Chapter 3
2,000 AC
The White Knife
Alyn stood silently, watching the water rushing rapidly down the White Knife, the sound of the water did nothing to ease his mind, nor distract him from the bustling sounds around him. Behind him the men set up a camp, placing wooden spikes around the perimeter while the tents were slowly being arranged. The smell of bread was strong in the air, an after-battle meal being prepared for the men.
Yet none of this was what was on Alyn's mind. Instead, it was his Uncle, he could not stop replaying the events in his head. Maybe if he shouted at Lord Dustin his uncle would not be injured, or even if he did not hesitate. Took ten or fifteen men from his unit and rushed to the gap, either would have seen his uncle far away from the frontline. Now his Uncle's life depended on some shaky old healer. Still, Alyn held onto any hope he could, sending a prayer to the Gods.
"Prince Alyn, Prince Bernard has called you to his tent." Alyn did not recognize the man, yet the Stark emblem on his cloak suggested he hailed from Winterfell lands.
Following the boy, someone even younger than Alyn himself towards the center of the camp. Seeing the gray tent of his Uncle's he entered, ignoring the two guards on the door. He had hoped it would just be the two of them, yet the lords seemed to have been called upon also.
"Good, you are here. I won't mince my words 'ere men. I'll be dead by sunrise." His uncle started, which made Alyn want to fall to his knees and weep. Yet it was only denial that kept him upright. "Come morrow, Alyn will be in charge of the army. As the son of our king, it will be his command by right, and let any man who contests this be accursed by the Gods."
Alyn's heart was pounding in his chest, he could feel eyes turn to him and it did not feel pleasant. "He was too young," he thought to himself, "No experience, his mind kept repeating. 'You will fail them', his conscience was saying. And yet with his dying Uncle's eyes on him. He simply nodded, exhibiting he understood.
"Good, Lord Reed double the scouts, we should expect another attack come tomorrow, if not the day after. The rest of you carry one, I will have my last moments awake with my nephew." Prince Bernard said the power the man once spoke with was no longer there. Instead, a weak tired voice spoke in its place.
"I am sorry Bernard, I saw Dusti-" Alyn got out no more words as his Uncle raised his arm.
"I know boy, I know. I was watching you during the battle. I saw you glance over, I was wondering if you would try to intervene." Bernad's eyes looked heavy like he was ready to close them yet refused to.
"But.. why did you not warn Lord Dustin then?"
"It was not his fault, boy, Lord Cerwyn was nicked on the leg. He limped away from the front lines, his men were falling back and nothing Lord Dustin could have done would have changed that. They needed morale, and only I could give them that." With Alyn not looking the most assured with that answer, Bernard continued. "We have been marching for over two weeks, during that time it has rained, we were delayed and over a thousand men did not turn up. We then started marching and got attacked half a day in, and the final straw was seeing their Lord fall, It did not matter if we were winning. It felt like a loss to them."
"So, why place me in charge? If they need confidence, surely there is someone better to place in charge of them?" That only made Bernard chuckle, and wince from the pain of doing so.
"Better? Than you. You are a Stark of Winterfell boy. Our ancestors built the wall and conquered the lands of winter. We are the only Kingdom to repel the Andals and we have done it more than once. Ignoring your blood, you are smart. You doubt yourself aye, but your planning is sound. You were made for war, nephew, just trust yourself-" The speech was interrupted by a fit of coughing, to which blood was spat out.
"It is my time Alyn, hand me that sweetsleep." He hesitated, before grabbing the goblet and handing it to his Uncle, a teary look in his eyes.
"Alyn, I do not know what the afterlife is like. But I do know one thing when I reach the old Gods' halls. When my father sees me again, he will look at me and ask. 'How did you die?', I will look him back and say 'Like a Stark, with an axe in hand defending the North.' And I'd rather die like that than hide behind the lords." With that, His uncle devoured the sweet sleep, waving Alyn off afterward as he wiped at his mouth.
—-
Bernard died midway through the night, and despite the arrow deeply embedded in his body, it was rather peaceful. The sweet sleep keeps the prince asleep the entire time, giving the aged prince a peaceful death. His body was swiftly loaded up onto a cart, and two Cerwyn men started the difficult ride to Winterfell.
An hour after sunrise the next morning, House Flint arrived, and with them came the levies of House Flint and House Woolfield. All Alyn could think when greeting them was that if they had arrived yesterday perhaps his uncle would still live. He did not voice this however, he needed Lords on his side, for these were trying times.
The biggest issue, however, was the news Lord Flint brought with him. King Arnold Stark had been outsmarted. The Ironborn sent a reaving party two days north of Deepwood Motte. The king, needing a quick victory, sent nine thousand men north, or so the report claims. Then, the Ironborn attacked From the south, Besieging the king in the wooden fort while the second Ironborn army had placed themselves between the main army and the king. It was a stalemate, Theomore Manderly did not have enough men to force his way to the king's aid, while Arnold Stark was barely defending the Motte. The situation was dire, as was Alyn's.
"Perhaps, with all due respect to Prince Bernard, someone else should lead the army. I understand the prince's final words, but was he in the right state of mind to make such a command?" It was Lord Flint who asked that the bastard had shown up late then questioned Alyn's right to lead. If the man did not appear so stupid Alyn would think him a traitor.
"I am a Prince of the realm, the blood of the Starks runs through my veins. A dozen times my ancestors have defeated the Andals, I will not break that tradition." Alyn calmly replied, still wanting to just sit there and mourn his uncle, but knowing he had to appear strong.
"A boy, as green as grass. You have never led anything before, Each Lord here is older, with more experience. Surely one of us should take command." The prick kept on insisting, while Alyn stood with his back to the entrance, Karlon Flint stood two men down at the table.
"I command this army, If you have a problem with that, take your men and leave." With that, Lord Flint huffed and took a step away from the table. Prepared to walk out before Alyn continued "However, if you leave this tent you will be an oathbreaker, to House Stark, and the North. If you walk out of this tent you will march home, but know this. When I crush the Andals, When I free my father from the Ironborn and help defend the wall. After I do all this, I will march down to your keep and have you hung for an oathbreaker. I'll end your house's line and give your seat to a second son of a loyal lord."
That seemed to make Karlon pause, before grimly nodding and accepting the situation. Alyn was pleased it was Flint acting up like this, If it was Hornwood or Dustin with these doubts Alyn was sure threats would not be enough to force them in line.
"Lord Cerwyn, you have a report for me." Was all Alyn said after a moment of tense silence, allowing the room to move forward past the awkwardness.
"I do, my Prince. Of our roughly eight thousand four hundred that fought yesterday, two hundred were killed while an additional three hundred are too injured to continue. The injured have been sent on with the late Prince Bernard. With the arrival of Lord Flint and his levies, we are sitting around nine thousand five hundred men. Of that, only two archers were killed so we still have nearly three hundred of them, and finally, we lost very few horses giving us six hundred horsemen." Which left eight thousand seven hundred footmen. Of which three thousand wielded a spear and shield, while six thousand wielded some variation of a shield and axe, or sword. The other seven hundred used halberds.
"Lord Reed, did you scout the area I asked you to," Alyn asked, receiving a swift nod.
"The men were just back earlier Prince Alyn, They say the water at that part is slow-moving, and shallow enough to allow a crossing. Yet the ground is muddy and tough to walk in, and the other bank has a slight incline." Looking at the map, Alyn moved the wooden sculptures to where the White knife splits. Placing his army between the two tributaries, yet lord Dustin clearly had an issue.
"Why would that position matter though? Surely this Willas Bluestar knight will just buy past us. He could cross the bridge over the main river towards Hornwood lands."
"I fucking hope he does, I know my lands, nowhere on my ground will there be enough food to support his army. The river there is too harsh to support fishing, they recently flooded so the farms ave nothing. The bastard will ave to keep marching on towards me own keep, If they do that we will smash em against the walls. If they turn to face us it is my cousin as my castellan, he will lead a force out and smash the Andals up the arse. Either way, he'll be fucked." Alyn was glad others were defending his idea, He did not know how well he would be able to defend it himself if every Lord disagreed with it.
"Then he'll continue to Cerwyn lands, Those waters are slow and support salmon, He can forage enough to get to castle Cerwyn." Lord Dustin persisted.
"Then it is the same thing again, but worse for him my lord. If he follows the river we will follow the opposite side. If he tries to fish we will hunt them down, if he sleeps with too few guards we will raid them at night. And if he gets to Castle Cerwyn then what? We will be right up his hole and will smash up on the walls."
"And if he attacks?" Dustin asked again, yet it was Lord Reed who answered this time.
"It was my best scouts there my lord, they know what we are looking for. When I say it is a very defensible position I mean it, The only issue would be him having more food than us, Yet even then once we cross that river there are farms and forests behind us to forage from. We also have two rivers to fish. He will have to attack or risk an assault on a well-garrisoned castle."
With that final statement, Alyn looked around at his lords. He could feel their doubts, Lord Flint looked like he wanted to be as far from camp as possible while Lord Dustin was scanning the only map of the area they had. The man was not convinced of the plan, and the fact he initially suggested sending a couple of hundred men to reinforce castle garrisons before heading to relieve the king first suggested he did not trust Alyn either. Still, Alyn knew this could work, knew it had to work.
—-
Looking at the chosen point of battle, Alyn was unsure but outwardly tried to show confidence. The river at this point went halfway up a man's shin, it was wide. Maybe twenty or thirty paces from bank to bank. It was not as good as described to him, but it could have been worse. What was better than he thought was the bank he would be defending. It was not the steepest, perhaps two horse strides from water to flat land. But it was mucky, slippy, and unstable. Watching his men, under no time pressure, slip or take small steps was what reassured him. This Bluestar would be hard-pressed, forcing the Northerns off this position. Not more than a few hundred paces down river was where the White Knife joined together, the two tributary rivers joining creating a gushing stretch of river that would be hell to cross. If the Andal tried marching back to the bridge Alyn could cross the river that led to Long Lake, cutting him off from the bridge. Following the river upstream towards Castle Cerwyn would also show fast rushing rapids, with some small bridges along the way but Alyn could contest any crossing.
"Less than a few hours behind you say?" Alyn asked Lord Reed, who merely nodded in confirmation.
"Have the men cut down any tree on the Andals side of the river. Carry them over here, I want spikes embedded around our camp, Use the smaller sticks for fires, I want the entire crossing to be lit up come night. No surprises." Alyn told Lord Reed, who simply nodded and walked to spread the orders, however was stopped in his tracks by Alyn.
"We know the Andals sacked the port towns by the sea, so they probably have enough food to make the crossing to Dustin's lands right. What if they didn't?" Alyn asked, he had realized on the short march back that he may have misjudged the Andals' current food stocks.
"He would have to defeat us then, the best farms and pastures are this side of the river. If he did not have supplies he would have to forage, and to do that he would have no choice but to attack." Walton Reed confirmed what Alyn was thinking.
"Get me your best men. They should be sneaky, good on horses, and quick. Have them cross over to us, then a few hours up the river and find a crossing for them. They are to raid the Andals' camp at nightfall, and they should only aim for food. Burn all of it,"
—-
Authors note
I should clarify I will not be following an upload schedule. I will write as I please and upload as I want. That being said this is the end of pre-written chapters, I had written this far before uploading any chapters.