288 AC
Ryam smelt smoke, his brown hair was matted down on his forehead and screams surrounded him, he grabbed his blade and moved to leave his tent.
Once he emerged, he saw each member of their merry band engaged in combat, Marq Piper was surrounded by Edmure along with Pate both trying to protect the young lord from any more injuries as Ryam saw Marq's white shirt was now deeply stained a dark crimson.
Edmure was on the backfoot against a much larger man, He was easily half a foot taller than Edmure and wielded a large club with exacting precision. He looked like a riverman with brown hair and brown eyes, but he showed no love for his liege lord.
Edmure had to move out of the way for each coming blow, any attempt to block it or shoulder the hit would surely lead to him losing his blade, or worse his head.
Long gone were the casual smiles and smirks the Tully Lord was known for and now all that remained were worried grimaces as every attack he made was thwarted and each attack against him came closer and closer to hitting its mark.
Alton along with another riverman levy were closer to Ryam's tent and seemed to be matched more equally against their opponent. Alton had once been laughed at for keeping on gambeson when he wasn't sleeping inside city walls, but now that paranoia had paid off as his opponent had overextended hoping to smash a dirk through his ribs and only found toughened leather and plates of iron. Alton with a free hand smashed down on the man's wrist then cleanly swiped his blade across his throat.
"Ryam!" Alton roared over the song of steel swords clashing.
"We Have to Protect Lord Edmure" Ryam roared back in kind.
Edmure had stuck his neck out for Ryam and as such Ryam felt he owed him his life, damn these river bandits if they thought they were easy pickings.
A nod was given by Alton and so the two went on towards their Lord.
Pate was an elderly man to still be fighting, scraping close to fifty his strength usually was his insights gained from living so long in a profession where most die young. When provoked to fight he preferred the bow. As such when set upon a surprise attack it was assumed he would be an easy target to take quickly. As such it was a small man fighting Pate, well to call them a man was generous at best they were five and ten. They seemed no more confident in a blade than Ryam was but in this case youth seemed to beat experience.
As Ryam and Alton both jumped over debris, bodies and burnt-out fires they arrived to both Pate and Edmure fighting for their lives. Alton met the large riverlander with his shoulder giving relief to Edmure who moved to make sure the man felt harassed from all angles whilst his focus was on Alton. Ryam saw Pate was looking strained and the boys back was to Ryam and so without much thought behind it Ryam stabbed forward.
The boy saw the blade appear Infront of his chest and then disappear again. Blood started to soak into his shirt, then drip onto the floor and then pour. The Boy collapses onto the ground.
Ryam continues to stare at him, he was barely older than Ryam was, and he had just killed him.
Pate's clap on the shoulder shook Ryam from his thoughts
A solemn nod was given and some of the redness in Pate's face dissipated as he went on to join the others against the now mostly retreating bandits.
That could have been Axell's face in the dirt, maybe even Rychard's. What life had this other boy had that had led him to his. Ryam stared at the boy before fully committing his face to memory, he would not forget this for as long as he lived.
Edmure had slowly approached Ryam from behind as the sounds of steel dimmed and had gently placed a hand on Ryam's shoulder.
"Come, we need to get our wounded to Pinkmaiden's Maester and from there we can figure out how these bastards were able to exist so close to a castle"
Thankfully none of the horses had run away during the fighting, twenty of their men had spent the night here and now five of them would spend the rest of their nights here.
Five and Ten Men each constantly gazing at the tree line with weapons drawn slowly trawled along to Pinkmaiden.
As the ragged band drew closer to the castle gates, a voice cried out from the battlements.
"Halt! Who Approaches Pinkmaiden castle, Seat of House Piper!"
"The Wounded Heir of House Piper and Heir of Riverrun, Let Us In!" Edmure replied in kind.
Quickly the portcullis was raised, guards were brought out and each of them were hurried into the castle to be met with bread, beds and bandages.
Ryam once again collapsed into the bed he was given and quickly found sleep.
Ryam awoke at some point later in the room that all the men had slept in, seeing half a dozen of them still abed some with poultices on limbs others snoring and a few with bread in hand.
Neither Edmure nor Marq were here likely given their own rooms, so Ryam went to find them though as he went to leave the rooms two guards had stopped him.
"Lord Piper wants to keep all of you in the same room until Marq awakens" a gruff voice emerged from one of the guards.
"If you need to see the maester we will call for him or need more bread it will be provided but you cannot leave" the other guard had a much more pleasant voice.
Ryam turned around and went back to his bed severely confused as to why they would need to be kept in the same room and no word was given by Edmure.
Each of the other men that were awake looked annoyed now that Ryam looked at them again but none of them spoke.
Ryam didn't like this but had no power to stop it and so closed his eyes and tried to see if he could sleep some more, but this time sleep seemed eager to not meet him.