designated 600 men under Lucas Blackwood to hunt them down.

Those men and the shattered remnants of the Golden Company were all what was left. The once vaunted Golden Company, the largest and inarguably most powerful mercenary company to ever exist in either Essos or Westeros, had been annihilated. They had started the battle with a little over their supposed ten-thousand man complement. Now, if there were more than a thousand men wearing the Golden Company colors left alive Ranma would eat his greatsword.

None of those left alive included any of the commanders or knights. Harry Strickland had died with the elephants, trampled under the beasts he loved so much as they tried to get away from Fenris. A few of the elephants had actually survived the battle, and would later be rounded up, taking down to Duskendale to be used to aid in the repair of that unlucky city.

Jon Connington was dead, he and Balaq had both died from Ranma's ki attack while trying to lead a fighting retreat. The other company commanders had died with their units against the pike, in the command tent, or with Harry. Most of the knights and cavalrymen were trampled by the elephants.

Aegon was dead, along with his dragon, both deaths Ranma regretted but had not shirked from. Aegon had proven too far gone, fed words about his 'rightful place' and had destructive level of entitlement which would have cost far more lives in the long run if he had been allowed to live. As for the dragon, it could have been saved if it had let Daenerys talk it down, but as it was, a dragon was too dangerous to let live in the wild.

The Stormlands army was utterly crippled there was no other way to put told, of the might of the Stormlands that had marched off to war under the Baratheons, only 3,700 men would return home, spread out in small packets to the houses that had taken part. Not a single House that went to war would survive as powerful as they had been.

Of the lords who had originally backed Renly, only Lord Morrigen, Ser Horpe, and Ser Donnel Swann had survived to surrender to Ranma. Of Stannis' original backers, Lords Buckler, Bolling, Errol, Bar Emmon and Massey, three were dead, Buckler, Bolling, and Bar Emmon.

Lord Massey was also dead, but his son survived, and Ranma, smiled gently at the man as he surrendered his sword. "Ser Massey, I believe I found someone that will be very happy to see you when we sacked the Essosi pretender's camp. Your sister Glinda was Aegon's personal captive." Ranma scowled. "I don't have to tell you what she went through, but I sent her back to my army's camp, and nothing bad will happen to her under our protection."

Justin looked at Ranma for a moment, his eyes wide under his sweaty slick hair. "I, thank you, your majesty. I would very much like to speak to her in the near future. Thank you."

"I am a brother too you know Ser, and I cannot imagine what I would do if my sister had to go through something like that." Ranma gestured to a nearby Lord Grell. "Lord Grell will take you to see her now if you wish."

"Thank you, Your Grace," Ser Massey said with a tremulous smile. "Um, and can I congratulate you on a magnificent victory?" Stannis was marked as a great general, and you not only beat him, but two other enemies on this day.

Ranma shook his head. "I didn't beat Stannis, I let him be himself. If the Reach lords had more respect and trust in him, if they hadn't pulled back, this aspect of the battle would've gone much worse for me and mine. We might have won in the end regardless but it would've cost us thousands more dead, and I'm still wondering what the hell happened to the Witch to stop her using her magic."

Besides that, I had Lords, commanders I could trust to act in the best way they could. And I sat on the defensive with most of my army, which allowed me to let the other army's fight it out in the open as much as possible. Other than that, I let the chaos of the battle work for me in a way that Stannis couldn't.

"Honestly, if I had faced Stannis alone this battle would've been much harder, but with him having to split his forces to defend against Viserys and take on the Golden company as he did rather than simply pinning us in place and letting the Red Witch's magic weaken our defenses this battle would've been much different."

Ranma shook his head, smiling slightly. "In any event, Lord Grell will take you to see your sister now."

While the other young man was led away, Ranma turned back to taking more surrenders. As he did, his mind went back to going over what they had already learned about the makeup of the remnant of the Stormlands army.

The men of Buckler would return and serve a distant cousin who had been left behind in Bronzegate. One out of four had survived the war, too small a force to really matter to anyone. Bolling had never had that many men or members, and was now practically extinct. Lord Errol had lived, but was more than willing to be sent to the Silent Brothers. His younger brother had not agreed with backing Stannis, and would take over the lordship easily. Their men however had been mauled, and only a bare hundred would return home.

This level of destruction spread to those Lords that had personally backed Renly and survived the battle of the Blackwater. Of them, Swann and Rogers were the only Houses that could still field more than a thousand men. Rogers had taken some losses yet while Lord Rogers had died, most of their men, led by a grizzled armsmen named Robal, had survived by surrendering at the top of their voices and throwing down their swords while hiding behind their shields. It worked, something which Donnel Swann was quick to emulate.

As his thoughts reached that point Ranma looked up to see Daenerys in the air above him, coming down swiftly. She landed Rhaegon nearby, quickly getting out of the saddle but before she could, Daenerys found herself in Ranma's arms, pulled into a very fierce hug. The two of them stood there beside Rhaegon for a moment simply basking in one another's presence. Ranma frowned however as he pulled back, looking at the blood splattered on Daenerys.

In response to his wordless query she shrugged. "The Red Witch threw some fireballs at our camp's defenses, breaking them along the northern line for the Reach cavalry that were still trying to fight us there. They nearly got into the main camp, and Sunfyre and I were forced to fight against them." She smiled checking her head. "Sir Barristan was beside me every moment though, don't worry."

Ranma nodded, kissing her forehead gently. Then he pulled back one eyebrow raised. "Do we know what happens to the Red Witch yet?"

Daenerys laughed. "Yes, actually! We got a runner from Lord Blackwood, Tytos and Meera led a assault on the Baratheon's camp while the camp was under assault from Dornish horse archers."

She laughed again. "Melisandre was killing hundreds of them, but both sides were blindsided by our own assault. Yet the most amazing thing is, Meera somehow snuck up on her. It was Meera who killed her."

"We're going to have to call Meera Witchslayer now." Ranma laughed as well, shaking his head.

Then he sighed looking above Rhaegon's head at a rider coming towards them under a flag of truce from the west. "I bet this has to be about the Reach forces. I'll leave them in your hands for now;I've got to get to the rest of this mess organized."

Daenerys nodded. "The Reach were Targaryen loyalists in Robert's Rebellion, they'll probably take talking to me alone better than you. But I'd like some more bodyguards." Ser Barristan, who had just ridden up behind them, nearly sagged in the saddle in relief of his charge showing some sense.

"I was going to insist anyway." Ranma laughed. He turned, looking over to where Greatjon was kneeling down next to a dead body whose colors Ranma didn't recognize for a moment until placing them among the men who had followed Aegon that weren't form the Golden Company, obviously some other mercenary band or other. As Ranma watchedGreatjon pulled out a Valyrian greatsword, with a very odd looking hilt. "Greatjon! Could you gather some of your men and go with Daenerys to talk with the Reach lords?"

Greatjon looked over at him from examining the blade and nodded, before moving to join Daenerys who pulled herself into the saddle of a horse Ser Barristan held for her, while Rhaegon leaped up into the sky once more.

OOOOOOO

Ironically despite the Reach's losses to their lords, more of the men of the Reach survived, though their leadership was shot to hell. While Ranma was dealing with the Stormlands lords and men, Daenerys talked to the remaining lords and knights. The senior of these was Lord Fossoway, who Daenerys put in charge of the others for now. A decent, honorable man who was not a very forwardthinker, he was respected by the others and could keep them in line.

The Royals would need to take their oaths of fealty later, but the wording would need to be worked on a bit, considering that Willas, their lawful lord Paramount, which no one could argue now, had yet to swear his own oath. Margaery had given herself up to them, but that didn't quite translate to the same thing.

Talking about it a few hours later, she and Ranma decided they were too battered mentally, their morale shot to hell and back, to be of much use in the North. "And none of those pretty chargers of theirs would survive the winter up north anyway." Ranma stated bluntly, which ended that discussion.

But the battle had not been won without a price in blood. The pike regiments had paid for their victory, with the Stark Regiment having taken 800 casualties and the Tully Regiment having taken around 600, though thankfully as many as half might eventually be on their feet again.

Tristan Ryger had been crippled, his legs smashed to pieces by a trampling elephant as it turned away from the southernmost flank of the encampment. His men had also been hammered badly. House Seagard had also taken heavy losses, though both Jason and Patrek were still alive. House Wayn, Shawney, and Blackwood had all taken losses, though not as much.

The Northerners had suffered as well, men of Hornwood, Ryswell, Umber, Karstark, and Manderly. House Manderly had the worst of it, losing four hundred and sixty men of their pikes to Melisandre's fireball and their being subsequently overrun. Hundreds of families in the North and Riverlands would face their father's not coming home, their brothers and nephews and uncles never returning.

In total, the army had upwards of 3,000 men dead or crippled, with the numbers still being added to the next day. And it would have been even more without the forethought and effort of Merry, the Maiden of Healing or Ranma's decision to sit on the defense with most of his army. But the war wasn't finished, not yet.

Ranma and Daenerys pressed north after the Dornish army within a few hours, while sun was setting. They took about 12,000 men, the remaining light cavalry and heavy, along with the majority of the irregular infantry from the Riverlands, which had not been as bloodied during the battle, as well as most of the army's archers. They left Jason in charge of the rest of the army, and in particular the prisoners.

They pressed the pace somewhat, hoping to catch up with Viserys, though not so hard as to exhaust themselves or their horses. Greatjon and Silas asked Ranma why he was not pushing the pace harder, and he laughed. "Because I don't want us to tire ourselves out. Those men are running after a lost battle, fear is driving them far harder than I would ever drive ours. No, we'll continue at this pace."

"But at this rate they'll possibly reach Maidenpool before us, and maybe have a full day to fortify it. I thought you and Daenerys were against using Sunfyre or Rhaegon against towns and such." Silas Shawney said. He fully agreed with that policy too, after seeing what dragons, even ones so young as these, could do in war.

"We are." Daenerys said with faint smile having been let in on a final little trap Ranma had set. He hadn't expected Aegon, but he had never really expected his idea of getting Stannis and Viserys to fight one another to work perfectly either. No, he had planned ahead of little, planning on something given her word that there might be another force available that could come to their aid, at least in a roundabout fashion.

Deciding to give their lords a hint she elaborated. "My lords, my brother and his army have been away from that city for over two weeks now. What makes you think that they will find it as they left it?"

Greatjon rolled his eyes. "Out with it!" he ordered punching Ranma in the shoulder.

Ranma laughed, smacking the larger man's hand aside playfully. "What, you don't want to wait for the surprise?"

"This has been a long war lad," Silas said shaking his head. "I think we've all had enough surprises."

Ranma sighed but nodded seriously. Aegon and the Golden Company had caught them all by surprise, though they had been able to roll with it and even deal with the problem eventually. And Stannis had come close to winning the war at least three times since he and Ranma's forces had begun to battle weeks ago. If not for the Reach forces pulling back after Mace's death, he could still have won the main battle, especially considering the fact that Meera's attack on Melisandre would never have been possible without that.

"All right, it was the Crackclaw Point Houses. Do you remember me asking Daenerys whether or not they would be loyal to her or her brother? I sent them a message with an order and an offer..."

OOOOOOO

Karhold was a good-sized castle, a five-story keep surrounded by walls with two of them further defended by a moat that was made up of the Sun Stream, a river that came in from the Narrow Sea. The walls weren't as tall as Winterfell's, and the keep wasn't as well made, but it was still a decent defensive position.

Looking at it through the intervening trees, Theon just hoped it would be able to hold out the White Walkers. He grimaced angrily, his good hand moving up to his opposite shoulder and touching it gingerly. The fisher's wife had mended it, and had actually fought back the gangrene that had begun to plague his shoulder, so he hadn't lost the limb. Wouldn't that've been ridiculous, a one armed bowman?

But what really worried him was the fact the trip to Karhold had taken so long! There were no roads or paths through to the Karhold from the Bay of Seals. And going through the woods of had been slow going in comparison to even normal travel in the North, made worse by the snow slowly building on the ground and the debilitating cold.

He nodded at the leader of the Karstark men around him, who he had met a few weeks ago while they were patrolling through the woods of their lands. Since then they had been able to speed up their journey, though not nearly fast enough to make Theon happy. The fisher-folk had broken off then, determined to head back to their boat and sail down the shore to the Bite. "How much longer?"

"Will be there in another few hours my Lord." said the man.

"Good," Theon said with a nod. "I just hope Torrhen listens to me."

In fact Torrhen did listen to him, leaning back in his father's chair his fingers tapping a thoughtful staccato on the armrests. He was not a normally thoughtful young man,in fact he was brash, outgoing and quick to think with his fists. But he had been left in charge by his father, and he and his mother had between them kept Karhold running along with the lands around it. After Theon stopped speaking, he exchanged a glance with his what mother, who was standing next to him, frowning all the while as Theon spoke.

Torrhen desperately wanted to make a joke. He really, really did. Something about Theon's dick getting him in trouble, or whether or not the White Walkers pussy was as cold as the rest of her. But with his mother standing right next to him, that just wasn't going to happen. And frankly the rest of the news Theon had shared killed any enjoyment he had about the Greyjoy lush's libido getting him into trouble. "So what you're saying," he said slowly, is that the White Walkers are definitely on Skagos?"

"If you have a better explanation for what I saw, what I experienced, I'm all ears." Theon replied coldly. "I don't know how they got there, I thought that the old legends said they couldn't cross the ocean, but they seem to have figured out a way."

Torrhen nodded already thinking about what he had to do. "I'll order my men out to scour the holdfasts on our land. Our people have already begun to gather in those in preparation for winter, but against something like this the holdfasts won't… hold." He smirked a little at his word joke but went on seriously. "I'll also have our own men start cutting back the forest around Karhold itself. We've already got it cut back somewhat for a safe zone, but we should probably cut it back even further."

"The wood will be necessary too." Lady Karstark said thoughtfully. "We should send a raven to house Umber, see if we can get in some more coal before these White Walkers fall upon us."

"We'll have to send raven's out in any event, To the Last Hearth, to Eastwatch-By-The-Sea, and of course to Winterfell." Torrhen replied.

"Winterfell first." Theon said firmly. "I'll write that message. Everyone needs to be warned."

Torrhen nodded and stood up. "Get yourself warm, get some food in you, and write that message Theon. We have some preparations to see to."

OOOOOOO

"Say that again?" Petyr said sharply looking at Osney Kettleblack, who surprisingly had ridden out to the Army rather than wait for their arrival. But the news he brought was such that Petyr was thankful the man had done so.

Osney shrugged his shoulders angrily. "House Brune and the other Crackclaw Point Houses have taken the city. They moved up along the coastline, there's a series of small roads there, infiltrated the city over a series of days then took it! They've got Mooton locked up, only his daughter has leave to exit the keep now, and they rounded up all of his men and anyone else that could possibly side with him or the king."

He shrugged laconically. "Few even bothered fighting them honestly, the smallfolk of the town were on their side almost from the get-go when they declared they were claiming the town for House Stargaryen, Seven's Hells, I had to get out before someone recognized me! Though they haven't raised their flags on the walls yet for some reason."

Petyr stared at him then frowned as he pictured the walls of Maidenpool, still a full days' journey ahead of them tomorrow. They weren't very high walls, but they were decently durable ones made of stone, and had towers dotting them here and there. Nothing a siege or a truly persistent army couldn't break through, but their army lacked that willpower at this point.

The men that Petyr had brought to the cause were dead or scattered along with more than half the army Viserys had started with, the horses archers sent against the Baratheon camp lost to a man, and the force sent against the Starks badly mauled. The Dornishmen were shocky, fearful, the morale extremely low at the sudden turn around. Balerion was wounded and nearly mad from the pain of it, un-flyable and almost unapproachable entirely. The beast had been carried on a cart sedated for most of the journey.

Yet they aren't putting their flags on the wall to declare their allegiance, why? Petyr's thoughts shuddered to a halt. They're not trying to hold the city against us, they're trying to lure us in. Smash us between the walls and the Army behind us.

He shook his head. It's over. Viserys and his faction are done. Even if I informed them of this, what would they do? And what would I gain from it? I backed Viserys because I had to, because his force caught my ship, it is now time to cut my loses. And perhaps, just perhaps…

"I think…" he said aloud, "I think it's time for us to go. Oswell, you have our disguises, and the list of lords in charge of the guards on duty tonight? " I may not be able to sit on a king's counsel anymore, but I might be able to salvage something. "We make for the shore tonight, then from there…"

OOOOOOO

Petyr's disappearance was found out the next day as the army came within shouting distance of Maidenpool, and Viserys and his wife both scowled angrily. A rat leaving a sinking ship, Arianne thought angrily, though she had anticipated this. What she had not anticipated was that Petyr and his sellswords would have been able to bypass her own preparations. She had hoped the man would be caught, the hatred Ranma Stark bore for Petyr could've made handing him over a good bargaining chip, at least enough to get Ranma to parlay with them again.

"It matters not my dear," Viserys said though he scowled as he said it, staring at Balerion. His wounds had healed somewhat, and Viserys felt he could fly with Balerion once more, but the rage and fury in the dragons eyes dissuaded him from attempting it at the moment. "We'll still be back in Maidenpool within the hour, and with its walls and siege weapons, we can hold for now while Balerion continues to heal. I won't be caught by surprise…"

He trailed off staring at the walls. "Those banners, they weren't there before, were they?" Seconds later the front ranks of the Army began to come under sudden fire from the walls and he glared up at them. "Traitors!"

Arianne gaped at the walls as well. "The Stark Army is only a day behind us! What are you going to do?" She was beginning to panic now, all of her dreams of vengeance, of becoming Queen of Westeros had slowly but surely segued into disaster, and this seemed to be the final straw.

Viserys glanced over at Balerion, who had roused itself, staring ahead at the screams of the dying. "Get those chains off him!" He ordered, before turning back to his wife. "If I can reclaim those walls, we can get into the town. We have to do it quick, I'd wager my sister's army is closer than we think."

"If you can clear a section of the wall, we've got grapples enough to get a force up on top of them." Arianne nodded, getting a grip on herself.

As Viserys made his way over to Balerion, a saddle was brought forward, but he shook his head. "No, that will aggravate the wounds on his side. I'll have to ride without them. Fit the reins, that's all!"

Balerion moved its head wildly, but eventually the men got the reins in place, but not before it had bitten the arm off one of them. With his mouth still bloody, Viserys moved to Balerion's back getting on top of Balerion right in front of its wings. "Climb the Sky!"

A moment later they were in the air.

Nearby, Nymeria scowled, knowing this entire affair had become a simple disaster. Now it was time to make certain that she at least made it out of this alive. While Arianne raced off to get in the way of the lords trying to from up the army Nymeria grabbed several men of House Martell. Without speaking she led the way towards the 'special prisoners' tent.

Within they found Shireen who looked at Nymeria coldly as she pushed the tent flap out of her way. Nymeria didn't speak to her simply ordering, "Grab her, but be gentle. We'll need to then head to the cart Balerion was transported in."

OOOOOOO

Behind the Dornish army Ranma and the portion of the army he had taken with him on this chase had also come within sight of the walls having pushed hard throughout the night to close the gap. Sunfyre and Rhaegon were both up in the air as was Daenerys, this time on Rhaegon's back.

Below Ranma stared ahead, but it was Fenris' hearing which made him nod, hearing that the battle had begun. "They've come within bow range of the walls. The army will advance!"

All around Ranma the light and heavy cavalry were switching from their horses, moving to relatively fresh mounts. The small number of infantry had already dismounted and wasriding away in two columns, with Greatjon leading one and Patrek the other while Silas lead the light cavalry and Ranma the heavy.

Meera had taken charge of the archers, and was following the infantry in two mobs, which spread out as they went forward. That way when the archers joined the battle, they would be attacking from all sides and would not present any single target for a countercharge from any remaining cavalry among the enemy.

Within moments the cavalry was within charging range, and Ranma raced on with Fenris beside him and the heavy cavalry charging in his wake as the light cavalry spread out to start attacking the flanks of the Dornish Army, which had begun to spread as well, though slowly.

OOOOOOO

Viserys soared above Maidenpool, aiming his dragon down at a portion of the wall. "Attack, attack there!"

However Balerion balked suddenly, staring over to one side and then began to flap its wings heavily, trying to gain altitude. Viserys looked in that direction and his heart quailed as he saw one of the dragons of his sister coming towards them. He could see his sister was riding on its back, and an irrational anger suddenly filled him at the site. Below that dragon, the army that had pursued them over the last two weeks from the battle of the Shadow's Fall was marching forward, almost within charging range as he watched.

It's all over, Viserys realized with a sudden wrench inside, and a building fury. It's all over. All of my dreams of a triumphant return, all of my hopes for the future, my dreams of justice and vengeance, everything I worked for done in by a traitor sister and her stinking wolf of a paramour!" But if I can't win my throne, I can at least make certain you never sit on it sister!" Viserys shouted, allowing Balerion his head. "Kill her." He shouted leaning forward along the dragons neck. "Kill them both!"

With Sunfyre still gaining altitude behind them Rhaegon and Balerion circled one another, with Daenerys directing Rhaegon with her mind far more than with her legs and words. It was an advantage, but it wasn't working so well now. Viserys wasn't directing Balerion anymore, simply pointing him in their direction and letting Balerion do the fighting.

And it was a massive beast, easily half again as large as Rhaegon, its scales also proportionately tougher. Its front scales along its neck and face turned aside several blasts of Rhaegon's flame as the two beasts closed, while the return shot forced Rhaegon to evade wildly. The two continued to circle for several minutes, neither one getting an advantage, while Sunfyre came closer all the time from above.

Balerion however had seen the smaller dragon coming, and pressed forward hard, his wings pushing him forward and to the side faster than Rhaegon had anticipated, nearly catching Rhaegon with a blast of fire dead on when Rhaegon ducked to that side, Daenerys and Rhaegon having anticipated an attack on their previous position.

Rhaegon was almost able to dodge the blast, but he squalled in pain when the tip of one wing was caught in his enemy's fire. Balerion capitalized, moving in quickly with another gout of flame causing Rhaegon to desperately duck down and away from his charge, but that gave Balerion the height advantage.

Roaring victoriously it reached down with its front claws ready to gouge deep into Rhaegon's back near where his sinuous body met his tail, hoping to kill this enemy before the second, smaller dragon could join the battle.

But it had neglected to think of Daenerys. Kicking out of her stirrups, Daenerys turned her body entirely around, grasping the saddle horn with one hand and pulling out Dark Sister. Crouching there on Rhaegon's back for a moment she readied herself to attack the black-scaled dragon when it closed. Realizing however that the Dragon would still maul Rhaegon she let go of the saddle horn, crouching there for a moment before thrusting Dark Sister up with both hands.

Balerion's own downward momentum carried it onto her blade, and the Valyrian steel sword pierced his chest going deep into it. he screamed in agony, a sound that sent a shudder through Daenerys as she fell backwards onto Rhaegon's back, desperately turning and scrabbling at the saddle, sending the thought Away, down and away! to her dragon.

Rhaegon obeyed with alacrity, almost throwing Daenerys off but one desperate hand grabbed the saddle-horn, and gritting her teeth hanging on for dear life while Rhaegon bank away, almost colliding with the ground they had descended so much during Balerion's chase of them.

Ignoring the other dragon for now Rhaegon craned his neck to look at Daenerys, crooning softly as he stared at her, and if a dragon could look incredulous and worried Rhaegon was that dragon right then. "I'm, I'm alright," Daenerys said softly, now pulling herself further into the saddle. "That's not something I want to do again though."

Nearby Sunfyre was banking downwards as well, his own voice a louder croon than Rhaegon's as he craned his head in to make to make certain that she was all right. Daenerys opened her warg link to both dragons, sending feelings of love and relief, while she turned her body to stare at where Balerion what was plummeting downwards towards the ground behind them.

Balerion fell like a stone. By the time the Daenerys had righted herself in her saddle, Balerion's corpse was slamming into the ground at a velocity to equal any catapult thrown stone gouging a bit of the earth out with its impetus. Viserys screamed desperately clinging to the dragons neck, cutting himself on its hard scales before the impact threw him from its back to land, still living but with the wind knocked out of him.

He looked up groggily, just in time to be ridden into pulp by Daryn Hornwood, leading a portion of the light cavalry around the main battle on this flank. Daryn looked behind him, then at a few of his men, shrugging his shoulders, a somewhat embarrassed but also vindictive smile on his face as he viewed the 'last true Targaryen's' ignominious, and all together ignoble, corpse. "Oops?"

OOOOOOO

Tired, malnourished from the chase through territory they had already picked clean and now caught between the wall of Maidenpool and the approaching army, the Dornishmen stood no chance. Hundreds of them surrendered, throwing down their arms rather than fight, with Nymeria Martell urging the lords to do so, standing on the cart and shouting it at the top of her lungs while at her feet Shireen Baratheon sat, the two of them guarded by House Martell men. Nymeria hoped that the girl and her own family's connection would be enough to see her through.

Arianne however tried to rally some of the lords to keep fighting, until one of them ordered his men to take her into custody. Jorah Mormont at first tried to rally their men as well, but died from an arrow from an unknown archer of House Locke, one among many arrows in that particular assault.

Later that day Ranma and Daenerys received Nymeria in their tent. They weren't going to enter Maidenpool, not just yet. The rest of the army under Jason was barely four days behind them, prisoners and all, minus a force under Wendel Manderly, who was still hunting down the mercenaries and the men of the force from the Dornish army that had broken under the Reach cavalry charge.

When the rest of the army arrived, the lords would all enter together, a triumphal parade for the smallfolk here which would quickly spread the news of their victory well beyond Maidenpool's walls. Then too, it would allow Daenerys and Ranma a few more days to hammer out several decisions they had to make before turning their attention fully to the North.

Ranma nodded at Nymeria somewhat cordially. "The two healers I brought along say that Shireen was not abused in any way, though she is of course showing signs of grayscale. Still they're old, and it's obviously been cured so no dishonor can accrue to you due to her treatment as your prisoner. I'm not going to turn a blind eye to the fact that your family wholeheartedly endorsed Viserys' attempt to return to power, or the acts of your father down south. You realize he's signed his death warrant leading that a mercenary army?"

Nymeria twitched, glaring at him angrily losing control of her tongue for a moment. "Are you certain you can afford that? I would think this entire war would show that my house takes vengeance seriously."

"I'm certain that by the time any order I sent down to try and take him alive the man would already be dead." Ranma replied bluntly. "As to your House, part of the reparations we will demand for letting the Lords still alive among your army and their men go, is that House Martell is removed from power over Dorne. Your family's time as Lord Paramount is done, just as the Lannisters. If I have to break Dorne just as we did the Westerlands I'll do it."

Nymeria quailed a little under Ranma's grim blue eyes. "I, I understand. What, what will be my fate?"

"You and your sister, who we captured after the battle a few days ago, will remain prisoners of our House. Until your own House is removed from power in Dorne, we cannot afford to let you go I'm afraid." Daenerys said, from where she was leaning against Fenris moving her shoulders wincing occasionally.

During that brief aerial battle with Viserys Daenerys had pulled something in her shoulders. Though whether or not that happened when she plunged Dark Sister into Balerion or after when she had to hang on to the saddle horn for dear life she didn't know.

"Of course your safety and well-being will be assured. As far as we know you and your sister were not involved in any atrocities. You followed your house into its war of vengeance, but we cannot in good conscience say that you personally did anything to dishonor yourself."

"We could've done more." Nymeria said, now staring away from the two, disarmed by this bit of generosity. She had fully expected to be put to death frankly, her, her sister, and cousin. "My sister and I, we knew Viserys was insane the moment, the moment he fed one of our own Lords to that freakish dragon of his! We hid Aegon's arrival entirely from him, and were prepared to convince our lords to throw off Viserys for him, yet he was just as bad, not as violent, but just as mad, just as cruel. After that, after that we were stuck."

"Sometimes all you can do is hold on." said Daenerys smirking a little at her joke, though her tone was serious as she went on. "Chance and the impetus of fate can carry you where you'd least expect to go."

"Your cousin is a different matter. Arianne will need to be executed for her part in this war. Without her, your family would never have joined Viserys, and he would never of had the strength to invade Westeros. Undoubtedly Viserys would still have attempted something, but the odds of him being as successful, without your House's intervention, is doubtful. Arianne needs to pay for that."

Nymeria nodded her head,knowing he was correct, sighing faintly. "My sister tried to play the game of thrones and lost. I could wish that you would simply exile her to the sisters, but I can't imagine that she would last long in one of their septs. She is not made for the hard life that such would demand. Killing her now might be a mercy frankly."

"There is one question I have though." Ranma said after a moment. "One that I need answered right now. Where… Is… Littlefinger?"

"Gone. He must have learned of your trap before the fact somehow. He disappeared last night."

Ranma growled, and Fenris did too, standing up from where he had been laying down dislodging Daenerys who grumbled but did not protest overmuch. The fact that Petyr was still alive bothered both of them, given the role he had played in the battle in King's landing, along with possibly aiding Joffrey in setting up Tommen's death and hiding the bastard's identity as the Vile One, along with his designs on Sansa.

Ranma looked at his direwolf who looked back, and Ranma suddenly smiled. "Did he leave any articles of clothing behind?"

Nymeria shrugged her shoulders at the odd question. "I assume so."

Moments later some of Ranma's men had returned, with a few of the camp workers among the Dornish army, one of whom was carrying a large bag. He nodded his head at Ranma, opening it and quickly pulling out several articles of clothing. "All Lord Baelish's your highness, all left behind last night."

"Thank you." Ranma nodded taking some of the clothing from the man and holding them out to Fenris, who sniffed them, memorizing the scent.

"Hunt him down my wolf." Ranma said formally, laying his hand on Fenris' large head, which was even with his own at the moment. Hunt him down, no matter how long it takes, unless he head out to the big water, though frankly I doubt he'll do that. I bet he's heading for his family's land in the Vale. Then find me in Winterfell, he said mentally, envisioning Winterfell in his mind's eye.

Fenris huffed, nodding his head, his nose already going to work, separating the few particles of 'Littlefinger' from the background smell of the camp around them. With that the direwolf turned loping off out into the night.

Ranma watched him go for a moment, before turning back to Daenerys, while Nymeria was led out of their tent. "Now, I think we need to send a message down to the rest of the army, have them meet us up here, and let the Reach and Stormlands groups go. Then, I want a boat sent out to the Royal Navy. I've heard good things about Seaworth, and I'd like to meet the man in person. It could just be that his ships could be used return us to the North as quickly as possible."

OOOOOOO

The water was frozen, and snow was everywhere. Piled here and there becoming deeper slowly, but it was more the pervasive cold at the moment that told every Northern man and woman that winter was here.

That was far truer here than it was anywhere else. The shore of the Bay of Seals had frozen utterly, from the shore out to several leagues to nearly five yards straight down. Upon this frozen sure arrived an army, though it was not an army as anyone else would understand the term. No, these were men and women, even children, the entire population of Skagos brought across slowly by the ships Theon had left behind and the men Theon had lost.

They brought other things as well. Creatures out of legend and nightmare, their eyes glowing blue each and every one of them man and beast.

Here were undead unicorns, their inherent magic making them unusable by the White Walkers in life, but not death. Here were massive snow tigers, as larger than even a direwolf, with two large serrated fangs and monstrous claws, their minds broken and cowed. No direwolf was among them. Like unicorns direwolves could not be broken, only killed, and they were too wily to be caught out even by White Walkers.

But there were others, creatures of ice and dead body parts, homunculi horrible to look upon, larger than even the greatest beasts found naturally in nature. The most terrible of these were five massive, skeletal dragons, which flew in some fashion that had nothing to do with normal aerodynamics above the army. Where they came from only the White Walkers knew, and of course they would never tell.

The transportation process took several weeks, but by the end of it the White Walkers had a sizable army within striking range of Karhold. At some unseen signal those that army began to march, heading inland.

The ships remained behind, and men were seen moving aboard one of them, dragging out what looked like a giant frozen crystal of blue ice. As dawn broke dreary and overcast the crystal had been transported into a cave near the shoreline. There several White Walkers moved, sitting down all around, it their hands touching it gently as they began to send out their power. It would take time, but soon their power would spread far beyond the shoreline of the Bay.

The invasion had begun.

---

End chapter

Holy Bleeding Fuck. That battle was the hardest scene to get right that I have ever done, well in terms of combat scenes anyway. Normally those are a lot easier than others. But this one, with so many bits and pieces, so many sides, ye-gods it was really bloody hard.

This signals the end of really concentrating on the human enemies, at least in terms of full on warfare. Politics, Oberyn and the cleanup will take some time, but Ranma and his army are obviously needed elsewhere, so Jon and the allies he makes along the way will need to deal with them. The Others are here now, and Ranma and co. have to face them or lose everything, in time anyway.