Cedric Payne

Cedric hated the sea, ocean, rivers or whatever body of water was large enough to be sailed on by galleys. As he vomited his lunch, which consisted of an orange and salted fish provided by the Redwyne boy for his crew, Cedric cursed the Lanny that he had offered his services to, and that serving woman who suggested it. He always avoided any jobs that required him to be on a ship, no matter how well paying they were. Cedric was used to fighting on land, on solid ground, not a rocking war galley where a single trip could send him to the watery depths of the Drowned god. Many knights and sellswords that had also been tricked into service avoided wearing their heavy armor, to allow them to swim should they fall overboard. Cedric was one of them, only keeping his half-helm and leather jerkin that was covered in metal studs.

"You alright coz?" Rod asked, staring at the contents that had been in Cedric's belly just moments ago. Cedric swore he saw small fishes picking at the slightly digested food which only made his nausea worse. He was able to avoid emptying his stomach once again, but barely. The worse part was that the damn stuff would linger on his tongue and in his nose, and he'd have to wash the taste out with salt water.

"Shut it, I don't need you making it any worse for me." Cedric groaned the moment vomit stopped erupting from his throat, finally able to breathe. The worst part was, Rod seemed to be immune to seasickness. No matter what remedy Cedric tried and failed, Rod would be just fine.

"But-" Rod started to continue speaking when Cedric cut him off with a wave of a hand. He already had to deal with the stares, and worse, snickering, from the Reachman and smallfolk from the Arbor that had been pressed into service as rowers, Cedric didn't need his squire joining in too.

Cedric and Rod were assigned by Ser Gerion Lannister himself to the Arbor's Delight, a two-decked war-galley that served as the flagship for the Redwyne fleet. It was a place of honor, since they would likely remain away from any combat, which was reassuring for Cedric. He wasn't confident fighting on a rocking and unsteady galley deck, even with the few days of drilling Ser Gerion imposed on them. Still, he'd accepted Lanny's coin, he was going to have to earn it. Hopefully it just meant standing around while he vomited out his guts for a few more days. The Redwyne and Hightower fleets were to block the strait off of Fair Isle, and engage the squids should they be spotted. Trapped in the strait, with no room to maneuver, and with two massive fleets on either side, hopefully the squids would be easily crushed.What a tale for Cedric's future children, about the Knight of Payne sending the squids to a deep grave.

If he didn't die from starvation since he kept vomiting up anything he ate. Gods, why did he take the offer? He should've stayed on dry land, working with the Redcloaks; they'd been looking for new officers to replace their losses from the Sacking. But noo, he listened to a serving wench and now look at him.

"They're staring at us." Rod mumbled loudly as Cedric wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his jerkin. He almost scratched himself with one of the metal nubs, wincing as the metal touched his sensitive mouth.

Cedric spotted the Redwyne boy, with wild orange hair that shot out in every direction, laughing at him. He was not going to live this down, not any time soon. Cedric had failed to impress Ser Gerion, with the Lannister only giving him a brief look due to the Payne coat-of-arms that decorated his shield, and he sincerely doubted the Redwyne boy or Ser Edmund would be impressed with a knight that could barely fight at sea. And with no chance to prove himself in combat, there was no chance of him getting a more permanent position.

"I don't care." Cedric groaned. Rodrik had gotten the easier job, protecting one of the scorpions near the rear of the war galley, alongside a score of other squires. Nobody really minded, squires were a bit young to thrust into combat, and they could still contribute.

They had been at sea for two days now, and there were still no signs of any longboats. There were grumblings among the men, that the Master-of-Ships had been tricked, or that some witchery was used. The grumbling started to grow after the Royal Fleet departed shortly after they passed the cape where Feastfire was located. And the morning fog that had settled in only made things worse. Every man on board knew that Stannis Baratheon held no love for the Redwynes after the Siege of Storm's End, so it made sense that he would leave them in reserve and steal all the glory, at least in Cedric's opinion. Not that he could blame the man, being nearly starved to death by some people would not endear you to them.

"Want an apple?" Rod continued speaking, turning his attention from the vomit in the water to the fog.

Cedric finally looked up and whipped his head in the direction of his stupid cousin. Rod was wearing a similar leather jerkin, with a short sword strapped to his side. Cedric considered throwing the apple overboard, but decided against it. He did need to eat something, and an apple was light enough it was worth the risk.

"You have an apple?" He asked. Rations were strict on board, though he could smell the crackling bacon when the Redwyne boy and Ser Edmund broke their fast earlier that morning.

"No, just wanted to know if you wanted one." Rod shrugged, earning himself a sharp glare. Cedric was about to slap the back of his head, when he was interrupted by the sound of yelling and drums bursting to life. He recognized the tone, it was one of the few they had made especially sure that all the knights would know by heart. Without turning, he barked at Rod to get ready for war. Time to kill something.

Out of the fog, emerged longboats three times the size of a normal, yet were still dwarfed by the dromonds of the Redwyne and Hightower fleets. Cedric' eyes widened slowly as more and more of them emerged, each bearing the banner of houses from the Iron Isles.

"To arms!"

Weiss

King Robert arrived two days after the departure of Lord Stannis and the fleets, in a grand procession just outside of Casterly Rock near the Lion's Mouth. Anyone who was anybody was there, with all of the Lannisters gathered at the front of the crowd of great lords and knights that had come from all over the Westerlands. Weiss stood behind the Lannister men, beside Mother who was standing beside Lady Genna Frey, sister to Lord Tywin. She was married to Ser Emmon Frey, the second son of Lord Walder Frey, who was a small, thin man with a bald head. No one would ever call her a Frey to her face, not in the Westerlands.

Weiss had a clear view of the arriving procession which included thousands of men, all bearing the banners of their houses, including those from the Stormlands, Crownlands, the Vale, and a few Riverlords. At the head was a large man, even taller and wider than Lord Stannis, wearing a fine black leather jerkin over a pitch black doublet. His hair was as dark as his clothing, with a thick beard and stormy blue eyes. King Robert was an impressive man, and looked nothing like his younger brother Stannis. He was handsome with a large grin that seemed to annoy Lord Tywin, who stood at the front of the great crowd.

Three men stood directly behind him, each dressed in white armor and white cloaks. The eldest of the three carried the king's banner, and had white hair with sad blue eyes. He was handsome despite his age, and looked tall. That must've been Ser Barristan the Bold, the most famous living knight in all of the Seven Kingdoms! Weiss had heard the stories from Ser Tylan, how Ser Barristan faced Maelys the Monstrous during the Ninepenny War, slaying the Blackfyre pretender in single combat.

The Kingsguard behind him was much younger, and gorgeous too. With long blond hair, green eyes that appeared like emeralds, Ser Jaime Lannister the Kingslayer looked every bit a knight. The rumors claimed that he was considered the best swordsman in the Seven Kingdoms, alongside Ser Barristan. Weiss hoped she would be able to face them one day. She was confident she could defeat them as she was, but then that would ruin their reputation and earn her their ire. And Weiss sincerely doubted they would agree to a duel from a seven year old girl. Perhaps when she was older and taller something could be arranged, even a sparring match could teach her so much. The third Kingsguard was fat and bald, rather unimpressive in Weiss' opinion, but he must've been competent in order to gain the position. Behind them were the great lords of the other kingdoms, each one with a standard bearee by their side.

"Your Grace." Lord Tywin was forced to speak first before their king. The men bent to one knee while the women bowed deeply at the waist, including Weiss. It felt weird seeing even Tywin have to bow to his goodson, but she relished it. No matter what, even he had to answer to someone.

"Tywin." King Robert's voice was deep, deeper than his brothers. "I'd say it's good to be back, but then that'd be a lie. What's this I hear about all your ships getting burnt to a crisp?" He was pudgier than Weiss had expected, but was still strong.

Weiss couldn't see Lord Tywin's face, but she could tell he was clenching his jaw. It felt good, seeing him so powerless before someone else. She resisted the urge to titter, a sentiment no doubt shared by her father.

"Not all, your Grace." Lord Tywin said, his voice cold. "A few ships had managed to be saved, thanks to the efforts of my brother, Kevan."

And of course he was going to leave Father out of the discourse. Admittedly, given it was on his watch most of the ships had been burned, not drawing the king's attention was a good idea, but still, it wasn't just his fault. Lord Tywin should've heard the rumors well before her Father, and prepared his vassals accordingly.

"Yet it's my brother who sails to fuck the squids instead of your fleet." King Robert started to laugh. "Bring out your bread and salt, I have a war to finish for you." Weiss had to hide her smile at that insult to Lord Tywin.

She decided that she liked King Robert.

Cedric Payne

The Arbor's Delight stayed in reserve alongside a score of other war galleys, all Redwyne ships. The forward galleys engaged the Iron fleet with a ferocity that Cedric had never seen before. Dromonds fired their scorpions and catapults, only for the longboats to use their smaller size to avoid the heavy rocks and flaming arrows. It made Cedric nervous, hearing the sounds of men fighting and drums bursting out orders in quick succession. Not at all like the fights he'd engaged in on dry land. Out here, on the sea, it felt more real, more dangerous, he supposed.

With his shield strapped to his left arm and his sword in his right hand, Cedric was starting to feel sick again, his stomach rolling like the Arbor's Delight on the sea. The war galley rocked as a catapult on the portside launched a large rock towards a longship that had managed to get past the Redwyne and Hightower ships that were ahead of them. More of the large longboats started to slip past the large Redwyne dromonds. Shit.

"Archers! Form up!" Ser Edmund bellowed from the rear of the galley. "Sound the drums, advance! Battle speed! Signal the rest of the reserves to follow."

The sellswords armed with bows moved to the front, with one or two tripping on their own feet, while more stumbled about, unused to fighting at sea. Many of them wore light armor, the heaviest being their half-helms. Cedric was able to hear his orders due being stationed near the stairway that would lead to the helm. The rest of the Arbor's Delights officers repeated his command down to the lower floors filled with rowers. On beat with the sounds of the drums, the oars started to move, nearly causing Cedric to fall onto the deck.

"Seal the gaps! Don't let a single ship escape!" Ser Edmund continued to bellow. He wore full armor, heavy chains over boiled leather with a full helm, apparently unafraid of drowning. The Redwyne boy beside him changed into a plain leather jerkin with a bundle of grapes sewn onto its chest, with a short sword fit for his size at his side.

Cedric covered his mouth and swallowed the vomit that attempted to escape his throat. The sound of the beating drums remained constant, when a longboat with an iron ram at the fore sailed in their path. Judging from the sails, it looked to be a more fancy ship then the usual longboats he'd been seeing so far. It started sailing straight towards them!

"Ramming speed! Prepare to board!" Ser Edmund yelled, gripping the railing on the upper deck. Everyone around him did the same, Cedric included, bracing for the impact that was about to happen.

The Ironborn longboat rammed into the Arbor's Delight near the fore, causing Cedric to vomit onto the wooden deck. It smelled rancid, and mixed with the saltwater that kept spilling onto the deck. A few of the sellswords fell over and into the sea with a scream. The raiders threw grappling hooks, tying the two ships together.

"Repel boarders! Swords form a wall!" Ser Edmund raised his sword in the air, changing his orders without wasting a breath. Cedric tightened his grip on his sword and widened his stance. The sellswords let off another volley of arrows before falling back, slinging their bows over their shoulders as they did so.

Cedric and a dozen other knights and sellswords with short spears slowly advanced as the raiders started to board. Cedric nearly slipped on his own vomit, but raised his shield. It felt reminiscent of his fights on dry land, just with more of an emphasis on minding his footing.

"Never resting!" Ser Edmund screamed the words of his house, yet remained behind as Cedric struggled to keep his stomach down. None of the other ships moved to assist them, engaging the rest of the war longboats that were attempting to escape the Strait. They were stuck until their allies could finish up their own prey, which meant the priority was enduring this clash.

"Rahhh!" A large Ironborn raider with an axe the size of Rodrick charged at Cedric, who raised his shield just in time for the sharp blade to deflect away. Cedric nearly fell over, but was caught by a sellsword standing right behind him. Cedric vomited on the Ironborn before his next swing nearly took off his head. The raider, a huge beast, lept back, cursing Cedric. He was a massive fighter, nearly two heads taller than everyone else aboard the Arbor's Delight.

Seasickness was not worth the single gold dragon he was paid.

Chaos reigned over the Arbor's Delight. The line that Ser Edmund had ordered to maintain easily fell once a sellsword in the center had his head parted in half. They fought well, but were not used to fighting on a rocking ship that affected their footwork, Cedric included. And unlike the sellswords, the Squids were more than used to this type of fighting. Scores of raiders had boarded the Redwyne war galley, attempting to take the dromond with their own longship still lodged at the fore and tied on by grappling hooks. The Ironborn with the large axe was still alive, yelling and screaming curses as his chain armor deflected the light swing from a short sword, failing to pierce it.

Blood mixed with the foam of the saltwater on the deck as men fell, dead or wounded. It was a slaughterhouse, the wooden boards rapidly soaking up the blood and viscera.

"Shit." Cedric muttered when the Ironborn shot him a nasty glare. He apparently held a grudge over being vomited on. The knight was leaning against the railing as a small wave rocked the dromond, trying to maintain his balance.

"What is dead may never die-!" The Ironborn charged at him. Cedric raised his blade when he felt the urge to vomit once more. He bent over to relieve his stomach just as the Ironborn went for a wide swing, dodging the attack. Cedric wildly swung his blade while he was bent over still, which the Ironborn swatted away with the shaft of his axe. "-but rises again, harder and stronger!"

"Fuck." Cedric blocked a blow from the butt of the Ironborn's axe with his shield. He should try capturing the raider, his armor was expensive and looked like it belonged to a noble house. And even if they didn't offer a ransom, he could sell the armor and weapons. Maybe some Lannisport merchant would pay for a trophy over their victory? The Ironborn's half-helm had the metal impression of a hand facing downward with lighting flashing from the fingertips, some sort of sigil. This is what he gets for not listening to the Maester talking about heraldry. How did his father know this could come back to haunt him?

A sword erupted from the large man's throat before Cedric would move, covering his leather jerkin in spots of blood. The body of the Ironborn fell forward, and with Cedric taking a quick sidestep, fell over the rail of the Arbor's Delight. A mop of orange hair appeared where the raider had been, the Redwyne boy. When had Ser Edmund committed the boy and his guards? Shouldn't he have been kept near the scorpions or catapults where the heaviest guards were? Cedric gave the Redwyne a confused stare, who responded with a mischievous wink. Still, he wasn't ungracious enough to at least acknowledge his savior, so he saluted the squire with his blade.

"Arbor!" He yelled, raising his short sword in the air, charging the nearest raider who was about to finish off a bloodied sellsword with a caved in chest. The Ironborn, who wore heavy plate armor with a scythe sigil on his chest, turned quickly, the boy's battle cry giving away his attack. Idiot, you attacked, then gave a battle cry, not the other way around.

"Hyah!" The armored Ironborn moved fast, and buried his short axe in the Redwyne boy's neck, causing his battle cry to end in a dying gurgle. Well, this is why you kept squires out of the battle if at all possible. Huh, where was Rod, now that he thought about it? Probably dead, but with his luck, still alive to torment him.

Immediately, Cedric heard the cawing of a raven, and swung his head to the right. A raven covered in drops of blood stared at the body of the slain Redwyne boy before flying off, singing its caws. It disappeared into the fog not even a second later. What was a bird like that doing here? They were in a strait, there should've been gulls! Maybe one had gotten lost on the way from one castle?

The sound of horns and drums soon overpowered the raven's song, along with some cheering from the ships around him. Holding onto the railing, Cedric finally had a chance to take a glimpse of the battle. Forget about the death of the Redwyne boy, from the north came large war galleys, bearing the banners of House Baratheon and those from the Crownlands and Stormlands. A triple decked one smashed an Ironborn longship cleanly in half, the wreckage not even slowing the mighty ship as it powered through the water.

"We won." Cedric whispered, a grin slowly growing on his face. They had won! Now all he had to do was capture a nobleman and ransom him. Though he did have the body of that raider the Redwyne squire had saved him from. Could strip the armor from that, free armor, or even just sell it outright.

Now to see if Rod was still alive.

A/N

Took a bit longer than I expected since I'm not great at fight scenes, but it's done now! The Greyjoy rebellion will soon come to an end.