Chapter Forty-Two

…

The North, Lands Beyond the Wall

Cold air blows like a permanent gale sending snow splattering on her face. It is supposed to be summer, but here at the forgottend lands North of the Wall, it seems to be in the throes of an early winter if the snow falling on her face is any indication. Despite it, she admits that the scenery in front of her is beautiful. Back home at Earth, seldom can one see anymore the wild land beauty untouched by human hands. Here however with tall pines and their leaves thick with snow going on and on endlessly, it is a surreal sight.

To say that Delianah is intrigued would be an understatement of the century. Down south she can feel only echoes of the magic that once pervades the land. Here North however, the magic is alive and strong. It touches everything, the stones, the ground, the plants and even the animals. Delianah wonders how such wild and uninterrupted magic affects the people that call this icy wasteland home. Would there be wizards here? She personally bets that it would be druids or at least a form of druidism if the earthen magic is any indication. Either way she's here now and she has time to explore and get her feel of the land.

"My lady, the walls are finished. The first of the riders are ready to move out," the sound of Amelia talking brings Delianah out of her stupor as she turns to the commander of the Death Dealers.

"Sorry Amelia, I am lost in thought. What did you say again?" Delianah asks the young woman as she steps down from the small makeshift tower made of wood.

"The palisade my lady, we finished putting up the walls already," repeats Amelia.

"Ahh, that's good Amelia; and also two hours ahead of schedule. I'm impressed,"

"I live to serve my lady," she bows once more making Delianah want to do an eye roll at the actions.

Suffice it to say ever since her "brilliant plant" the Green Men are being extra dedicated to her (more than usual). It doesn't help that she literally enchants every single piece of their outfits here with mild heating charms making the furs they originally brought now unnecessary. Delianah call it simply practicality, for them it's generosity of their Messiah. More than once Delianah has already overheard that one or two plan to enshrine their armor as heirlooms once they got back from this expedition. She mentally shivers at that. The power of religion over people never truly stops fascinating her.

With a wordless nod from Amelia, Deliananah finally leaves her vigil on watching the scenery and walks toward the center of the camp with the former behind her. As she looks around she has to admit that the Death Dealers of Viktor, bless his soul have done good work. A circular palisade now surrounds the landing zone with the sharpened wood strapped together horizontally side by side. A makeshift gate with bound logs are tied together with a pulley for opening and closing. At least another four towers have been added at the palisade not counting the one she is standing on before making it all five. Inside the fort are rows of white tents, heavily charmed with enlargement spells in order to maximize space, courtesy of Delianah herself.

A hundred ships have landed here north of the Antler River east of the Shivering Sea. It has not been easy making port with Delianah practically blasting rocky outcroppings with blasting spells for an hour before the place is made clear enough as a landing zone for the longboats and smaller dingys to beach themselves. Now the once clear beach are now buzzing with activity with an active fort around it supporting at least five hundred Death Dealers and a logistical staff, all either Green Men or members of the Death Dealers, people who are privy of the magic that the Lady of Rivendell is capable of.

"Are we ready for the hunt Amelia?" Delianah asks her Castellan who nods at her.

"Yes my lady, designated hunting groups are prepared and only awaiting your order,"

"Good," Delianah smiles as she sees the twenty or so Death Dealers that would be riding her for their hunt. All of them have the specially made spears and bows she has ordered made before they left from Rivendell.

"Come, let's go Amelia, the hunt awaits,"

"Yes, my lady," the Castellan of Rivendell replies obediently as she mounts her own horse though not as warm making Delianah snigger inside. A warrior through and through Amelia may be but she does not truly enjoy the things that the Knights and warriors of the Seven Kingdoms partake of. She is still a woman after all.

"Elder Marcus!" Delianah turns to the leader of the Green men who bows at her calling.

"My lady, how may I be of service?"

"Until I return, you are in charge Elder," Delianah leans down to the man though. "Make sure that the walls are always manned. We are lucky so far that no wildling has managed to attack our base, but until then keep the walls manned Elder. If my sources are correct, these palisades that we make they can easily scale,"

"I understand my lady. Until you return, no wildling will breach the walls," says Marcus proudly. Delianah only smirks at the fanatic.

"I'm counting on you Elder. Until then, hyah!" with an urge of her hands, the black horse she is riding neighs and charges forward. In a split second, the rest of the Death Dealers are riding behind her in chase.

As the wind gusts past her face, Delianah smiles as the feeling of freedom washes through her. Ever since she has come into this world and trying her damnest to establish her place, this is probably the most carefree. No expectations, no title, just the thrill of riding into a goal with the unknown waiting for her.

"WE RIDE!"

"Yes My lady!" the gaggle of voices from her retinue responds as the company increases their speed.

…

East of the Fort Landing Harbor on the Copse of Trees a few yards away from the Palisade Wall

"Look at those Southener cunts traipsing as if they own the place," hisses Lord of Bones glaring at the palisade angrily.

He has been gathering his tribesmen ever since the first boats made landfall in this area. Small bands of Free Folk also has rallied to his call. It is rare for Southeners to come beyond the Fucking Wall. Most of the times it's just Crows, yet every now and then some foolhardy adventurer or Lord would come wandering to the True North that the Free Folk call their home. It is always a source of opportunity for the Free Folk when such men come wandering about. Nine times out of ten, such folk tend to wear steel or bits of armor and equipment from the South forged from castles which is better than the bronze crafted weapons of the Free Folk. If they are extremely lucky, the fools would be bringing a lot of fancy items with them that their more….sophisticated leaders can wear or use as trophies. Cups with gems after all are perfectly nice to trade to the more vain chieftains for a bunch of weapons in exchange.

"Signal the men, we attack the East side altogether when the sun goes down. Quick and silent, leave no one alive. Understand?"

"Yes, Lord of Bones," his man replies before running off to issue his orders. Rattleshirt simply licks his lips. Tonight would be a slaughter and it would be another tally to his reputation.

…

Fort Landing Harbor

Marcus resists the urge to yawn as he checks the Death Dealers guarding tonight. The sun has just set and the Death Dealers have just rotated fresh guards for the tired ones. Already those patrolling the walls are starting to go lethargic, or as lethargic as Death Dealers can be. Marcus personally knows that the personal bodyguards of the Lady of Rivendell are still taking the bad hit to their reputation after their failed protection detail with his predecessor, Lord Viktor.

He mentally sighs, he does miss the old Elder. The man is both wise and resourceful despite his rather stern and cold attitude. He with the Lady Delianah after all established the foundation of their kingdom single-handedly. Now he is gone and it is up to Marcus as the next Elder to fulfill the reins.

In a more personal note he is glad that the Lady Delianah does not appoint him as the Castellan of Rivendell. Marcus knows that he is no Viktor, he does not have the skills or the leadership qualities that the Elder has. Sure he is very good at keeping secrets and he can maintain the discreteness that the Green Men possess which is the cornerstone of their kingdom. Ruling Rivendell however and managing its affairs? No, that's not something that he is equipped to do, even if he wants to. Amelia is more capable than handling it and he is actually glad that she is. The niece of Lord Viktor might be young, but she certainly has the leadership skills that her uncle has. Plus she cares for their lady in a personal manner. As far as Marcus is concerned, that is more important than any module of leadership or skill.

"YAARRGHH!" a high pitched scream snaps Marcus out of his musings as out of the gloom jumps a Wildling dressed in seal furs with a sharpened staff aiming at his head.

It is all he can do to catch the haft of the staff and preventing from turning his head into paste. As it is he just stumbles to the floor of the palisade and might have been bashed to death if not for a nearby Death Dealer jumping forward with a sword drawn and forcing his attacker to defend from the swift blows.

"Hold the line!" Marcus can hear someone shout as he unsteadily regains his footing before picking up a nearby spear from a rack. Below he can see dozens upon dozens of Wildlings appearing from the gloom and scaling the wooden walls with ease as if it's simply another road.

Now Marcus might not be a skilled fighter himself like the Death Dealers, but any idiot can use a spear with the proper motivation. Suffice it to say he has a lot of motivation right now for living and better, the fear of failing his Messiah.

Using the spear he whacks one wildling at the back straight to the sword of the Death Dealer he is fighting. He then rushes to the wall where a half in and half out woman is trying to get in only to be speared and sent her falling down off the wall. As she falls, Marcus can feel his heart sinking as more and more wildlings are appearing. Much more than the guards currently on the wall.

"Bring me a torch!" he hears the Death Dealer captain shouts and Marcus only has a second to realize to remember that the Death Dealers have poured pitch on the outside of the walls when they set it up after.

Below, one of the Death Dealers lights a large torch from a nearby one before rushing through the throng of the fighting, bulldozing through everyone. Form his vantage point, Marcus can see the man making it to the stairs and up the palisade before an axe slams into his chest, courtesy of a bald wildling. The man's armor protected him but the strength behind the blow sends him flying back down, torch being left still ignited on the palisade wall's floor.

"The torch!" before Marcus knows what he is doing, he finds himself crawling towards the fiery stick amid legs of the infighting men and some miracle makes it. Not wasting anymore time, he picks up the burning piece of firewood and without hesitation, lobs it off down below at the trenches.

It is like someone flipped a switch, In a matter of seconds the entire trench line lights up like dragonfire engulfing those unlucky enough on the line of fire sending them screaming to the snow as they are burned alive. Meanwhile those that are attacking found themselves cut off from the momentum of their attacks as further reinforcements are cut off. Superior weaponry and training carried the Death Dealers through the night as they easily throw off the walls the wildlings inside. For those stuck on the other side of the fire, rapid crossbow fire rate cut through them like hot knife through butter.

Come morning all that would be left of those wildlings who do not run from the attack are either charred bodies or cold corpses in the snow.

…..

Somewhere North of the Wall.

The sound of thundering hooves are heard as dozens upon dozens of Wild Aurochs, an entire herd runs in a stampede. It is not an entirely unusual sight in the North. With Polar Bears, Direwolves, Wildlings, and other carnivorous animal present that call the cold wastes home, this is basically the Aurochs defense against such invaders who are after their meat.

This time however, their hunters are different.

Riding in sleek horses of black and grey wearing ornate armor, the Death Dealer Hunters pursue their targets from behind, at least only some of them. At either right and left atop raised crags, Delianah and Amelia hems the Aurochs to the steep valley gorge where they are forced to clump with one another thanks to the spacing, their hooves leaving behind a trail of snow and mud behind them.

As she rides, feeling the wind on her face, Delianah smiles. She is excited plain and simple. She will never admit it but this is her first time hunting. To save face though, she lets Amelia take the lead. Unlike her, the Green Men and in contrast, the Death Deales have perfected the style into an art. She might have after all gleaned the information from their minds, but putting it into application is another matter. Besides, unlike fighting, the only way to gain experience in hunting is to do it.

"HYAH!" she espies one the Death Dealers at the back finally starting the first of the two phase plan that they have been applying all day to the Auroch herds. Riding alongside one of the panicking cows at the rear, he hefts his bronze spear tipped with the sleeping potion before hurtling it at the side of the animal.

With a pained grunt, the animal squeals in pain and terror as the bronze spear wounds it but does not stuck as it clatters down at the ground beneath hundreds of hooves. At the other side the herd, two Death Dealers heft multi-crossbow bolts also tipped with the same sleeping potion. With the throw of the spear, the two immediately start sending quarrels into the Aurochs behind the one marked by the one who has thrown the spear. In a matter of seconds, fifteen or so have quarrels stuck on them. Due to the narrowness of the gorge, those who are hit at the back can't panic forward thus making them do nothing but push their fellows at the front even harder.

As for Delianah, she rides with two bodyguards before looking at Amelia at the opposite side of the raised wall of the valley. The other woman just nods at her before preparing her recurve bow. Unlike the Death Dealers at the rear, the two of them have different objectives. The Death Dealers are here to knock out Aurochs to be transported down South.

Amelia and Delianah are here for fun and food.

Delianah watches as her friend observes with narrow eyes at the panicking herd below before finally deciding on the target. Slender firm limbs raise as she draws her bow aiming down. With a release, the recurve bow unleashes the castle forged arrow down.

Like a judgement from the gods, it hits its mark perfectly, embedding itself on the neck of a large male. It howls in agony at the fatal shot going bonkers for a few seconds before twisting left and right in its death throes before finally succumbing to the wound and crashing on the ground spraying mud flying all over.

Amelia just gives her a Cheshire grin making Delianah scowl. The two of hem has a bet going on and Delianah hedges on the simple fact that Amelia's shot would not bring down an Auroch. She's going to have to pay dinner to her Castellan later. As it is, it's her turn now.

Eyeing the rampaging herd below, Delianah takes in her target. While bringing down a big bull is preferable, she rather prefers if the one she eats later might be a little more tender and not all meat and muscle. Scanning the large herd, she finally zeroes in on a fat calf trying its damnest to keep up with its mother. With a mental note of "Sorry", Delianah draws her own recurve bow before aiming. She's not an expert archer like Amelia so with one of her original spells, she has enchanted the arrows beforehand that they fly true. Contrary to popular belief, it is pretty hard to shoot an arrow while riding a horse.

With a resounding snap of her bow, the arrow zones straight to the calf. A pained terrified squeal comes from it as the arrow meet its right eye before hitting the brain. Its death is instantaneous unlike Amelia's target who suffered death throes before succumbing to death. With an ugly twist the fat calf falls into the ground and spraying sand and mud also.

Delianah simply smirks at Amelia. She after all wins the second part of the bet. Amelia after all is hedging that Delianah would use two arrows, not one before she brings down her first kill.

Now all that's left is to watch the Death Dealers bring down the needed quota of Aurochs before collecting the dead two that she and Amelia has brought down to be skinned and boned for dinner tonight.

…

Fort Landing Harbor

The sound of fires cracking followed by the sound of people laughing is one of the few rare times that Amelia has heard the Death Dealers do. The professional soldiers that are the bodyguards of the Lady of Rivendell are mostly aloof after all back home. In fact now that she notices, she does not even see one of them with their guard down. Before the arrival of Delianah, they are simply the few guards that protect the Green Isle from any trespassers. With the arrival of their Lady, they have transformed from club and spear wielding experts into the lethal force they are today. Whereas once they are simply wearing makeshift armor made from leather and heavy weirwood bark crafted from fallen trees. Now they are clad in ornate practical but ceremonial armor making them one of the most lethal forces in Westeros with the exception of the Silver Order.

Currently though Amelia focuses her attention to the Lady of Rivendell. She has to admit that this "vacation" as her Lady aptly calls it is good. Ever since she has served under her, she has seen her lady work non-stop turning a ruin into a nation of men confident in its strength and traditions. Where once there is boggy wasteland where cutthroats and thieves tend to hide, now there is a great castle and house with towns beneath its rule. Suffice it to say that only a fool would not think that someone who accomplishes something like that is not worthy of service. The lady Delianah has always seen the opportunity in adversity, strength where there is weakness. Where there is nothing but barren rock and soil, she grows things. The Riverlands or at least half of it who is quite well-known as the "battlefield" of the Seven Kingdoms is now a strong kingdom in its own merit.

However with all such progress and success, Amelia believes that no one else deserves a break like the Lady of Rivendell. Myrcella has brought such notice to her during one of their sparring sessions. Say what you will of the golden princess of Westeros but she has her heart in the right place. She truly does care for the people whom she gives it to. Once she has managed to mention it, Amelia has been trying and failing to find the right time to bring it to their lady. With the war, the demand of the king of a Grand Tourney and the militarizing of Rivendell, there has been simply no time.

Now as she watches her lady, laugh with the cooks as they roast the two aurochs in a spit while showering it with juices and honey, she believes with all her heart that this trip here despite it being an icy wasteland is a good thing.

"Hey Amelia! Come! The food is ready!" her lady's cheerful voice caws making Amelia smile. At least tonight she can try out-eating the Lady Delianah and win another bet.

….

Hope ya like this Chapters Fellow Westerosi. I'll be committing a couple of chapters only to this trip to the North. Next up would be a bit more exciting compared to this chapter.