:-[Chapter 40]-:
"The numbers of prayers around the Weirwood trees have doubled ever since the rebuilding of Moat Cailin and even more since the start of this crusade. Each Weirwood tree has a representative among our people and I am yours."
"Wh-What use is there to have a representative of the Singers?" asked a curious Harry.
"This."
The little being put his hand on the young wizard forehead and closed his red eyes. After only a few seconds, Harry felt just as good as he did last morning before the fight. He looked in awe at Red Leaves.
"Our role is to instruct, to guide and also to help. This is a war for our cultural survival. If the rest of the Weirwood trees are cut down in the North, our entire race will disappear with them, for we are bound to them. The time has come for those who sing the song of earth and wind to return to Westeros."
:-[T.A.B]-:
:-[Day 36]-:
"That is far too dangerous and volatile! We cannot use it!" Ser Brynden Tully protested.
"Quiet, Ser Fish." snarled the Smiling Knight, "Those fuckers up there are heathens and nothing more. Why are you defending them? I am sure His Grace would love to hear of you being a turncoat..."
"N-No need, Ser." Lord Hoster Tully intercepted, quickly coming between the two men before they used their fists or worse, their swords. "We are simply not used to using this kind of weapon on our enemies."
"I understand your fear." giggled the man but sneering at the two. "For days we have fought with the heathens on those fucking walls and for days we have failed. The King is on his way and we need to destroy that castle before he arrives. This is the quickest way to remove those barbarians."
The Smiling Knight left the two Tully brothers alone with their men. The criminal walked quickly toward his newly build trebuchets. For days, the Rivermen under his command had built three of these puppies. His special projectiles were ready to be sent away, along with of course the traditional rocks.
As the sun was beginning to rise up in the sky, creating a fiery horizon, the kingsguard of King Rhaegar Targaryen went to his band of criminals which he brought with him along with the pyromancers from King's Landing. He could see their excitement, which only added to his own. Giggling to himself, the Smiling Knight approached his men handling the special projectiles.
"Everything ready?" the criminal asked.
"Oh yes, yes it is captain." one gruff man from the Crownlands said.
"Good, good! UNLEASH HELL!" screamed the man. The three trebuchets were activated at the same time and threw their projectiles toward Moat Cailin's high walls.
Suddenly, a huge gust of wind came from the North, knocking the trebuchets' handlers on their backs, even the Smiling Knight. The man was not smiling anymore, taken by surprise by the howling wind. 'What in the fucking fuck?' yelled internally the Crownlander.
The three projectiles lost the contest of strengthagainst the wind, losing all momentum. Crashing with a resounding bang on the ground, the jar exploded in a massive green cloud of wildfire, far from the castle's wall.
The wind disappeared as quick as it appeared, letting the Rivermen and the small group of criminals the Smiling Knight brought with him getback to their feet.
"Ser! Ser!" yelled a man, a look of worry on his face.
"What in the fuck is it!?" screamed the man, starting to get enraged since the last couple of moments were not going according to his carefully laid plan.
"We have caught a spy! He is..."
The man did not have time to finish his sentence when a gargantuan green explosion occurred in the camp, seemingly shaking the foundation of the land itself. The flames went everywhere, burning everything in its path. As if the Gods themselves wanted to punish them, the winds were blowing again in the direction of the south, seemingly only aiming at the tents.
Chaos quickly followed as hundreds of men were burning alive while others were trying desperately to stop it, only to catch the green liquid upon themselves. One man was stuck under a burning tent and was screaming for all of his life but no one was able to help him.
"DRAGONS! THEY HAVE DRAGONS! RUN FOR YOUR LIFE!" one terrified knight of the Riverlands screamed at the top of his lungs.
"That is enough!" yelled a powerful voice within all of the chaos. It was Ser Brynden Tully, the Black Fish. "Men of the Riverlands! Fortify yourselves, seize your courage, we must not let our fear lose us the day!"
However, even the Black Fish could not keep control of all of his men at once in this situation. His brother, Lord Hoster Tully, was nowhere to be seen.
:-[T.A.B]-:
:-[Day 32, After the meeting with Red Leaves, Moat Cailin]-:
Harry tried to see Red Leaves, after he gave him back his energy but he could not see him anywhere. The Singer had probably retreated to whatever place he felt comfortable and safe, probably near the Weirwood tree. The young wizard felt as if he had meditated for an entire night. The only reason he didn't meditate was that he did not have the time.
His attention was taken by a scream outside. Grabbing his sword, the same that Rickard had given to him all those years ago, he quickly ran and opened the door, only to see Torrhen, with a sword and an axe, as red as a tomato. The still sleeping guard was on the ground with drool spilling out of his mouth.
"My lord! Are you safe? I swear to the Old Gods themselves I shall punish this man and make him clean the stalls until his back breaks."
"No need, Torrhen. I shall explain it all to you later, you will never believe me." Harry smile.
"Understood, my lord." the giant man nodded. "Lady Sura wanted me to make sure you were hale. She is with Princess Martell and Lady Dayne and they are helping with the wounded, as per usual with the younger Starks."
"Good. Anything else?" the young lord inquired.
"Aye. The prisoner, Gawen I believe requested an audience with you."
"Really now?" Harry said, surprised at this.
"Indeed. Shall I tell him to put his request where the sun does not shine..." laughed Torrhen, before quickly adding, "my lord."
"No. I am a man who listens to my people. Maybe it will be a waste of time, maybe not but I shall know what the man wants with me."
:-[T.A.B]-:
A little bit later, Harry was standing in front of the cell Gawen the Reachman was in for days. The man had not asked for anything, gladly accepting his two meals a day and a bath a week. The guards quickly learned from the young hunter of the terrible conditions the armies of the Reach were forced to live in and pitied the man. All of this was reported to Lord Winterstorm of course.
"Well, here I am. What can I do for you, Gawen isn't it?"
Gawen look stunned at the fact that a lord like him was bothering to use his name.
"My lord. I wish to change sides."
:-[T.A.B]-:
:-[Day 33]-:
Harry was with Lord Rickard alone inside his personal solar, late the next night. The two men were discussing various subjects with a small glass of wine when they heard Torrhen knock at the door.
"Aye, Torrhen?"
"My lord, Marcy is here with terrible news. You will both need to hear this."
Harry sighed. Of course, the war could not let them have a single night of relaxation.
"Let her in, Torrhen."
As soon as the Captain of the Household guards opened the door, the diminutive woman entered and had a terrified look on her face. Her dark brown hair was stuck to her forehead, showing that she had ran all the way up here to see them.
"My lords. I have grave news. The southerners, they have wildfire!"
:-[T.A.B]-:
:-[Day 35]-:
"Did you know?" Harry growled.
"No! I swear on the Seven-Who-Are-One! Please do not kill me." Mace Tyrell begged.
"Your gods have no power here, southerner. The Old Gods are gaining in power with each day, we are winning against your armies." the young raven-haired man said, sure of himself.
Mace did not say anything else, simply sitting back on his bed and looking at the stone floor, waiting to be saved.
"My Lord Winterstorm? I think I can help you." the voice ofGawen said.
"How so?" Harry asked, once he was in front of his cell.
"I can infiltrate their ranks easily, once in the camp I can destroy their arsenal and free the North of this threat."
"Why would you do this?"
"In two weeks, you have fed me, housed me and treated me as a human being without ever torturing me as the lords of the south told us you would do to prisoners. Lord Stark and his son have saved my life when any other lord would have killed me in a heartbeat."
:-[T.A.B]-:
:-[Day 36, in the morning before the attack]-:
Gawen was dressed in clothes taken from one of the many Rivermen bodies killed in the bloody crusade. Yes, the plan was insane, but insane enough that it might work. The man was accompanied by some crannogmen who showed him the secret route to reach the enemy camp. It was strange for him to think of them as enemies but his future was now in his hands. If he could accomplish this mission, he would undoubtedly have a place of choice at the court of Lord Winterstorm.
His escort was moving fast and only because of his years of experience of hunting in forests that he was able to follow them. Equipped with his new short bow, a gift from Lord Winterstorm, Gawen saw the entrance of the camp. Guarded by only a couple of men, the gate was open for entrance.
"We killed a small patrol earlier in the day, allowing you to enter their camp easily. Our chief scout has said that the wildfire jars are being kept inside a small tent, not too far from the entrance, as we told you earlier. This is as far as we go, we will stay here in case you need a quick escape. Good luck, southerner."
Gawen nodded and looked at the open entrance. It was time to put everything on the line. He got up and started walking towards his destiny. The young hunter started to run towards the entrance, to give the impression that he was running away from someone.
"The northerners have killed my patrol! Help!"
The two guardsmen standing at the gate looked at each other in fright. The North had not attacked the Rivermen yet and from what they heard from the attack on the Reachmen, they really did not want to die to demons or other monsters that those barbarians had in reserve.
"Quick! Enter the camp! We will close the gates as soon as you pass!" shouted one of the guards.
Gawen did not need to be told twice. He quickly passed the gates and entered the south's new camp. It was far better than the one with Mace Tyrell, his old lord. The tents were all perfectly aligned and not in total disarray. With the direction he got from Marcy before leaving Moat Cailin, the young spy walked in the direction he hoped was the correct one.
He heard men coming his way, probably due to the commotion he caused when entering. Gawen saw multiple knights running in his direction and one even stopped him.
"You! Where are the rest of the patrolmen?"
"D-Dead, Ser. The murderous northerners have killed them all while we were patrolling around. I only survived because I was further ahead than the others. I think I killed one of them with my arrows but I cannot be sure." Gawen answered, panting slightly.
"I see. Who was your patrol leader? How many men were lost?" the knight asked.
Gawen was taken aback by the questions. The situation was becoming very dangerous, very quickly for him. Before he could answer however, an arrow flew beside his head, hitting the knight between his eyes,killing him instantly.
"Attack! We are under attack!" screamed a passing Riverman levy.
Gawen did not lost any more time, he ran deeper into the camp, avoiding the men running everywhere. Suddenly, the young hunter saw a flash of a green liquidby the light bouncingfrom the jars. It was as if the Old Gods themselves wanted him to find the place where the southerners kept the dreaded weapon.
He quickly entered the tent and saw a lot of wildfire jars piled up in stacks with straw. The young spy never saw the effect of this substance of course but if his lord was right, this could easily change the way the war was going, even with a sorcerer as powerful as Lord Winterstorm. He quickly took the long lock that had been given to him and started to light it up with two pieces of flint.
"YOU! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?" shouted a powerful voice.
Without warning, Gawen was pulled out of the tent by a pair of strong arms and dropped everything. Kicks and punches landed everywhere on his body. He tried to protect himself but they were too many.
"You, soldier, go warn the Smiling Knight that we have just caught a spy." screamed one of the many men beating him up.
"At once, Lord Bracken!" said the Riverlands levy before taking his leave.
Gawen had difficulties staying awake and was starting to see black. Suddenly, he was pulled up from the ground and receive a couple of slaps in the face, effectively waking him up. He moaned in pain as every part of his body protested against him staying up but was forced to do so by who he thought was Lord Jonos Bracken of the Riverlands. Even in the Reach, the young hunter had heard about him and his holy actions against the now extinct House Blackwood.
"Who are you, you mutt?" Jonos said, his face starting to show purple in his rage. "All of you, go defend the side gate before they enter the camp!"
Left alone, and still held by the lord, Gawen was able to slowly regain his senses from the hard beating. The pain was bearable and the young hunter used the fact that lord Bracken was not looking his way to give him a headbutt, making Lord Bracken lose his grip on his clothes.
"You little shit! I will show you what the Brackens are made of!" yelled the man, holding his bloody nose in his hands.
Gawen did not care for his words however. In his mind, he was determined to finish his mission no matter the cost. He felt a deep sense of loyalty for the North, even in his very short amount of time with them. They were an honorable people and nothing like the barbarians the High Septon was preaching loudly about. The young spy turned around and grabbed one of the torches, removing it from the ground with force.
"FOR THE NORTH!" Gawen yelled bravely before throwing his weapon like a spear inside the tent full of wildfire jars. He closed his eyes but even then, the only thing he registered was the green flash of the wildfire engulfing him.
:-[T.A.B]-:
The shock of the explosion was incredibly strong and even the men and women inside Moat Cailin felt it intensely. For what seemed hours but in fact was mere seconds, the foundations of the castle were shaken to their cores. Inside, everyone fell to their knees or lost their balance entirely.
It was the same thing outside. Some warriors even fell from the wall due to the shockwave. Harry was one of the few that managed to stay on his feet. The green explosion was the signal that Gawen had accomplished his mission, but was he alive?
Shaking his head, trying to put his worry for the man out of his mind for the moment, the young wizard put all of his attention on the enemy camp, which was burning in green flames. The fire became so intense, that the flames easily reached four meters, higher than their wall, made of tree trunks, itself. Even from Moat Cailin, Harry could easily hear the screams of pain from the southerners.
He wondered if they would just retreat for now. With the amount of death that they had provoked upon them, surely King Rhaegar would retreat from this insane war.
A strong wind came from the North for the second timetodaybut this time, it was not Harry who was the source of it. He knew Red Leaves was entering the fight and for the first time in thousands of years, the Singers were entering a war against men. Like a tornado, the winds were blowing the wildfire everywhere in the camp. As soon as even one little spark touched a surface, be it a man or an object, it burned until nothing was left.
Harry thought that the North were extremely lucky considering. If one of those jars were able to reach his walls... he knew his gates were probably safe since they were entirely made of Ironwood and that it did not burn under normal fire but the wall was made of solid stones, not Ironwood.
The green fire was now eating their wooden wall, leaving nothing in its path. The young lord hoped that the trebuchets would be destroyed in the carnage as well. Men were running away from the camp in all directions. When some came far too close for his liking to Moat Cailin, Harry raised his arm, catching the attention of the captain of the gates, Rywen.
"ARCHERS! NOCK!" the captain shouted.
In a collective grunt, his entire company of bowmen were at the ready, arrows pointed south. The raven-haired young man dropped his arm coldly and swiftly, understanding the meaning of his gesture.
"SEND THOSE BASTARDS BACK TO THEIR SEVEN HELLS!" Rywen screamed at the top of his lungs.
:-[T.A.B]-:
The Smiling Knight coughed hard to remove the dust in his throat. All around him, green fire was burning everything he could see. Men were running around, some were on fire, others running away from the fire. It was an apocalyptic vision of horror, even for him. Two of the trebuchets were consumed in their entirety. Smaller explosions were heard near him since his men had brought some crates with them to reload faster.
The knightnoticedhis cape caught flame as soon as a tiny green spark landed on it. Never moving this fast in his entire life, he quickly rose up to his feet and removed the burning white cape from his back. It was a total failure on his part as he did not see the fire where the clamps were. When the piece of cloth fell on the ground, he burned his own hand. Screaming in pain and blaming the gods for it, the Smiling knight was able to remove his gloves without too much damage to his flesh.
"We are all going to die! We are..." yelled a Riverman, passing beside the knight, before receiving a sword in the middle of his back.
"Fuckin coward. Cannot stand them." snarled the kingsguard. His sword hand was hurting but he was still able to move his sword around fairly easily.
He saw Ser Brynden Tully trying to rally men to his side with mitigated success. The Smiling Knight approached the knight of the Riverlands with difficulty as the men were running around like when you kicked an anthill.
"Ser Brynden. Rally your men. This is it! Mwa hahahaha!" laughed the crazed man.
"This is what, may I ask?" the Black Fish asked but was afraid of the answer.
"The moment to attack! We have lost everything to their attack and we need to retaliate now!"
"You are fucking crazy man! We have almost no ladders, no siege towers, only one trebuchet left, for now and no other siege engines except for a simple tree ram." Brynden revealed, trying to make him see reason.
"We still have jars of wildfire, Ser Fish! Some have survived this calamity, this is a sign of the Seven-Who-Are-One themselves. We need to launch an all-out offensive attack against their defenses. The wildfire is going to destroy their fucking castle!" the crazed man laughed out loud.
"This is madness beyond madness! We cannot..." started the Riverland knight, before getting interrupted by a sword pressed to his neck. "What is this!"
"Shut up you bloody coward. If you continue to protest against my methods, I shall senda raven to His Grace, King Rhaegar telling him so. I am sure your nephew and nieces would love to see me, don't you agree?" the Smiling Knight said, relishing in the fear in the man's blue eyes. The kingsguard was able to see the fight leaving the man's face and he knew he had won.
"Follow me men! Let us attack their fucking castle and beat them once and for all!" the Smiling Knight said, with more than a gleam of madness in his eyes.
:-[T.A.B]-:
"Are they actually going to fight, when their own camp is now an inferno?" Rickard Stark said, having rejoined his bannermen on the wall.
"It seems so my lord Rickard." Harry sighed dejectedly. He had high hopes that the enemy would simply go back to the south once and for all.
Thousands of men were running in their direction yet again. However, they were disorganized and very ill-equipped, as if they were forced to be there. The gate captain, Rywen, immediately saw the offensive and use his horn to announced it to all the habitants of the castle. In less than a couple of minutes, the walls and the courtyard were full of northerners, ready to die for their land.
In the Red Fields, the Rivermen and Valemen under the Smiling Knight's command were dying by the dozens under the constant arrow fire of the northerners. Eventually, the ram was able to arrive at the gates, followed by hundreds of men who had succeeded in arriving unarmed. The few ladders that the South still possessed were finally put against the high walls and the men started to climbed them.
Harry used his fireball spell against the men in the Red Fields. He was not worried in the least about his gates made of Ironwood so he let them tire themselves on it. He truly did not understand why the Rivermen and Valemen were attacking in these conditions.
After what seemed to be hours, Harry was fighting southerners on top of his walls in the company of his lord, Rickard Stark. The man had his Valyrian steel sword, Ice, firmly in his hands and was slashing armor and flesh left and right. With his magic and with Hedwig's help, the young wizard was also killing his enemies fairly easily. Faster, stronger and with a far, far better training than the majority of the southerners, Harry had massive advantages on them.
Torrhen was having his fun with his sword in one hand and his axe in the other. The man was grinning from ear to ear being in his element while doing his duty in protecting his lord. Together, the northerners were a force to be feared as when Rickard came to Moat Cailin months ago, he came with the best men in Winterfell. Those men were right now surrounding their lord while he was cutting through some poor Valeman.
All of a sudden, a terrifying laugh echoed through the fighting. Up the battlements was the Smiling Knight, one of the evil weapons Rhaegar had used during this crusade.
"Lord Pup! I have been wanting to meet you for a while now! Ever since I beat your pathetic son, I think all of the Starks have small balls! Mwa ahahaha!" the depraved man said.
"Leave him to me Harry." Rickard Stark said which made Harry nod even if he wanted to take care of the criminal himself.
The Old Wolf jumped into the fray, killing two Rivermen who did not understand the gravity of the situation and got killed in the process. The kingsguard followed him, jumping down the battlements. Brandishing Ice like a master swordsman, Rickard managed to push back the Smiling Knight to said battlements in a few moves, thereby depriving him of space to maneuver his sword efficiently.
"You may think what you want of the Starks. You may insult me however you like but never, ever insult one of my children in front of me, you filthy piece of shit." Rickard said, his voice calm and steady despite the intense moment.
Suddenly, the Smiling Knight was able to headbutt the lord of the North quite harshly.
"Shut up you fucking cunt! I will fuck your daughter right after I ki... AAARRRRRRRRGGGG!" the Crownlander began before getting his sword hand cut off cleanly by Ice.
"You miserable filth. You do not deserve a quick death and yet, I shall give it to you for I cannot let you leave Moat Cailin alive, I swear it upon the Old Gods." Rickard said.
The Smiling Knight was not done however. He used the fact that he had a gaping wound to throw blood in the Northern Lord's face, blinding him momentarily. By reflex, Rickard tried to remove it with his forearm but did not seethe crazed man coming. The kingsguard slammed into the northerner's body pushing him with all of his strength. Using his good arm, the Smiling Knight punched Rickard in the face a couple of times, making Stark lose his balance.
"Lord Stark!" Harry yelled to his mentor. "The edge!"
With an almost demonic laugher, the kingsguard jumped forward and used both of his arms to grabbed Rickard and push them both over the edge. Harry saw their fall almost in slow motion. In desperation, the young wizard raised his arms, palms toward his liege lord and pushed all of his magic into his next spell.
"WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!" Harry screamed slightly panicking
The spell did exactly what intended and more as it even saved the Smiling Knight from a deadly fall. Both of them were safely put on the ground, to the great relief of all the men and women of the North present.
Rickard, however still had his mind in the fight and started pummeling the man's face with all of his might as he had dropped Ice during the fall.
"Yes! Yes! Show me your rage, Stark!" the kingsguard laughed like the madman for all that he was.
Rickard continued to punch him in the face but the man only continued to laugh. Harry wanted to go help him but he was suddenly under attack by southerners, brandishing high their weapons. The young warrior used his inhuman speed to quickly dispose of the miscreants, slashing the stomach of one and the neck of the other in two swift moves.
When Harry looked at Rickard's fight once more, the two men were on their feet, slowly turning in a perfect circle. There were hundreds of men surrounding them both in the courtyard, ready to defend their lord as soon as he gave the signal.
However, the young raven-haired man knew Lord Rickard would never give up, especially to a man willing to rape his precious daughter. The Old Wolf took his knife from his belt, having lost Ice and got ready for the final moment of his duel.
"You won't even allow a defenceless man to have a weapon in his final moments in this life, Lord Pup?" snarked the Smiling Knight.
"No, but my honor demands I face you on equal terms." Rickard said, putting his knife back inside his scabbard. "I shall fight you, man to man. Fists against... well, fist." Rickard smirked.
"I will show you not to mess with me, Lord Pup!" yelled the demented man. He wiped the gaping wound on his face, covering it with blood and creating a vision of horror. "Come at me then!" he roared.
Rickard listened to him and ran toward him at full speed. When he was near the rapist, the Old Wolf jumped in the air and kneed the Smiling Knight square on the jaw, stunning him momentarily. Harry was glad to have put a spell of lightness on Stark's armor, helping him tremendously in the moment.
The punches from the northerner were violent and precise. They were hitting the nose and the jaw almost every time. With only one hand, the Smiling Knight was at a serious disadvantage. He could brag and act tough all he wanted, thought Harry. The criminal was a dead man standing as soon as he threatened to raped Lord Stark'sdaughter.
Rickard quickly lowered his knees to avoid a punch. He got up even faster to deliver a violent headbutt to his opponent. Stunned, the Smiling Knight lost his balance and felled back a couple of steps. He did not see what was coming. The Old Wolf pushed the knight's back against the inner wall of Moat Cailin and held him by the throat with his left hand. With his right he started destroying his face, one punch after the other.
"Ha..ha...haaaa." the Smiling Knight smacked his lips, smiling painfully at the Stark. "It seems that you have wo...urkk... gaaah!" he started to say before Lord Rickard Stark started to strangle him with both of his hands.
"Shut the fuck up, you rapist thug." the Old Wolf said, squeezing his throat until he was certain the Smiling Knight was dead.
:-[T.A.B]-:
Thank you everyone for reading Chapter 40 of The adventure begins! Please let a review in the comment, letting me know what you think about my story or what you would like to see.
Criticism is always welcome as long as it is constructive.
Thank you to abarai72 for his amazing help in developing this story!
ToTravis Btmb, Ptool, rmw5763, : Thank you so much for the reviews! I hope that you liked this chapter also!
To Blaze1992: Very good idea for a story!
To Claudiomir: Thank you my friend!
To Biohazard82: Glad you liked it! Hole that you like you chapter!
To Wrixel: Well, thank you so much for you review! I really appreciate it.
To rajeshkont: Indeed! Red leaves will have a very small part to Harry's first adventure in Westeros. I hope this chapter answer your question about the crates!