Chapter 14

Bloody war is good for the gods

Standard disclaimer Mr. Martin owns this wonderful world. I'm just playing with his toys. Sorry for the delay between posts. Throught some update was better than none there was going to be more to this chapter. Will have to ben in the next one.

Asha greyjoy

Madness that was what Asha thought this was. Her father is a mad man for even attempting this plan. Her uncles even madder for agreeing with their brother. Asha cursed her father when she learnt that the fire worshipping cunts sent a raven. Asha cursed even louder when she learnt that her father even read the letter.

Her father, her stupid mad father, came up with this mad plan. Asha cursed him daily after hearing he was going to listen to those fire lovers. Every sailor in the Iron Fleet knows fire lovers can't be trusted. The fire lovers are like her dead unlamented uncle Euron, completely and utterly insane. Asha is actually glad that the mad man is dead and can no longer threaten to take her any which way he pleases.

So here she is, at the head of her fleet what little of it she has been allowed to command. It didn't help that her mad uncle Euron had taken half of the fleet with him when he went into exile. Thirty longships and ten scouting skips is all that her father allowed her to take from their fleet, not with his want to raid the north for taking Theon.

Her fleet passes the Westerlands in the dead of night, something she is increasingly glad of, Asha notices that there is a lot of activity coming from the western greenlander fleet. Too many of their war ships out on the Sunset sea. They must be on high alert in case the Iron men decide to get vengeance for that mad man. Not that they would or at least she and uncle Victorian wouldn't.

There is no force in Planetos, not even the Drowned God could force her to avenge the man that had been threatening to take her maiden head from the time that she turned six. Even when that met in the Step Stones Euron still said that her maiden head would be used to create his greatest triumph whatever that meant.

Asha is thankful that she told her captains that they would be sneaking past the Westerlands so they could plunder the Reach without them being warned. That and according to the letter her father received the Reaches army should be preoccupied in the Riverlands for some reason or another.

Asha would rather face a place lightly guarded then one heavily guarded like the Westerlands would be. Asha has sent her scout ships ahead to make sure the Shield Island Fleets won't be in their way either. She gave command of the scout ships to Dagmar for his loyal service to her father. Before dawn they would take the fleet further out to sea away from where the Greenland Fleet is and set anchor to wait for sunset while Dagmar and his crew would scout in their smaller faster boats.

They were about to leave the Westerlands and finally arrive off the Reach coast when Dagmar entered her cabin.

"Asha, the Shield Islands fleet are all in the Mander, we can either sack the islands or we can sail past and aim for Old Town, your choice." he says, flopping himself down on the chair opposite her desk and putting his boots on it while grabbing her tankard of ale.

"There's no bloody choice and you know it. My kingly father will flog both of us if we fail to go for old town." Asha says, grabbing another tankard to fill it.

"Oh there is a choice, it's called the Step Stones. Our Fleet is big enough to take Bloodstone and hold it until your father comes to his senses." Asha lets out a bitter laugh.

"Not with Aurane and the true Narrow Sea fleet in the Step Stones." a look of shock crosses Dagmar's face. "ahh so my kingly father hasn't told you of that?"

"No he didn't, care to explain why he told me the Narrow Sea Fleets had been burnt."

"Barely a sixth of their fleet was burnt, Aurane, the Bastard of Driftmark, took most of it and fled to Essos. Those that aren't from Driftmark are being used as merchant ships awaiting orders to come back." she says as she finishes her tankard. "as to why he didn't tell you, I doubt he doesn't know but he didn't tell me either one of the Crows Eyes captains came back from there with as few of Eurons ships that survived the bastard of Driftmark told me, and I'm not the one that told my father, but I'm sure one of the captains did as one of them has mysteriously vanished." Asha says with a sardonic smile.

Dagmar grew thoughtful, it wouldn't be the first time Balon did something stupid and killed a captain for bringing him bad news.

"So instead of going out into deep waters before dawn, will we keep sailing? On to Old Town?"

"yes and yes." Asha says with a sigh.

Sailing past the Shield Islands was easy. No ships there to stop them it would take another fortnight to reach Old Town from there, Dagmar is no longer needed to scout so his ships stay with the fleet.

Asha is surprised that the Greenlanders never caught on to the fact they would take their ships out into deep sea and mor them during the day before raids, or while travelling to raids.

The Iron Men have been doing this for thousands of years. Yet not once had the Greenlanders figured it out. Only if the seas in front of them are clear do they sail during the day, or when coming back from a raid. Navigation by the stars is something her forefathers had discovered.

Every Iron man worth their salt knows this skill. The fact her brother, the so-called Heir won't know how to do this leaves her in good stead to take over the lordship when their father passes. The boy was now known to everyone as a green Greenlander worthy of no respect.

In fact neither Asha nor her father ever bothered to read the seldom letters he would send, nor did they bother to send their own. Theon died the day he was taken from the Iron Isle. Now he would be too soft, too much of a Greenlander.

Three and a half sennights, it took them near on four long and bloody sennights, a full moon's turn, to get to Old Town a storm came up out of nowhere scattering her fleet, thankfully not sinking any of them. It took three days after the storm abated for all her ships to come back together.

Her fleet scattered to make sure that there would be no unfortunate crashes during the chaos of a storm the Storm God must have placed in their path to test their resolve. Asha wasn't going to let a storm stop her from taking the riches of Old Town.

Now they are here at the mouth of the Whispering sound, but they weren't alone.

"Who's fucking sigil is that?" Qarl the maid asks. The sigil in question was a fiery heart. Asha has heard of this one but never seen it before.

"It's those fire lovers. The same ones that told us to raid Old Town. The cunts are now trying to beat us to it." Asha says, gripping her Myrish spyglass in her one hand, clenching the rail of her ship in the other..

"They seem to be fighting the Hightower's. The beacon has been lit." All ways one to state the obvious, Grimtongue asks. "What do you want to do?"

"We have a bigger fleet than both of them. Hit them both. Either the fire lovers will tuck tail and run or we get to smash both of them. Signal the other ships. Tell them to attack both Fleets and have fun." Asha says after some thought. If the fire cunts thought that they could back out of a deal they made with Iron Men then they would be crushed in a sea battle.

Asha didn't bother trying to get her fleet into an attack pattern. It didn't matter when the enemies weren't in any formation. The catapults on her fleet start firing either rocks or flaming pitch.

Both Fleets opposing her couldn't break off from each other. But some did turn to hers and start trying to counter attack. Asha orders her men to start using the scorpions and to aim for the hull or the main masts if they thought they were good enough. This plan is working, and working well the fire worshipping cunts are trying to disengage with the Hightower Fleet.

Both of the opposing fleets are taking heavy damage fifteen of the Hightower Fleet was sunk or disabled to the point they could no longer fight back. Ten of the fire bastards' ships sank while the rest desperately tried to disengage with fighting. Some of her captains even got bored of attacking the opposing fleets and started raining rocks and lit pitch balls on the city. If not just sailing straight to the city.

Everything is going perfectly until Harris Harlaw goes and does something stupid, well maybe not so much stupid as crazy or utterly insane. Asha didn't even know where he got the stuff. Harris starts using his catapults to throw wildfire at the enemy Fleets. Since enough of them are already burning the jars that start raining down on them explode on contact.

Plumes of green fire scatter the other two Fleets. The fire lovers not loving this fire actually manage to fully disengage and flee out of the Whispering Sound. While the Hightower fleet try to pull themselves back into some kind of order.

Asha looking over at the Harlaw fleet can see a man laughing on the deck. It must be Harris the mad cunt. Almost as bad as her dead uncle. He must be looking to replace him as the Iron Mad Captain. Just not stupid enough to talk about wanting to bed her. Asha can see that his men are still loading and firing wildfire and the Hightower fleet.

"Get over there and tell him to stop. We still need to make it to Old Town without burning our fleet." Asha says to Fingers. A nod from the man before he runs off to the side where a long boat is lowered for him to make it over to the Harlaw.

Less than twenty minutes and the sea battle between three Fleets is over. Asha doesn't know if she should be happy or not. Her Iron Born didn't have a chance to get the blood lust out of them. Which would make them raid harder, but that could also mean that the Reach comes after them hard.

Asha in the end just shrugs and orders her ships to deal with the last of the Hightower's fleet before making their way into Old Town.

The night fell as Asha and her men landed. Hordes of bloodthirsty reavers hungrily descended on both shores of the Honeywine. With barley a new moon in the sky, and the sun no longer illuminating the sky. The starlight was blocked by thick black clouds. Slowly but surely, thick fog began to creep in from the west and envelop the city mixing with the smoke from the burning buildings. Though it was common for fog to appear in the Whispering Sound, the orange tint to the fog gave it an eerie feel. Asha isn't used to feeling uneasy during a raid.

The torches and Brasiers scattered around the city burn with muted fire, scarcely lighting a scant few metres in the surrounding darkness. In the misty darkness, only a single light flickered weakly from the direction of the Battle Island. Atop the Hightower the beacon burned fiercely with green flames. The Hightowers calling for reinforcement.

Making her way through the streets with her crew, Asha is feeling dread. Even with the Iron Men spreading out through the city she felt something was wrong. Besides the fact that idiot Harras has joined with her crew, wanting to take the grey rat's house and burn it with wildfire. He had two fucking jars with him.

The mad glint in his eyes worried Asha. Especially when those eyes start roving over her body. The bells warning the citizens of the raid continued to ring, but the more worrying thing was the HighTower no longer has a green flame but a blue one. Asha has no idea what blue fire means. In the time that they have been in Old Town she has only come across three groups of guards, Asha thought that the Hightowers protected their people better than this.

Another group of guards come into view, all they accomplish is delaying them from their target. A block from her shield followed by a thrust with her sword and one is down. Pivoting while slashing she got the one trying to sneak behind her. Another fool comes running at her, the only thing that accomplished was her skewering him on her sword.

Six Asha kills herself, as well as back handing Harras when he got too close to her. Two more bridges stand between them and their goal. Both with at least twenty guards each. Not enough to stop them but enough to slow them down more.

That's when she finally notices what's wrong. Where are the screams? The loose gravel on the street starts to shake. The women should be screaming, so should the children. There was nothing but the clang of weapons, and the grunts of men dying.

Then she hears it. The steady thump thump that only a lot of heavily armoured horsemen. The chivalrous Knights of the Reach were descending on them.

Then the war horns start, and Asha realises how fucked she is. Hitting Harlaw over the head with the butt of her sword Asha turns and starts running for alleyways.

Garlen

A week has passed since his wedding. Getting to know the princess was a challenge, not because she wasn't making time for him, but because she spent most of her time with the onion knight or the holy knight. He isn't going to interrupt the only comfort that she has for his own desire to get to know her.

Knowing her isn't important right now, there would be time for that after the war is over. There is one thing that is worrying him. Her new obsession with the dragon eggs that the onion knight stole for her from King's Landing. The eggs are stone. He would know as he took a look at them while she was sleeping one night and they were nothing more than solid stone. No heat, no movement, nothing. Yet she talked to them every night, she even placed them in the fire every night before she went to bed.

These concerns however are no longer on his mind. Willis just entered the room looking more worried then the time when they had been caught by their grandmother putting sheep scat in Loras' bed.

Garlan motions at the seat in front of his desk, knowing that Willis' leg didn't like standing for too long.

"Garlan you need to take whatever of the army is here and leave for Old Town. Oberyn has sent me a letter. Read it." He says thrusting the letter at Garlan.

Willis

And your Granny, yes you, you old bat I bet you're reading this and heavily frowning, was i right. The fire loving cunts have passed by The Tor. They are hugging the coast so I expect to hear of them passing the Water Garden soon before Sunspear and Shadow Town sees them.

I shall send another message when I see them passing Sunspear. As I have no doubt they are heading for you and not me.

Your best of best friends

Oberyn

Ps Willis love you must come see us when this dreadful war is over to celebrate the fall of a mountain and lions. Love Ellaria

Looking up from the letter Garlan looks at Willis before seeing a second one couches in his hand.

Willis

I am wroth you let that withered rose answer instead of answering RUDE.

If I didn't like you as much as I do and if I thought I could get away with it without my daughters and love murdering me in my sleep I wouldn't be sending you this.

He's exaggerating he was writing this as soon as he saw them.

Yes well as you can no doubt tell from Ellaria's lovely penmanship the fleet just passed Shadow Town. Willis I counted 30 ships full of dickless boys.

Unsullied

Unhelpful he knows what I mean, why am I arguing here instead of to you. Stay safe, send an army.

Oberyn and Ellaria

Resisting the urge to smash his head against the wall Garlen looks at his older brother and sees this time a scroll in his hands. Groaning, he reaches for it.

Lord Mase

The idiot reavers have a fleet that passed Oakenshield today heading toward Old Town I presume.

Have sent correspondence to Lord Hightower.

Lord Hewett.

"Did grandmother give you Oberyn's first letter?" Garlen asks

"No but she did send one to grandfather warning him. She apparently wanted to wait until we had more men here to send. I just hope you aren't too late to get there before either fleet gets there." he responds sitting

"Do they always send you letters like that?"

"Yes and usually grandmother doesn't read them but with the war she wants to be on top of everything. The letter from Lord Hewett arrived today on his fastest ship so the Iron Born must have only passed in the last day or two. At the pace you will no doubt ride at, it will take you two or three weeks to get there." This time a groan did leave Garlens lips.

"We won't make it in time to stop the scum unless they have bad luck and bad weather. Seven hells what was grandmother thinking. If she had given me Oberyn's first letter we would have been there before those pirates." He says before he starts swearing in every language he knows.

Standing and leaving his solar he races down the halls to his Grandmother's rooms. He can hear the tap of Willis' cane fading behind him. Not even waiting for his guards to announce him, he bursts into his Grandmother rooms.

"What in the seven hells were you thinking not telling me of Oberyn's first letter!" startled by him yelling, Olenna looks at her grandson.

"I was thinking of giving the army more time to arrive."

"Well good fucking job now we won't be there when the fucking Iron Born get there!" Garlen yells as he hears his brother enter. Olenna has an affronted look on her face.

"First I am your grandmother do not take that tone with me. Second, how was I meant to know they were on their way." She says in a huff.

"You made me a King. Now I am going to act like one. From now on if you have any information about the war you will give it to me when you get it. Do you understand?" Another huff was all the answer that Garlan received. With a growl he looked at Willis.

"Very well then. As King Regent until either King Stannis regains his senses or Shireen comes of age I hear by decree that Dowager Lady Olenna Tyrell nee Redwine you are hereby forbidden from receiving communications outside of your immediate family member until this war has come to an end." Garlan turned to Willis. "Acting Lord Tyrell I task you to make sure the Dowager Lady complies with my edict." He says as he strides from the room. Seeing both Arryk and Erryk standing by the door.

"Both of you are to rally the Knights, Lances, and any other mounted men at arms. We must make haste to Old Town and both of you are coming I need the best to beat back both the Unsullied and the fucking Iron Born." Both men took off down the hall to make preparations while Garlen walked to his rooms to equip himself for war.

Packing a small bag of underclothes and tunic, Garlen made sure to have his squire pack his spare armour after strapping him into his best set. Armour and weapons checked and equipped garlen makes his way out to his men yelling orders to make ready to depart in the next hour.

Sending for Shireen, Garlen waits for her in the entrance hall closest to the door leading to the gardens. Once she arrived he could see the worry on her face.

"Worry not my wife, I will return to you. We will save Old Town then take the chance to save your father and bring the kingdoms back to sanity." he says with a charming smile on his face, trying to bring a smile to his child bride's face. Shireen did blush a little so he counted that as a win. Even if he has no feelings for her now, he hopes some will grow.

"I will always worry about you so long as we are wed husband, I would ask you to wear my favour, and hope that it will protect you and bring you home safely to me." Shoreen says a little awkwardly while holding out a ribbon that has been embroidered with a crowned stag surrounded by golden roses.

As a personal standard this wasn't a bad one. It is also one that his new wife must have put some thought into. If nothing else it is the thought that goes into a favour that is what is to be respected. Holding out his arm to her he waited for her to tie it onto his wrist.

With a large smile on her face Shireen hurried to tie the favour on Garlens wrist. Not allowing her to step back, Garlen steps forward, capturing her face between his hands. Placing a gentle kiss first on the scarred side of her face then her unscarred cheek. The blush spread on her face. Garlen steps back from her.

"I know there is no love yet but we are young and I am told that comes with time and care much like a garden. Fare thee well wife, I shall see you when I return victorious." Garlen turns from her before leaving the keep.

Exiting the building he sees that his diligent squire has his favourite war horse Thunder, waiting for him. Riding out into the camp seeing that it was mostly mobilised he leads his men towards Oldtown.

Having sent word ahead to the keeps in between Highgarden and Old Town to have fresh horses available and being able to switch out his own war horses kept him from killing many good horses to get to Old Town in the three weeks hard march that he forced his men into.

No matter the weather Garlen pushed his men in a relentless march to try and reach Old Town in time. Two days into their march the weather had taken a turn for the worse. Garlen was thankful for the weather change as he knew no matter how bad it is on land it is ten times worse at sea.

So with a fierce storm raging around them they rode on. On to Old Town to save the small folk from either zelots or scum. At one Keep two senight into their ride there was a clear view of the sea. Though he saw no ship sink he could tell that the fleet that was trying to sail down the coast had scattered; this gave Garlen hope that they could, at the very least, beat the reavers to Old Town.

Upon arriving at Old Town and being greeted by his grandfather Lord Layton Hightower, Garlen found out that he had not both fleets to Old Town but only just as the Iron Born had only just entered the city after having beaten off the zelots.

"Garlen due to your warning all the women and children are in the caves, so don't hold back there's no one innocent to get in the way." his grandfather said with a smile. "Your Uncle is on the other side of the city with our men." Rallying his men while leaving enough men behind to guard the train, Garlen entered the city. As he enters he sounds his war horn

There are things they don't tell you about battle when they first start training you one of those things is that a lance is useless in a city, Garlen knew this having left his at home he used his sword to cut down any Iron Born unlucky enough to come across him while he was on his rampage. Every now and then when he saw no close enemies he would blow his horn to keep his mens spirits up.

Each time he came across a new group he would ride through them swinging his sword on the left and right of his horse. No technique, no finesse, just brute strength and stamina. He couldn't stop while in the middle of the group not at the risk of being dragged from his horse as he has seen many have this happen to.

Iron Born were too stupid to learn not to cluster together and make themselves easy targets. Most iron born didn't have the right type of weapons to work against the heavy armour of the Knights in his forces.

Another thing they don't warn you about is how loud fighting on horseback is when galloping down cobbled roads with houses on each side. The sound reverberated back off the walls increasing the volume of the hoof beats. No wonder some complained of a pounding head after a battle in a town or city.

The sounds of war all around him only increased the pounding of his heart reminding him that he is alive and to keep fighting. There has to be an end eventually. The reavers aren't literally spawned from the waves. Eventually the idiots would run; they always run in the end.

Group after group fall before him and the handful following him. They left the broken or dead men where they fell thankfully none of the men following him fell. This unprovoked attack from the IronBorn would not go unpunished.

Only one fight stood out in Garlens mind. He knew that he was facing one of two reavers, either Harlaw or Drumm; it mattered little. It had been his chance to claim a sword of legends, one from old Valyria. The man was already staggering when Garlen found him. Taking the sword had been easy, the man's head rolling down the street ensured that.

Four hours after the sunset the streets of Old Town ran red with blood being directed into the gutters which would lead out into the sea. Most of the attacking Iron Born lay dead in the streets and few managed to escape. According to some of the captured Asha Grayjoy was leading the attack. Some had even seen her fleeing the battle with some of her men.

This situation left Garlen feeling uneasy about leaving Old Town to join the fight, just in case that iron bitch came back. Not that the iron isle are meant to have a fleet much bigger than that. His squire runs up to him, holding a wet rag and a jug of water while Arryk and Erryk walk slowly behind him.

Taking the rag wiping his face before handing it back and taking the jug before shooing the boy off and turning to his grandmother's twin bodyguards.

"What's the butcher's bill?" Garlen says before taking a drink.

"Of the fifteen hundred light cavalry two hundred are dead, three hundred wounded. Of the six thousand armoured Knights thirty are wounded non dead, the nine thousand heavy cavalry, sixteen hundred lancers and two thousand mounted archers lost none and none wounded. Overall this was a good fight." Arryk says after bowing.

That is a better outcome than he was expecting. But then it was just the reavers not the unsullied for which he was thankful for or it might have been much worse. Nodding and handing the jug to one of the twins.

"I'm going to go talk to my grandfather and word needs to be sent to the Arbour about the Fiery cunts fleet might head their way. While I'm gone, get the men ready, we will camp for the night. It's time we enter this war. Back to High Garden to gather the rest of the army then on to the Riverlands." Both men bow as he leaves them there on the street.

The conversation with his grandfather was unproductive and only slightly enlightening. He was presented with a choice, leave Old Town only to have to return again since the remains of the zealots fleet are out there somewhere, as well as Asha Greyjoy's and the portion of her fleet that managed to flee. Or stay and wait for word from the Arbour and the Redwyne Fleet. Having sent letters off to the Arbour, his wife and brother, Garlen left the Hightower to go to the camp his men were setting up on the outskirts of Old Town.

Darklyn

The fleet that he is leading has anchored just off The Whispers for the night, Darklyn decides it's a good time to do his nightly prayers and his fire watching. Despite what Moqorro claimed, Draklyn is good at fire sight. His predictions came right more than Melisandres.

After all he had been right when he told the High Priests that Melisandre would fail to keep her chosen Azor Ahai in line and would need Kinvara. Not long after Kinvara left he also foresaw her death, again he wasn't listened to. So he started to keep the things he saw in the fire to himself.

As usual he starts his fire sight in the heath in the ship's main cabin. Looking into the fire he sees himself on a ship sailing past the Runestone, then a great storm starts and one by one ships sink, the last being the one he is on.

Watching more to see if R'hllor will give him a way to save his men he is rewarded with the sight of him on a ship sailing around Crackclaw Point and down the Sea of Crabs, his ship anchoring at the port of Dyre Den and waiting out the storm in the castle.

As small as the port of Dyre Den is it will be large enough for most of his fleet and those that don't fit will be more than safe enough to anchor close enough that the storm shouldn't bother them too much.

The next morning telling the captain to change course for Drye Den was an effort as the man didn't want to listen.

"If we keep sailing like we have been told to, we will end up trapped in a storm, every ship sinking. Do you really want the sea to be your grave?"

"Moqorro warned me about your faulty visions." Captain Markus says.

"Moqorro just doesn't want to admit I'm better than him. Do his words not remind you of a jealous fool?" Darklyn asks, truly wanting to know if others saw it too.

"If I end up getting put on the pyre because of you I'll be bringing you with me." Captain Markus says, before nodding and walking off to change course.

Less than a day after being at Dyre Den the storm hits just as bad as he had seen, thankful that he is safe in the castle, Darklyn wonders if he should give a sacrifice. Thinking better on it after noticing that none of the people around him were followers of the lord of light, Darklyn decides on seeing if his lord has anything else to show him.

Retiring to his room for the evening glad that it has a hearth he pulls up a chair in front of it. Steering into its depths he sees something interesting, a battle at a place marked by deer antlers, he sees the Bronze three pointed helm of the unsullied surrounded by Huntsmen, Roses, Apples, White Suns and Golden Trees. Then the helms falling to the ground bleeding and not getting back up.

After seeing this Darklyn realises that its symbology and he need to work out what the deer antlers mean or where it means. Leaving his rooms he goes to the maester's rooms.

"Do you know of a place that would be represented by deer antlers maester?" he asks. The man looks up for a moment before replying.

"That could represent Storms End, the home of the Durrandon lord, or it could be a representation of the actual name, Antlers ruled by house Buckwell. I thought you were banned from fire sight while here by Lord Brune?" the maester says.

"It was a dream, we have learnt to take those as seriously as the fire sight. Gifts from the lord of light aren't to be thrown away." Darklyn says lying. Something he was becoming better at thanks to Moqorro taking away much of his authority.

It takes a month for the storm to clear out enough for them to continue on. During that time waves taller than the highest mast on his ships could be seen out in the Narrow sea. It isn't even safe to go down the Bay of Crabs as the waves, while smaller, were big enough to smash ships upon the cliffs.

Captain Markus gave a report of 3 downed ships due to the storm. The man has become reverent of his skills now. So this time it is easier for Darklyn to tell the captain their new course was to Maidenpool, not continuing on to the north.

Captain Markus doesn't even ask why, he just went to inform his men of the change of plans. Something Darklyn is grateful for.

Boarding the ships to leave, Darklyn notices a Raven leaving Dyre Den, even if it is to the enemy it doesn't matter as his forces will help the Unsullied win the day. Six thousand of the fiery hand travelled with him. Between them no force could stand.

Even if he is slightly angered that he didn't receive more men. Darklyn understood why fifteen thousand needed to go to the Reach, as the Reaches army is said to be very large, what he didn't understand is why eight thousand needed to stay in the capital, less than half that would be able to keep the city under control. Just one more slight from Benerro or Moqorro.

Bonifer

Bonifer sits with his princess in the gardens with the dragon eggs in front of her. Since her husband went off with the army to save Old Town. This time is different then all the previous times that he has sat with his princess. This time it was not just him, Ser Davos had also been invited to this meeting.

"Princess?" Ser Davos says after they have been sitting for an hour.

"I'm sorry Ser Davos, Ser Bon I have a lot on my mind right now. Not the least of which is my hope that my husband returns victorious. The letter from the Shield Iles along with the one from Prince Oberyn weighs heavily on me." Princess Shireen says before standing and pacing back and forth. Bonifer looks at Ser Davos then nods to him.

"If there is anything that we can do to take some of the stress off you we will do it." Bonifer says smiling to the girl. Her head snaps up towards Bonifer before a look of contemplation comes over her face. Princess Shireen's pacing stops as she looks at both men.

"There is one thing that I would like you to do. It will probably take both of you. I'm not sure if you should take more men. I just don't know." Princess Shireen says before flopping herself down on the ground.

"Well it might help if we knew what you wanted us to do." Ser Davos says with the ever patient smile on his face.

"Ser Bonifer told me something moons ago. I haven't been able to get it out of my head. Only death can pay for life. While I will not sacrifice one of my own men, not even to bring dragons back. I can and will sacrifice someone if I have to. They won't leave me alone." she says as tears start tracking down her face. Ser Davos sits down next to her and pulls her into his arms. Being the ever supportive man that he always has been.

"Who won't leave you alone? Whoever it is Ser Bonifer and I will make them regret it." Ser Davos says, rubbing her back.

"It's the dragon eggs isn't it Princess?" Ser Bonifer asks, only to receive a nod back. Ser Davos looks into the Princesses eyes before looking at him. "Princess Rhaella had an egg, it was one of the seven eggs at Summerhall. She used to tell me that the egg talked to her, screamed at her for blood, for fire, for her to wake the dragon. It's half the reason I think Aerys went so mad, he had a dragon egg too. I'm sure when it stopped talking to him he lost a part of himself, just like Princess Rhaella did. Are they talking to you Princess?" he received another nod. "Who do you want us to take?"

"You can't be serious." Ser Davos says. "It's one thing to use death to make life, it's another to say that the eggs are talking."

"Ser Davos, it's true. They talk to me all the time. Less now that I have been giving them my blood." Princess Shireen says in a timid voice. Ser Davos looks down at her still in his arms, he tightens his grip momentarily, before he lets her go and pulls up her sleeves.

"Has anyone been tending to your cuts?" Ser Davos says a frown marring his face.

"That's not important now, Ser Davos. Our princess has a task for us and we will complete it for her." Ser Bonifer says while looking at his Princess.

"I want that Red Witch that took control of my father. She has magic in her blood; it should hopefully make the dragons more powerful." Shireen says, looking at the ground. A scowl crosses Ser Davos' face.

"Princess?" Ser Davos' asks.

"Abduct her. Bring her here. We will see if she likes the fire as much as she claims she does." A hard look on her face. The princess stands and leaves the garden.

Ser Davos stands before turning to Bonfer. A scowl on his face and hands behind his back. Opening his mouth then closing it several times before shaking his head straightening his spine and speaking.

"I swear to the seven if you are filling her head with dung then I'll kill you myself." resolve burning in Ser Davos's eyes.

"I assure you, I am not. Not many remember that I tried to marry Rhaella. If she had asked for it I would have taken her out of the Red Keep and ran as far from her mad family as we could." Bonifer says back face devoid of emotion.

"Very well. We need to go to the Kings Wood where I know of a few smugglers' coves. There should be a skiff there for transport of goods to King's Landing. I'll get you to King's Landing, to the entrance of the tunnels I know of but I won't go back to that keep. My advice knock the witch out then dose her with the milk of the poppy." Ser Davos says before turning to leave.

"Agreed Ser Davos, I see no need for you to join me in the castle. I know of an entrance that leads up to the black cells. If you get me there we may be able to take any valuable prisoners they have." Bonifer says with a grim look on his face. Ser Davos nods before leaving.

The trip to Fawnton took less than a sennight going up the Mander river. Three days of riding through the Kings Wood before they reached one of the coves Ser Davos spoke of. The man has been recalcitrant through the whole trip up until this point. Once they reach the ocean the man's demeanour completely changes. He went from uncomfortable to a man at home in his surroundings.

Bonifer knows Ser Davos won't fail their princess even if he doesn't believe in the mission nor does he want to take part in it. Bonifer believes that it's because of his punishment from King Stannis that makes the man shy away from it. When you get punished for doing the right thing the wrong way. Stannis was born too hard and nothing softened his hard edges.

A day and a half on the skiff makes Bonifer remember why he hates sea travel on small boats. The waves had been terrible. Once in sight of King's Landing Bonnifer does his best to guide Ser Davos to the cove he once found with his princess. It is different approaching the cove from the sea. The unusual duo made their way silently up from the waters edge while pulling the boat out of the water line.

It was a short and uneventful trip into the black cells from the cove. There wasn't a single guard on the lowest and darkest level, where the passageway let out. In the cells closest to the passageway they found a sight they didn't expect to see. Lord Monford and his son Monterys, father and son holding onto each other. Bonifer gestured to the two men and Ser Davos got to work with the lock on the door, while Bonifer searched the rest of the cells before proceeding onto the higher levels.

Sneaking up on the guards the red priests set was child's play. Snapping their necks and dragging them into cells making it look like they were sleeping prisoners easier than breathing. Only two other cells had anyone worth saving. Both children of lords in the Riverlands. Sending both children down to the smuggler, Bonifer moved on.

Up and up he went killing the guilty prisoners so they didn't make a sound alerting the guards to his presence. Those who were innocent once he reached a higher level he sent them off down another passageway that would lead out into the city. Once he left the Black cells he slowly made his way through the Red Keep.

It turned out to be easy to find her. She didn't even bother changing rooms since the last time he had been in the city. Sleeping soundly in the bed. Easier than any other job he had done. The Seven shine down upon him this day. If nothing else, how easy this mission has been shows him that this is the right path to take.

Pouring some sweet sleep onto a rag and holding it over her nose would ensure that she would stay asleep for at the very least a full day and night. Wrapping her up in her own sheet Bonifer threw her over his shoulder and made his way back to the Black cells.

Twice along the way he hid rather hastily after hearing approaching footsteps. Bonifer makes it back down to the cells before the next shift change or anyone went to speak with the Red Witch. Looking at the skiff they had he noticed that it was only just big enough for everyone that they rescued or abducted. It seems smuggling was a job for a small crew.

"Thank you Bonifer." Lord Monford says holding his hand out for Bonifer to shake. Bonifer takes the man's hand. The two men having met many times in torneys. Davos is a well known man to the Lord of Driftmark.

"It was on the orders of our Princess that we were there in the first place. It is her you should be thanking." Bonifer turned to the two boys he recognised but couldn't name. "What are your names, lads?"

"Lukas Blackwood and this is my foster brother Arrond Piper." the older of the two boys said.

"Right well I reckon both you boys will be coming with us. You two too, if you wish my lord." Ser Davos says as he is steering the skiff away from King's Landing, further into the Blackwater Bay as they become surrounded by the early morning fog. The little sail on the boat doing enough to push them out of sight of the city swiftly.

"I'm guessing you're not going anywhere close to Driftmark, and I do wish to thank my Princess in person, to congratulate her on her wedding as it were." Lord Monford says nodding his head. Lord Morford looks around the deck for anything he could wrap around his son and the two boys. Spotting a few sacks and spear canvas sails thinking better something than nothing he wrapped the three boys before settling in and letting the skiffs rocking settle him.

Tormund

Coming across the tracks of over a hundred thousand free folk wasn't hard making sure that it was their friends and not a hoard of the dead was the hard part. One of the singers who is a warg with a tiny bird scouted the tracks to make sure that it was the right group.

Catching a large group of people traveling is easy. It's making your way through the masses to the people to find the ones in charge that annoys Tormund. The bitching and moaning of his fellow free folk grated at Tormund's ears after moons of being away.

"It's as if they don understand that we are runnin. But no it's all, why are we walking this far, and why isn't there more food? Complain, complain that's all it is. All it's been since we caught them." Ygritte mumbles beside him. Tormund and one of the singers within ear shot snort at her words.

"They can't help it, Ygritte. They aren't apart of the commands so many of them will know nothing bout what's goin on." Tormund says softly as they push past more free folk.

"Yea that's true Tall Talker, but every single one of them knows the dead be comin." She says giving him a pointed look before walking off in front of him.

It took them an hour to find Mance. In that time the march had come to a halt and everyone started to set camp. Tormund notices at once that the clan leaders and Mance are planning something. From the glint in the Lord of Bones eyes it was either going to be violent or against the white shadows.

Every clan chief that joined Mance is there with him, even most of their seconds are there. Not a normal situation as most chiefs leave them to settle their people while the post march meeting happens.

Most of the Female chieftains stood off to one side of the gathering, it was easier to spot which ones decided they didnt want to be a part of what was happening, from those already beaten. Standing with them Dalla and Val, Dalla waving cheerily at Tormund while Val just tilts her chin up and looks away from him.

While the rest of the chieftains stood together in the time old tradition of a measuring contest. Their conquests, not their members, only southrons do that weird stuff. Whether it be against the crows, other clans or just women they have stolen. When all of the chieftains finally notice Tormund's arrival they all stop their contest and turn to him wanting an update.

"We will have a talk tonight about everything that has happened since you two left but for now I take it your mission was a success?" Mance asks as Tormund claps him on the back while he smiles at Dalla and Val more lecherously. Val looks at Tormund before rolling her eyes and walking off.

"It went well enough. But somehow I feel like I just got back to leave again?" Tromund says while crossing his arms over his chest staring at Mance. As Mance walks closer to Tormund most of the less nosy chieftains decide to leave or start giving orders to their seconds.

Those too nosy for their own good include Harma Dogshead, Morna Whitemask, Lord of Bone and the Weeper eagerly watching, while Crow killer and Six Skins pretended to have a conversation off to one side. Dalla walks up to the two men while laying her hand on Mance's arm.

"That's because you just might be if you get voluntold to." Mance says with a cheeky smile on his face. Tormunds eyes grow flinty at these words and Ygritte next to him flexes the hand with the damn fire bracer on. Putting his hand on her arm Tormund steps forward.

"Talk fast." Tormund says as the scowl on his face threatens to turn into a grin. He couldn't help it, not with the huntress he stole from Crow Killer preparing to stand up for him so fiercely.

"We know whatever you got from that cave will help with what we want to do. More than that is that we have been told we need to keep the walker alive or the whites it controls will die and become unusable for other Walkers until the Night King can get to it." the cocky grin still on his face. "We got a report of some groups of them following behind us. We are a moon from the wall."

"Aye, I know how damn far we are from the wall."

"Aye, you're not an idiot. I want you to make a distraction, give us a week to get our people ready for a run to the wall then you do a snatch and run." Tormund doesn't like these words, it sounds too much like him playing bait.

"That sounds a hell of a lot like I'm about to be playing bait. There are so many issues with that plan." The look on Ygrittes face matches his. Completely unimpressed with the man.

"Will you come have dinner with us and listen to the plan first? Both of you?" Tormund looks at Ygritte, she nods to him.

"This is a shit plan Tormund." Ygritte says from her perch above him. They comendered an abandoned village to stage the first part of their plan to give the free folk time to run to the wall.

The giants agreed to have their mammoths carry the supplies of the camp as Mance and the other clan chieftains put their people through a hard march. While there people moved, it was his job and the two hundred other men and women's jobs to distract the walkers dogging their trail.

The two hundred had been then split into four groups of fifty under three other clan chiefs. Crow Killer, Styr Magnar of Thenn, and Morna White Mask all in their own separate villages acting as smaller groups of refugees.

Dragon glass weapons had been distributed to the volunteers before they left the main column. Each that has a specialty got fitting weapons, arrow heads for the archers, spears and daggers for most of the rest, the few experienced with axes got one of the few that the singers had been able to craft.. Tormund kept the sword from the abomination under the tree.

The hope was that they would appear as a much smaller group, so the walkers wouldn't commit more whites than they could handle, and once the walker sent in the whites they would set the village alight and run as fast as they could only to repeat the following night.

This is the first night. The nerves are already showing and the sun has only just set. Tormund looks up at the girl he thought of as one of his own.

"I know but don't say it too loud, the others dont need to know it. It could work. If not you use your fancy kneeler magic glove and fry them." he says only just loud enough for her to hear him. "We only need to last long enough for the signal from Willow to come."

"I hope we don't lose too many before that time comes. We also know this plan isn't going to last long, they aren't going to fall for it more then tonight we need another plan Tormund." he voice floats down from her spot on the support beam of the roof.

"That's if they even attack tonight. Acorn says they arent near any of our groups but that they are closing in on all four but they won't be close enough by morning. It's why we are on rotation for sleeping, not all awake." he says leaning against the wooden framing.

"We must have set the fires late." Ygritte says, shrugging down at him as she gazes out into the darkness. "But they have all night to get here, don't forget that."

"Aye, I haven't, that's why every group has two wargs to keep track of their movements. Relax, we are fine for now at least. Don't forget they move slowly unless they attackin. Now I'm just guessin but I'm thinkin it takes thought power to get them moving like that, I'm guessing that's why the Shadows we have seen don't do that attackin." Tormund hears a slight hum coming from above him.

"But some of them do fight. We have heard of it from the survivors."

"Aye, I've been thinkin bout that, I think there are different levels of walkers like hunter vs warrior vs chieftain. Some just have plain clothes, some have some armour, some have full armour. Most we seen have no armour or little armour, those ones stay back. From what some of the survivors have said, those with full armour fight in the front of their army and seem to enjoy the deaths they cause." Ygritte drops down from her perch at his words.

"Well your fucking depressing when Mance bans goats milk." she says as she walks past him into the main hall of the village.

The night passed as he expected with no attack. He had his people out in sifts not wanting to give away just how many of them there were. Some out hunting some out getting firewood. But most indoors were preparing for the coming attack that evening. Some even dozing to be more rested.

They checked the traps, they added to the traps making them as flammable as they could. What little rendered fat and lard they could spare for this first attack was used. What cloth, lard and any other flammable substance was added to their trap.

As the darkness fell the group got ready in their positions. Oak had informed them that the walker and whites were quietly moving in on their position. It is a relatively small group of twenty whites, while the walker has no armour on. Ygritte, the best archer, with the biggest supply of dragon glass arrowheads, is back up on the roof along with twenty other archers.

The other archers are all spread out over the other buildings in the small village. While the other warriors on foot are spread out inside the buildings with torches. They had slightly modified the plan to try to kill as many of them all and then see the size of the group sent after them before they decided if they should move on.

As plans went it wasn't horrid. With the help of the other singers in the other groups with communications, the other three chieftains decided to do the same since it was only relatively small groups sent after each of them. Between twenty and thirty dead and one walker sent to each group. While not a walk on the wall, it should be easier than climbing the wall to walk it.

"Still a shit plan." was heard from above Tormund. He couldn't help but give out a small chuckle.

"Not even being given the chance to take out a shadow makes you happy. Maybe we should find you a pretty kneeler for you to steal." Ygritti gives a loud snort at his words.

"Like some pretty kneeler boy could ever steal me and why would I ever want to steal one?" Tormund can hear some of the other archers around them laughing. Ygritti had grit her teeth while saying those words.

"Dalla told me that Mance learnt something from those pretty Kneelers called the Lord's Kiss. maybe you should ask her why she stole a Crow." more laughter erupted at his words. This is a good thing that would bleed the tension from his people.

His group is composed of mostly warriors with only fifteen archers. This will be good in this situation as they will outnumber the dead on the ground, the hope is that this will force the Walker into the open to kill them, that will be the chance that the archers need to kill the Walker.

Another hour passed before any action happened. An owl and a hawk came flying back in the signal from the wargs. The walker and whites are on the move. Anticipation runs through the group as the birds land on their partners shoulders.

"Minutes." Tanner says petting his owls plumage. "From the north like we expected."

"Right everyone in positions. Archers wait until they are committed to entering the village if you can wait until the walker is in and aim only for him."

Most of his men spread out in front of the main hall of the village, even most of his archers are on top of this building, while the rest of his men waited to funnel the dead towards them with fire. The day to prepare had been productive being able to set fire traps to funnel the dead right where they wanted.

The first of the dead comes rushing into the village straight toward the men. Tormund, not believing the gall of the Walker to only send one, decides to be himself at that moment. He spits in the ground before pulling out his dragon glass dagger and throwing it into the whites chest. The thing stopped running forward and fell like a puppet.

A scream of rage erupts from the forest causing everyone to cover their ears in pain, before the rest of the dead are running out of the forest straight at him. The fires did not even need to be set as the only place they are running to is Tormund. It is all his men could do to keep him alive as twenty or more come at him.

"Well now you've done it Father." Toregg says, chuckling as he jabs with his spear in one hand and a lit torch in the other. Stab one burn another it is quick work as none of them went for any of the other besides his father.

Suddenly a cracking sound is heard then every white fell at once before a cheeky "Your Welcome." drifted down from the roof. As one the men turn and look at the roof. Standing on one of the Halls beams Ygritti takes a bow. Not a single one of the fighting men noticed when the walker entered the Village.

Randall Tarly

Randall Tarly, a man who can't accept defeat. The only man to beat Robert Baratheon at war. A man who is currently losing against the foreign tactics of dickless men and fire zealots. He lost the high ground of HighHeart, the fires the zealots tried to light all fizzled and failed the stumps of the weirwood proving too hard to burn.

If Randall was a pragmatic man he would hope that this would cause the zealots to give up but he knows better than to accept that. Nothing would stop these men from trying to take over; they had made their plans perfectly clear with their choice of puppet.

His next failure was losing RavenTree Hall, house Blackwoods almost completely destroyed, save a boy imprisoned in kings landing and two more boys and a daughter out for fostering. The loss of the Blackwoods was crushing to moral. The notice of the wins at Old Town was just the news that he needed to lift his men's spirits.

After leaving half his army to garrison Harrenhal with the new Lord Hardwin Whent a curious man, a naturalised Bastard the old lord Whent's issue on some Braavosi merchant. The man had some very odd things to say at the least, however Randall had no time to listen to him as his scouts had found the Unsullied forward base, or at least one of them.

Randall lowered his head into his hand as he realised he needed more help then he had. Knowing the North is on the way helped the latest raven from Moat Cailin the Northern Army is marching down the causeway and should weather permitting reach the twins in a sennight, but that wouldn't be enough with the amount of dickless boys running around, sending a plea for help to his chosen king would be the only way to proceed.

Again sorry for the wait. Just a tease of the war in the Riverlands. Why must they be the battleground of Westeros. I have been doing a lot more detailed outlining so hopefully I wont get off track again. Thanks for reading.