My thanks to MandTeKad who serves as a sounding board and beta for this and my other stories.
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38: The Water Runs Red 3
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The rush of air beneath my wings, lifting me high among the clouds, was a sensation I would never tire of. Nor would I ever lose the thrill of immersing myself in Rian's mind, letting him soar freely while I savoured the spectacle. But today, and for as long as it would take to conquer Redwater, there would be no pleasure in the flight. Instead, I was here on a reconnaissance mission, while my body lay far below in the captain's cabin of the Red Kraken, guarded by my squires as the ship and a single galley tacked into the wind, heading away from Redwater.
Rian wasn't flying over the water, but over the island instead, once more circling where the men who'd come down from Rakakz's southern port were. The group were moving far slower than I'd first expected, and for a while, I'd wondered why that was. If they'd pushed, the group of perhaps fifty might've reached either of my ports inside of two days, three at the outside. However, it was nearing the end of the fourth day since Rian had first spotted them, and they still had a day or so to go.
The reason for the slow approach had become clear when Rian had seen two galleys sailing from Rakakz's northern port toward the south. Once there, all four galleys at that port, along with most of the men present, had joined them and the group of six galleys had moved south.
Once that was known, the plans for dealing with the land force were altered, and instead of overwhelming force being sent out to engage it, and thus leave the port weakened, a new plan was devised. It was clear Rakakz intended to take Vaegon's southern port, and then potentially push for the northern port that lay in the bay. The problem for him was that Vaegon was dead, having been executed by Daemon when he didn't bend the knee, and thanks to Rian and the gulls with me, I knew his movements almost as soon as they started.
With that in mind, after a day planning out our counter with Daemon, Bronn, and Jaeronos, we'd devised a plan that while risky would, if executed even half as well as planned, shatter Rakakz's power and ensure he would be easy pickings when we moved to remove his control over the centre of the island.
Yesterday, as Rakakz's fleet moved south slowly, not wanting to attack at night as the sun would be in their eyes, my fleet had slipped from the port. Most of it, including one of the damaged galleys and the Pride of Saltbrook , had headed south, reaching the southern tip of the island. There, the fleet lay anchored waiting to spring into action, just out of sight of the port and Rakakz's fleet once they edged around the point they'd sheltered behind the day before. However, not all of my ships had gone with Jaeronos as the Red Kraken and the Reaper's Revenge had headed southeast out to sea.
The crew of the two ships I'd taken hadn't liked sailing out into the open sea at night, but none had outright rejected my orders. From today at least, the part of the plan we were doing would become clear, as we swung wide around Rakakz's fleet and headed north, intending to strike at one of the weakened ports there.
Bronn, along with Ymir and sixty of our best men had headed into the forest. About half the men had bows, and their orders were simple. Once the battle for the port commenced, they were to strike the land attack force in the rear, removing them for the battle and ensuring the pirates didn't sneak into the port and do damage while it was focused on the fleet bearing down on it.
The majority of the men under my command remained in the port under Daemon's command. Kaa was also there, but he was secured in the commander's building and shouldn't be in danger. That said, if any pirate was dumb enough to enter the room, Kaa was free to strike, and Daemon should've ensured that few if any men were present in the building before and during the battle. Most of the bows were with Daemon as well, though Jaeronos fleet had about fifty so that, if they needed to, they could add that firepower to that provided by the scorpions when they engaged Rakakz's fleet.
Based on the plan that had existed when I'd departed, though it might've been altered slightly as my strike group had to set sail first, Rakakz's fleet would be allowed to attack the port, hopefully beaching most if not all their galleys. From there Daemon's men would engage them, Bronn's those in the forest, while Jaeronos had the fleet sweep north, either to strike any ships still at sea or trap the pirates between his ships and Daemon's men.
Casualties were going to be high among Daemon's men, as Rakakz's forces would attack thinking they had the advantage, but as the men with him were roughly equal to those attacking, and they had the defensive positions, I felt Daemon could hold the line long enough for Jaeronos to get into position to trap the pirates between the hammer and anvil. At that point, many, if not all, surviving pirates should surrender, and I'd be looking at a few hundred new men along with six sea-worthy galleys.
While that, and Bronn's wiping out of the land force, was going on, the Kraken and Revenge would head north. The base plan was for me to strike the virtually abandoned southern port Rakakz controlled on the eastern coast. However, with just one galley docked in the northern one, and another at sea chasing a cog that looked like it would be escaping, that port was an option for me to strike at. Doing so was a far more dangerous option, but with Jaeronos meant to bring most of his fleet north to Rakakz's southern port, then once, provided I attacked the north, Jaeronos would leave only enough men to secure, and then strip clean the southern port before sailing north to reinforce me.
Regardless of when the two eastern ports were taken, with the loss of most of his manpower and ships on the coast, the Gilded Hand would be left with just the single port in Redwater Bay. While it was the easier port to defend, situated in a small inlet at the point in the bay furthest from the sea, Rakakz couldn't pull too many men from it. If he did, Allerion, who controlled the northern third of the island, would be in a position to strike.
Allerion held, from what I'd so far learnt, five ports. One lay in Redwater Bay while the others spanned the length of the northern coast. Vaegon's former men only knew of four of those ports, but thanks to recon flights I'd discovered a fifth port. This sat about halfway to Allerion's most easterly port, and while small – containing only a single galley and two longboats – served as a connection between the easternmost port and the others. A path that while overgrown was visible from the air ran from this new port toward the next port to the west, ensuring the ports remained in contact. That would cause me issues when it was time to move against Allerion, but for now, my focus was on Rakakz.
Between his bay port, and the northern one on the eastern coast, a well-defined path ran. The path was almost straight, and reasonably flat – at least from what Rian had seen so far – so sending signals from one port to the other wouldn't be that hard. That alone was making me reluctant to strike the northern port as while I should have the men there outnumbered, a quiet signal to the bay port would see my target reinforced.
The one upside was that, since it would take me two to get to the southern port, and at least another to the northern one, I had time to consider my course. Still, regardless of which port was struck, Rakakz was going to be severely weakened within a quarter-moon's time. The trick was taking advantage of that before he learnt of the failure of his attack.
From there, I'd have to scout The Lotus Isle and Coral Isle. While, in theory, the Lotus Prince and Salladhor Saan wouldn't outright attack my newly taken ports, and were against slavery and more common pirate actions, I wouldn't know their intentions until I spoke with them. that, however, would only take place once Redwater was mine, and Rakakz and Allerion either bent their knee or lost their head.
… …
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(Bronn's POV)
He kept low, using the bush and trees around him to stay as hidden as possible while he watched the group of pirates to his southwest. While they'd moved toward the port slowly, the pirates had their focus on threats from their front, not their side or rear, and as such, thanks to Ymir guiding them, Bronn and the men with him had managed to skirt around the pirates without alerting them to their presence.
The direwolf was a fucking gift from the gods in how easily he could track, and monitor a target without being seen. Ymir had alerted Bronn that they were nearing the pirates long before he had seen, heard, or smelt them. With the wind blowing from the southeast, they didn't have to worry as much about sounds and scents alerting the pirates, and it granted Ymir even greater ability to track their targets.
That said, when Bronn first caught the scent of the pirates, he felt sorry for the direwolf. The pirates smelled like shit, and if not for years of being on battlefields and other places with such unsavoury smells, Bronn might have struggled to keep down his last meal. Ymir would be getting hit a thousand times worse, probably more as Cregan had explained how sharp the senses of the direwolf and his other animal companions were, and Bronn found himself feeling sympathy for the beast; an event he had never fucking expected a few years ago. Then again, much of what he was doing now was not how he had expected to be spending his time, but the pay was good and Cregan and the others were decent enough conversation that it almost made up for the lack of pussy for a post-battle fuck.
Turning slowly, making his movements slightly erratic so that any who looked his way would not suspect a man was there, Bronn looked at the men with him. Most of those with him were sellswords or former pirates under the command of the Grim Prince. As this battle was, unlike the one in the port, more likely to be to the death – not least as none of the pirates could be allowed to slip away and cause havoc elsewhere – the men with Bronn had orders to give no quarter.
About half the men carried shortbows intended to target the pirates once the battle began while the rest would charge. Ideally, they would be close enough that the pirates would not know they were under attack until Bronn and his men were right on top of them; preferably with a blade ready to slip through their neck or spine.
While unarmed, and only wearing the lightest of armour that Cregan had created for him – the mail too heavy and loud for woodland combat – Ymir would be taking point. The idea that Bronn would trust a beast as large as a Sand Steed to fight with and protect him was another mad idea he'd have never considered a few years ago. Not before bringing that Northern bastard to Sunspear. Bronn still did not know what the issue was between Cregan and the Snow boy, nor did he care. All that mattered, then and now, was that he was paid a small fortune for getting the bastard to Sunspear.
Yet it was because of that that he found himself fighting beside a fucking direwolf, and trusting it more than most men to not stab – or in its case, claw – him in the back. The only issue was just how fucking quiet the beast could move, and if not for Chass stopping one of the pirates from freaking out, they might've lost their position, and angered the direwolf, when it had appeared back in the group late last night.
Turning back to examine the pirates, Bronn once more found himself counting any movement. The various counts he had done since they'd found the pirates aligned roughly with Cregan's initial intelligence of fifty to sixty men. Bronn had that upper number with him, and while he'd have preferred more men, he knew this wasn't the main battle. It would begin at the same time, which would be when Daemon blew twice on a horn he had, the trick was going to be to let the pirates begin their advance and sneak up on their rear without them realising they were about to be fucked in the arse.
Some of the pirates would no doubt slip away, but the orders were to ensure they would not get far. That order had been given by Cregan to Ymir and Bronn was glad he wasn't the one to be hunted by the direwolf. None could survive this, and Bronn was happy about that.
Now, he understood why Cregan needed the pirates who surrendered to bend the knee, but he could not trust any of those fuckers half as far as he could throw them. Sellswords were paid to do a job, and only switched sides if they were paid more – or it was clear their employer was fucked – but pirates had no such standards. They turned their cloaks at the first sign of trouble, hoping to not be cast into irons.
So far Cregan had not been betrayed by any that had bent the knee, nor bar the battle at the end of The Whores campaign, had he suffered defeat, but Bronn knew that would not last. Pirates, even ones that had left the life, were worse than shit and should never be trusted. The only thing that could prevent them from turning on Cregan if he suffered several defeats was how much they believed in his goals, in him as a leader, and most importantly, how happy they were with their pay – which Bronn knew from experience was higher than several sellsword companies in Essos and the watch of various towns – and what Cregan was trying to build.
As much as Bronn might never admit it to any, he was slowly finding himself liking the idea of what Cregan was trying to carve out of the Stepstones. It might not become anything of the size of any part of the Seven Kingdoms, but it would be a good-sized domain. Bronn hoped that Cregan was successful, mainly because his position in Cregan's forces meant that Bronn would get paid in coin and land for helping create it, but he knew the odds weren't there.
The Gods, regardless of which religion they came from, were fickle fucks and sooner or later the winds would turn against Cregan. The trick was going to be to see how many of the men that remained stayed loyal to Cregan, and which would once more turn their cloaks or turn tail and run seeking self-preservation over fighting for a cause that was struggling, if not dying.
… …
… …
(Daemon's POV)
He stood at the edge of one of the buildings in the port, about a few hundred feet back from the docks. Most of his body was hidden behind the building, but his head was glancing out, a Myrish Eye raised to his face. Through the device, he could see the fleet of Rakakz the Gilded Hand approaching. The ships were slowly slipping around the edge of the coast as the sun rose and were using the light to attempt to hide their approach.
Since they were not directly between the rising sun the tactic was not perfect, but it had granted them a chance at partially obscuring their approach. It also meant that as battle raged, the sun would be in Daemon's face, along with those of the men in the port with him.
The issue for the pirates was that not only did Daemon know they were approaching, but the men moving around the beach and docks – numbering around a hundred – were not the only men in the port, nor its only defences. The challenge Daemon had with his men was to ensure that the various surprises he had available to him remained hidden until after the pirates had committed fully to the attack.
The plan they had created to turn the attack into a trap was a bold one, but Daemon knew it was one Oberyn would have approved of, and he had little doubt that Cregan's father was the inspiration for this plan. That said, without Cregan's ability to skinchange they'd have remained unaware of the fleet until this morning, and have no hint of the force moving over the island to flank the port.
While he was raised to follow the Seven-who-are-One, Daemon was not a deeply religious man, and the more he saw Cregan use his bestial companions to his advantage, the less he considered the ability demonic. Without skinchanging, Daemon knew he, Cregan, and many others might have ended up dead in The Whores because of Aeron Indarys' trap, and he was wise enough to understand that anything that granted an advantage before, during, or after a battle was not to be ignored because some distant god condemned it.
When Cregan had confessed to skinchanging into the minds of pirates to ensure their escape from Aeron's trap, Daemon couldn't shake the unease that settled over him. The very idea that someone could invade and control the mind of another man made his skin crawl. It was a power that, to many, could be seen as evil, and Daemon couldn't dismiss that thought. Even now, the memory of Cregan's admission sent a shiver down his spine, one he knew would linger for years to come.
Daemon struggled to reconcile his feelings. The only reason he could accept what Cregan had done was the genuine disgust and regret Cregan had shown when he spoke of it. Daemon believed in his friend's sincerity, and that belief, coupled with the deep friendship they had rebuilt after years of distrust and dislike, made it easier to bear. The thought of marrying Alysanne Snow further solidified his resolve to accept Cregan's actions, though it didn't erase the lingering dread. Daemon knew that Cregan had felt he had no other choice, that it was a desperate act to save their lives. Yet, even with that understanding, the thought of it all continued to haunt him.
Since coming to Redwater, Daemon found himself thankful that Rian had returned, though even if the massive eagle had not arrived, the gulls Cregan had brought with them would have ensured they were aware of the impending pincer attack. Rian being here simply meant that they were aware earlier of the attack, and thus had more time to devise their counter.
The eagle was with Cregan, who sailed somewhere far to the southeast, while Ymir was with Bronn in the woods north of the port. Kaa remained in the port, secure in the commander's building and while men were guarding the building, they had strict orders to not enter. The bloodflower viper would strike at any who entered, and Daemon did not doubt that the viper's venom was potent enough to kill any bitten in less time than it would take for them to scream in pain.
There was a signal to tell the viper that it was no longer in danger, and not to attack any who entered the building, but Daemon was unsure of that signal – the tossing of a live fish would work. Even if it seemed it did, he was content to give the building a wide berth until Cregan returned or they had to abandon the port.
Through the Myrish Eye, Daemon saw the sixth and final galley slide around the edge of the coast. That was the last of the attacking fleet, and assuming they were all fully crewed, they'd be carrying around three hundred and fifty men. Daemon had slightly more than that under his command, but about thirty men, under the command of Lazo and Jovarn, had slipped from the port during the night.
Those men would by now be in position along the tops of the cliff that looked down on the approaching fleet and the port. It was not an overly high cliff, barely a hundred feet high, but it granted an elevated position for the men to rain down arrows on the galleys. They would, however, only do that once Daemon gave the signal, as while ensuring the port did not fall was the primary intent of this battle, the chance to capture Rakakz's galleys, preferably all in working order, was a close second for the orders of battle.
The archers on the cliff would fire down once Daemon sounded the battle had begun, focusing their fire on the rear of the enemy fleet. Those ships were the most likely to either turn and withdraw when the trap was sprung or if they committed, the first that would try and escape once the pirate's attack was broken.
Now, the plan was for Jaeronos to ensure they could not escape, but Daemon felt using the cliffs to target those ships, and hopefully lower the time it would take to secure them, would allow Jaeronos to turn and head north for the second part of the battleplan. Ideally, they would be able to do that without firing a bolt at the pirate vessels, but Daemon expected things would not go as smoothly as that.
"Iron Hands and Jeffery report the men are ready."
Daemon lowered the Eye and looked down at Jekar as the boy relayed that the commanders of the two other hidden groups were in position. "Good," he said, smiling reassuringly at his squire. "I understand you might be nervous about entering battle again," he continued, handing the Eye to Jekar, "but I have faith in you. You have already proven your skill with your first kills." Though the boy nodded, Daemon could still see the uncertainty lingering in his eyes.
"Death is a part of life, Jekar," Daemon said, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. "As my squire, it is your duty to serve alongside me, even when that means confronting danger directly." He squeezed Jekar's shoulder, his voice firm yet encouraging. "Watching a man die is never easy, nor is the smell pleasant," he added, a wry smile tugging at his lips. Jekar smirked at the remark, finding some comfort in the levity. "But it is the price we pay to fulfil our duties as knights and squires. You have already faced battle, killed those who deserved it, and proven that the Warriors spirit beats strong within your heart."
Jekar nodded again, more resolutely this time, as he carefully secured the Myrish Eye in its pouch. With the pirates now approaching and the sun rising over their port bow, using the Eye could give away their position. They needed the element of surprise on their side, at least until the trap was sprung.
As Daemon watched the boy turn to place the Eye in a secure spot, he could not help but feel a pang of regret that there were no whorehouses nearby. Crude as Bronn was, he was not wrong about the value of a willing woman's company after battle. It helped soothe the nerves and would do Jekar good, taking the edge off his uncertainty and helping him step further into manhood.
For his part, Daemon would keep the vow he gave himself, not willing to take another to his sheets until he was either married to Alysanne – the cloth she'd given him secured under his armour – or Lord Stark had denied his request. For a lesser man, staying faithful to their love, or waiting patiently for the enemy to arrive might be a challenge, but for a Knight of Dorne, it was but a trivial matter to endure.
… …
… …
(Jaeronos' POV)
Jaeronos hated waiting.
The wait before a battle was the worst. When you knew a fight was coming, had everything ready, and all that was left was to sit on your ass until the chaos started—that was what he despised. The boredom, the stillness. It made his mind itch.
He was stuck in the cabin of the Coral Howl, trying to ignore the damned gull squawking in its cage. Though it caused his thoughts to wander to why he was here in the first place: Cregan Sand.
Jaeronos had expected easy coin when he heard about the job. Attack a pirate base, get paid after. Simple. But instead of some princeling, he found himself face-to-face with Cregan Sand, the Bastard of Starfall. The boy looked green, barely more than a kid, slim and tall, but those eyes—those eyes had seen battle. Jaeronos had heard the tales of Cregan killing an Ironborn lord and taking his Valyrian steel sword, but until that meeting, he hadn't believed a word of it. One look into those cold, purple eyes, though, and he knew the stories had some truth to them.
Cregan was made for war, but the boy did not fully realise it yet. He had not accepted the thrill of battle, the rush of bloodshed, not like Jaeronos had. But he would. The Stepstones would teach him that, and Jaeronos was more than willing to follow along for the ride, especially with the coin Cregan was paying.
Jaeronos did not care about the politics, the magic, or any grand dreams Cregan might have. He was here for the fight and the pay, nothing more. Let the boy figure out the rest on his own. What mattered was that Cregan had a plan, a bold one, and Jaeronos was ready to play his part in it.
The waiting was the worst part, though. And the damn gull wasn't making it any easier.
… …
… …
(Cregan's POV)
As had been the case for most of my waking hours since Rian had first alerted me to the oncoming attack, I found myself in the mind of a bird high above Redwater. At the moment, however, I wasn't sharing the eagle's body, but instead controlling the frame of a mind-broken gull. Rian was flying further to the north, scouting the twin ports of Rakakz for any change in their situations while I was using the gull to monitor events to the south, and the battle that was not far from happening.
Below me, the six galleys sent by Rakakz were slipping closer to the port I controlled. They'd rounded the corner of the island, and with the rising sun at their backs, bearing down on Dameon and the men stationed there to greet them. Most of the men were hidden behind a few rows of buildings, gathered in shelter there out of sight of the approaching pirates, though about thirty were on the cliffs overlooking the approaching fleet and port.
When I first saw them, I feared the pirates had landed men from the galleys during the night, and they would link up with the men Bronn and Ymir were to engage. However, those concerns were quickly dismissed as I caught sight of Jovarn as the men moved to the cliff edge, though not so close that those on the galleys below might spot them. That made clear Daemon had been the one to send the men there, altering the plan I'd known of when I'd set sail aboard the Kraken . The change was a bold move, as it would cost Daemon men for the fight in the port, but if those on the cliffs could cause chaos in the pirate fleet just as it neared the port, then it would be a successful one.
Shifting my sight north of the cliffs, through the gaps in the canopy, I tried to pick out the men, regardless of banner, there. I knew Bronn was down there, as I could sense Ymir's presence, but the forest was too thick, and with both groups of men stationary, none were easily spottable from above. All I could hope was that Bronn, Ymir, and those with them were in position to attack whenever Daemon gave the signal.
Turning my wings to drift south, and be carried higher by the wind and it brushed over my feathers, I saw the rest of my fleet. They'd slowly begun sailing eastward, tacking into the wind which blew from the southeast, as if heading away from Redwater and bound for Volantis. The pirates would've seen the fleet, but given the distances between them, the fact the sigil on the sails of his ships would be unknown to the pirates, and the direction Jaeronos' fleet was heading, they'd have, I hoped, dismissed them as a threat or juicer target.
Jaeronos would be waiting down there for my second signal. The first had been for him to sail eastward, and the next would be to swing northwest, aiming to strike the pirate fleet from the rear. When they made that move the men aboard would man the oars, and power the fleet closer as the wind, which was in our favour, blew in from astern.
Circling back toward the pirate fleet, the faint flicker of something catching the sunlight drew my attention. The movement that caused it came from the quarterdeck of the lead galley and I saw one of the two men there holding up a Myrish Eye. Given the other man was at the helm, the man with the Eye was likely the commander of the assault.
The commander lowered the Eye slightly and tilted his head. Whatever he said never reached me, the winds carrying them far from the gull's weak ears, but the sudden increase in movement on the galley told me something was happening. The men that were moving joined those already at the oars, and their pace quickened, pushing the galley forward and helping it ride higher on the crest of the next wave. Behind it, the other galleys copied the movement making clear the commander was committing to the attack.
Watching the commander, I noted the lack of an armoured vambrace or at least anything that would be unique or special enough to fit with Rakakz's title of The Gilded Hand. That meant the Pirate Lord was in one of the other ports, most likely the one in the Bay, which would filter into my plans for which of the eastern ports to attack.
Knowing that it was time to set the trap, I slipped from the mind of the gull – though not before commanding it to return to the Kraken , and entered the mind of the only beast I had any link to that lay to the south.
Shaking the head of the new gull as I grew accustomed to my location, I turned around. the room was dimly lit, the only light coming from two pairs of windows that were partially covered over the stern of the war galley. Jaeronos was at a table nearby, looking at something, though he turned when I had the gull call out.
He moved closer, his lips moving as he asked if it was time. I had the gull nod and then used its beak to tap six times at the bars of the cage it was in. I then looked north and spread my wings. That signalled the pirate ships were going full speed for the port. After nodding in understanding, Jaeronos left, and as fresh light flooded the room – coming from the door he'd opened – I heard him call out to his crew.
With my part now completed, I slipped from the mind of the gull and returned my thoughts to my body.
As always, there was a moment where I had to readjust, the weaker eyesight and different limbs causing a moment of confusion. I wondered if the weaker vision my human eyes had might be improved further by getting to a Level 10 bond with Rian. At Level 5, I'd gained sharper sight, though not to the level of Rian or any bird I'd dominated and seen through the eyes of.
At Level 10 with Kaa, the weak heat sense I'd gained from our Level 5 bond which extended a few metres beyond me and only alerted me to nearby movement, had increased to superior reflexes. While not insane, when combined with the rough danger sense I had from Ymir's bond reaching Level 5, meant I was able to react to threats faster than I otherwise could. Something I'd benefited from, both in battle and out.
Once re-settled into my body, I stood and left the main cabin of the war galley. Stepping out, I saw the short corridor to the main deck open. "Stay here," I said to Edric and Trystane, the squires having taken watch outside my cabin while my mind was elsewhere. "I shall return shortly."
Stepping onto the deck, I took a deep breath, enjoying the clean sea air. With that done, I turned and moved to the short flight of stairs that led to the quarterdeck. Halfway up it, I stopped as I caught Miltar's attention. "Turn us due north!"
"Aye Captain," Miltar responded, his hands rotating the wheel and turning the rudder. As the ship slipped to port, I looked back to the deck. "Full sails!"
The men on deck responded to my command, and as I stepped back toward the short corridor that led to my cabin, I saw the sails being unfurled fully. While the wind was coming at us from the stern side, starboard, it would help push us north faster. Barring any setback, we'd be beyond the point on the coast where the pirate fleet had gathered by midday, and halfway to the southern port by nightfall. Perhaps even further if the oars were fully manned and the speed increased.
I gave my squires a nod as I moved past them into my cabin, and after flicking the latch to ensure none could enter without creaking the door down first, returned to my bed. While I could rest my body on a chair, with the chop of the sea, even as gentle as it was now, I found it safer to rest on the bed while my mind was elsewhere.
I might not be able to fight in the battle at my port, but I would watch it. Once it was over, provided the gods hadn't decided to rig the dice rolls against my men, I'd slip into Rian's mind and see how things were at my potential targets.
… …
… …
(Daemon's POV)
Staying in his hidden location, only his head – the helm opened to grant him clearer sight – peeking around the corner of the building. Even without risking using the Myrish Eye, and thus giving away that they knew the fleet was approaching before they should, he had seen the increased speed of the galleys. The oars might be too fine a detail to determine, but the way the ships rose higher on the crests of waves made clear their speed had increased.
The men on the docks had seen the approaching fleet, and begun preparing defences. The two moored galleys had been shifted as best they could. The scorpions, already loosened days before for this, moved to the quarterdecks of the ships, though both remained covered to not alert the pirates that the men of the port were prepared for their attack.
Elsewhere men were slipping on armour and collecting weapons that they had not carried while going about their morning duties. A handful of men, perhaps a third of those in sight of the pirate fleet, had bows with arrows in quivers on their person, or resting on nearby barrels, crates, and the like. Anything that could be turned into a makeshift barrier had been, though the few carts and rowing boats in and around the docks were less than there normally would be. Daemon had ensured that most were moved back, placed down alleyways to deny the pirates cover once they made landfall, blocked off certain paths into the port, and provided cover for the men that waited further back to counterattack.
He remained where he was, waiting patiently. Battle was approaching, and he could feel the surge of excitement washing over him at that, but was not letting the urge to do something force him into making a mistake. "Easy there," He said without turning as a sound came from his side.
"Sorry," Jekar whispered, making Daemon smirk. While he had been nervous earlier, the same excitement that flowed through Daemon was affecting his squire. "It's just…"
"I know," Dameon cut in. "But if we act too early and rush from our positions before the enemy is on the beach, then it will all be for nothing."
Jekar did not reply, choosing instead to remain silent and Daemon assumed his words had worked to quell the squire's desire to fight. At least until the battle began. With the matter handled, Daemon returned his full attention to the approaching fleet. Time slowed as he found himself willing the galleys to come closer, to begin their final push to reach the port.
The familiar strange stillness fell over Daemon and others. Everyone knew what was about to happen, that in minutes many of them might well be lying dead on the ground, yet none moved from their position. None turned tail and ran from what awaited them. This was their fate and they would face it like warriors.
Daemon smiled as the oars on the lead galley moved quicker. The pirate's leader had committed. "Signal Iron Hands and Jeffrey," he said quietly, knowing Jekar was there. "Our enemy has committed but they are to remain hidden until the second blow of my horn."
Gravel being kicked up was the reply he got from his squire, but Daemon was fine with that. Committed the pirates might be, but the sound of men that they could not see shouting would have them falter. They needed the pirates to reach the docks, to commit entirely to the attack for the trap to capture all in its net, and Daemon would be the one to reveal the truth when he stepped into the light.
His armour was still darkened, still smeared with tar and dirt to hide the shine of it, but even so, the sight of a fully armoured figure in what should be a pirate port would draw attention. The pirates would surge toward him, all seeking the honour of striking him down. However, as he brought one wrist to his mouth, placing a small kiss over where he had secured Alysanne's token of affection, he knew none he faced today would have that honour.
He would survive this battle, and all that followed, as unlike those he faced, he had something beyond himself worth fighting for. Worth driving back death for. Nothing would prevent him from once more seeing the eyes of the woman he loved.
… …
… …
(Bronn's POV)
Bronn was growing bored of this. He had spent the fucking night watching these pirates, and now, as the morning grew longer, still found himself waiting. He knew he had to wait for Daemon fucking Sand to blow the horn before he and the men with him could attack, but if he had to spend the day just sitting here, waiting for that Gods-damned horn to blow, he would give the Dornish knight a piece of his fucking mind.
The only upside was that, for all that he was annoyed with being stuck out here waiting for the battle to begin, the pirates he was targeting had been in the forest longer, and they knew nothing of Bronn, nor the men and direwolf with him.
Sounds of the animals in the forest echoed around him, but Bronn gave it little thought. Instead, his focus was on the familiar quiet that filled the air for his men and the pirates. The quiet was normal, and it did not concern Bronn, as he used the time to consider ways he might ensure he survived this battle and enjoyed any celebration that came after. The only downside of that celebration, as with each that had taken place on this island already, was that there were no women to enjoy alongside the drink.
Technically, there were women on the island, but those were former slaves and Cregan was clear that they were not to be touched. Bronn considered that rule, and a few of the others Cregan had explained to every man who had signed on with him, a little odd, as looting and pillaging were standard things that happened after a battle. However, he was willing to accept them because of how well Cregan paid him. Hells, he even helped enforce the rules every man agreed to, though none had attempted to challenge Cregan over raping a prisoner or slave yet.
A faint rustling had Bronn tense, one hand slipping to a dagger at his belt, though he relaxed as he saw the shifting black mass of Ymir. Unlike the over a hundred men stuck in the forest waiting for the battle to begin, the direwolf seemed unbothered and unaware of the stretching quiet that existed as everyone waited for the start of the battle. Ymir looked, for all the world, as if he was somewhere else, lazing around. Yet, for a beast the size of a horse, the direwolf could move with such silence that he had come close to disturbing several of the men under Bronn's command, and if not for others stopping them from reacting, their ambush might have failed before it had begun.
What caught Bronn's attention was that Ymir was not simply shifting around, trying to get more comfortable. No, the hairs down the direwolf's neck were standing, and the beast's muscles tensing. Bronn did not understand how the direwolf seemed to sense a battle was to begin before any signal was given, but after several battles fighting beside Ymir, he had learnt to accept the signs, and his other hand slipped to an axe while the other drew the dagger he had grasped from its sheath.
Proving once again that the direwolf had some extra sense for bloodshed, the moment Bronn had his hand on the axe, a horn echoed through the forest. Men, be they those under his command, or his targets, shifted at the sound even as the horn blew again. That was the signal from Daemon that the battle for the port was underway.
The gentle rustling of leaves to his side had Bronn's attention, and he saw Ymir slipping away, heading north. "Good hunting," he whispered to the beast, knowing it would move to strike from there, cutting down any man who escaped from Bronn and his men. Any that considered themselves lucky to get away would learn, for however short their lives ended up being after then, that they'd have been better dying in battle.
The direwolf didn't respond, nor did Bronn give it any thought. His focus remained on the men ahead, waiting to see how they reacted, and when he and his men could descend on them, taking them out before they knew what was happening.
… …
… …
(Jaeronos' POV)
He stood at the bow of the Coral Howl looking through the Myrish Eye toward the port he and the fleet had sailed from the day before. The pirate ships were racing toward it, their oars flashing through the water rapidly, propelling them forward. He was too far away to know when Daemon would blow the horn signalling the battle was beginning, but the shift in speed of the pirate vessels was all he needed to know it was time.
"Hard to port!" he called out, knowing the men on deck would relay the helm. "Bring us around into the wind!"
While the pirate fleet had to tack slightly with the wind, because of where they had sailed this morning, Jaeronos' fleet lay southeast of the port, meaning the wind was almost directly behind them. when combined with the rested men who would be rushing to man the oars, that would carry his fleet into the battle quickly. The trick was going to be getting there before Daemon and the men in the port were overwhelmed, and before the pirates, seeing his fleet incoming, decided to turn tail and run.
On either side of him, Jaeronos could hear men moving, those men readying the four scorpions that rested on the bow of the Howl . The others would be aimed forward as best they could, but these four – along with the pair at the front of the smaller galleys – would be the primary ranged weapons the fleet would use. There were a few dozen bows stored on the Howl and some of the galleys, but none had the range of Cregan's weirwood bow.
As he felt the wind ruffle the back of his skull, signifying the ship had turned to be carried by the wind, he issued another order. "Signal the galleys. V formation, off-centre to port!" The formation was a basic one, but with the need to hide their intent over, it would allow the galleys to spread out and bring their scorpions to bear. The extra command would mean that two galleys would be to the Cowl 's starboard, allowing them more chance to intercept any pirate vessel that tried to escape back to their home ports.
The damaged galley, without repaired sails, would trail behind, with the men there given the chance to prove they had some use by trying to keep up with the rest of the attacking fleet with just oars alone. Further back, the Pride of Saltbrook would also turn, though it would bank away from the damaged galley just in case those men tried to take the cog. While the cog lacked extra warriors onboard, the crew were trusted, trained, and should be capable of repelling any attempt at betrayal from the damaged galley if the men there chose to try their luck and turn their cloaks again.
Ideally, Jaeronos would have preferred for the Pride to sail away, heading back to Dustspear. However, while the winds were currently favourable, the ship would have to travel without escort, and that was not something he or Cregan were willing to risk. Therefore, it would remain close to the fleet, but far enough back that it should not be threatened by the battle the Howl now raced toward.
With just three galleys to support the Howl , they would be undermanned if the engagement was to be a purely naval one. However, today that was not the case. Instead, they were the hammer against Daemon's anvil, designed to crush the pirate fleet between them.
… …
… …
(Daemon's POV)
His blade came up with his arm, the point of the blade along with some of the top section, slashing against and then through the gambeson the pirate wore. At the same time, his shield arm was shifting, angling the metal to deflect away the attack of another pirate.
The man his blade had caught turned, the wound deep enough to unbalance him, and as the steel slipped free, blood gushed forth from the wound. Daemon turned, using his shield to guide the attack of the other pirate further away, and straightened his arm.
The point dug in deep, drawing a grunt from the second pirate even as the first fell to his knees trying desperately to hold in his steaming guts. The man was not dead yet nor was the one Daemon had just stabbed, but in the melee of battle, Daemon was not moving to ensure they died quicker. There were too many opponents, too many men seeking his head, for Daemon to risk diverting his blade down, removing it for a few seconds from being able to defend and attack against the next rush of pirates who came at him.
Through the slit in his helm, as he pulled his sword free of the side of the pirate he had just stabbed, he saw two more rushing toward him; one of Dameon's men falling to the ground half a yard behind them, blood flowing from a deep wound to his gut.
Ever since the pirates had beached half their galleys, and Dameon had blown the horn signalling the counterattack, this had been the pattern of battle. The moment he had stepped into the light, even with his armour darkened, the pirates had understood that he commanded the defences. That his death would win them the battle and grant them a greater share of whatever loot they could find in the aftermath.
That, however, was exactly what Daemon relied on. Aside from Vaegon with his massive axe and a few pirates wielding maces or hammers, none of them had weapons that could seriously threaten his plate armour. That didn't mean he was letting blades get too close—far from it. But if a strike did manage to slip through his defences, he trusted the armour to deflect the blow or lessen its impact enough to prevent a serious wound.
The pair reached him just after he'd readied himself to face them, both wielding falchions. Under the helm, Dameon smirked, looking forward to what was coming. They rushed at him together, not flanking as they should.
His shield pushed forward, blocking their strikes, and then a turn of his arm lifted the base upward. As the falchions were lifted and pushed away, Daemon stepped forward. His sword flashed out, sinking deep into the gut of one pirate. The blade was pulled back, and the pirate staggered back, one hand coming to the mortal wound he now had.
A quick rotation of his elbow and the sword swept to the side, slicing the chest of the other pirate. The blow was not fatal, but it forced the pirate to turn and stumble away; right into the blade of one of Daemon's men.
His smile widened as he turned to seek his next foes, and Dameon noted that it would have been his sixteenth kill of the battle. While it felt as if time was flying past, he could see that the last of the pirate galleys was only now reaching the docks; the first of its men leaping over to join the fighting on the wooden planks that ran from the beach to the two moored galleys.
A pirate charged at Daemon, swinging a mace with brutal intent, forcing him to consider his approach a fraction more carefully as he turned to face the new challenger.
Daemon braced his shield, letting the mace crash against it with a dull thud, absorbing the blow. His sword flicked out, aiming for the man's arm, but the pirate was quicker than anticipated, swinging the shaft of his weapon just in time to deflect the blade.
A grin tugged at Daemon's lips—finally, something resembling a challenge. The mace came around again, aimed at his pauldron, but Daemon shifted his stance, raising his shield to block the strike. At the same time, his sword cut upward in a swift arc, slicing into the pirate's arm. Blood seeped from the wound, but the man barely reacted, save for a grunt of irritation.
Daemon moved back, dodging the upward swing of the mace, and prepared to counter the next strike. But out of the corner of his eye, he caught movement—a second pirate lunged at him, his blade clashing against Daemon's shield. The angle of the shield deflected the blade toward the first pirate.
The stumble of one pirate forced the other to halt his attack, throwing him off balance. Daemon seized the opportunity.
He pushed forward, thrusting both shield and sword. The shield collided with the body of the second pirate, while his sword found its mark, sinking deep into the leg of the mace-wielder.
As he drew back his blade, ready to finish the job, a sword burst through the pirate's chest from behind. Blood spewed from the fresh wound and the man's mouth as he crumpled to his knees.
Turning to deal with the other pirate, Daemon saw the one holding the blade had been his squire. While he disliked losing his kill, he was pleased to see Jekar fighting and taking advantage of his smaller stature to strike from behind. A knight should have honour, but it had little place on a battlefield.
Daemon's sword came around, the edge slicing the pirate he'd just driven back with his shield across the chest. The blade sliced the armour with ease, though it failed to find purchase in flesh.
The pirate stepped back, trying to put distance between them, but Daemon advanced. His blade came back around, circling in the air due to a turn of his wrist. The blade once more slashed the front of the pirate, though this time Dameon felt greater resistance, and as the metal swooped clear, the pirate lifted a hand to his chest; the armour darkening as blood flowed from the wound.
Another turn of his wrist and arm, and the point of the blade sunk into the pirate's stomach. Daemon stepped forward, ensuring the blade drove inward, and the pirate grunted in pain. As the blade was pulled clear, the shield came around, slamming into the pirate and sending him away.
As the body crashed to the ground, Daemon was turning, seeking new targets. His blood pumped, loudly demanding his blade find more flesh to feast upon. Seeing pirates fighting his men nearby, and with their backs turned to him, he advanced, preparing himself to strike.
As his blade thrust through the back of the nearest pirate, Daemon swung his shield around, angling the edge. It slammed into the head of one pirate, catching him on the side of the face as he turned. The blow drove the man into the one next to him, and the pair fell over.
With that chaos caused, the remaining upright and uninjured pirates reacted, turning to deal with the commotion. That left them exposed to Daemon's men to finish them off, and with that Daemon turned, seeking another target. He'd barely begun the search before a group of four came toward him.
Stepping forward, he set his feet and angled himself so none might flank him while in their initial assault. The men he had just helped would, once the pirates they faced were confirmed down, join him, and cover his flanks, but Daemon wanted the group dead before then.
His blade flashed out; sweeping and twirling to deflect two attacks in one flowing move. Altering his arm, another strike toward him bounced away as it struck his shield. The fourth pirate though was able to take advantage as Daemon saw the heel of an axe grasp the side of the shield.
Knowing what was coming, Daemon loosened the tenseness of his arm and stepped forward. The axe pulled the shield to one side, the pirate planning to use the move to expose Daemon to attack. Because of his movement, however, the plan failed and a grunt slid from the pirate as Daemon drove his blade into the man's gut.
As the axe slipped from the side of his shield, Daemon pulled the blade back, turning his arm to widen the internal damage. The shield pushed out, knocking back the man who'd had a blow deflected by it before the axe had caught the edge. In the same move, Damon turned to face the other two of this latest group of pirates to face him.
His sword came around, the edge clashing against the blade of one of the pirates, pushing it aside. The weapon continued onwards, and with a roll of his wrists, the point slashed the pirate's arm. The wound was not deep, nor enough to cause the pirate to lose their weapon, but the point of the cutlass dropped even as Daemon's blade continued past them.
It clashed against the steel of the final pirate even as Daemon's shield, angled high, crashed edge-first into the arm of the first of the pair of pirates. While his sword was unable to push the blade it was clashing against back, the wielder of that blade had to step back, lest they be knocked over by their stumbling companion.
The moment the blades were free of each other, Daemon pulled the blade toward his shield. The steel dropped low, slicing clean through part of the stumbling pirate's thigh. The man fell to the ground, cutting off his companion from attacking even as Daemon turned back to the third pirate that still stood.
A weapon crashed against his shield, driving Daemon's arm back, and slowing his turn. Movement at the edge of the shield revealed this pirate had shifted weapons, and now wielded a mace. The weapon pulled back, readying itself for another strike.
Daemon didn't allow it to do so and thrust his blade low under the base of his shield. The attack missed flesh, but it forced the pirate back ensuring they could not then attack him. As Daemon readied himself to strike again, wary of the pirate to his right that was moving around the fallen companion, the one with the mace grunted.
A second later, he looked down as the point of a blade burst through the side of his stomach. The blade was pulled clear, slashing through flesh and organs in the way. As the man fell, Dameon once more saw that Jekar was responsible for the opportunistic attack.
Smiling at his squire, though the boy would not see it, Daemon pivoted, sweeping his shield out as he turned. That ensured the pirate to his right was unable to take advantage of Daemon's position. At least not until Daemon was fully facing them.
As the pirate's cutlass came down, Daemon pushed his arm forward and his blade sunk deep into the pirate's chest, piercing one lung. Daemon continued to turn, dragging his blade free and widening the wound so badly that on the way free, he felt it scrape against bone.
The pirate slumped forward, dead before his weapon had slipped from his grasp, and Daemon found himself facing his squire. Jekar's expression was partially hidden by his helm, but it was clear that the boy was adapting to the chaos and bloodshed of battle well.
Sensing movement behind Jekar, Daemon shouted, "Down!" The squire froze for a second, caught unprepared for the command, but he obeyed in time that the blade swinging for his neck did nothing more than clip the very top of his helm.
Jekar fell to one side, his blade hand pressing into the dirt to prevent him from falling even as Daemon advanced. The slight deflection from Jekar's helm had taken the pirate's blade high, exposing the man's side and Daemon made sure to not miss.
The pirate seemed to freeze in place as Daemon's sword sunk deep into his side under his arm; the blade facing almost no resistance as more than half the blade disappeared into flesh. The man began to fall, and Daemon was forced to release his grip, lest he be taken down as well.
Even as he reached back for a new weapon from his belt, a pirate rushed at him, blades in each hand. Not wanting to be forced back, Daemon stepped toward the pirate, pushing his shield outward. Metal scraped against metal and as Daemon's fingers grasped the shaft of the axe at his hip, he felt the shield slam into something far more substantial.
Pulling the shield back, he saw the pirate tumbling back, and as he slid his axe free of its hoop, the pirate tripped over a body and fell to the ground. Not wanting the man to rise again, Daemon stepped forward, and then drove the axe down hard, slamming the bit into the man's chest.
The edge crashed through the pirate's armour, and one of the man's arms came up, grasping Daemon's wrist. Daemon pushed down, using his leverage to ensure the axe sunk deeper, and he quickly felt it catch against, and then wedge into bone.
Knowing the man was down, and that the axe was trapped, Daemon yanked his arm back; breaking free of the weak grasp the pirate had on him, and left the axe embedded in the pirate's chest. Turning, his hand moving for the next weapon he had, he saw Jekar standing over another pirate.
This time it appeared the squire had killed them from the front, and Jekar was already turning as the pirate fell, seemingly seeking the next threat. Sensing a lull in the battle, Daemon moved toward Jekar, ready to pull his squire to his side. Yet as he reached him, and with a short sword now in his grasp, Daemon saw that around them, the number of men on the beach and docks had thinned dramatically.
A horn sounded, and Daemon turned toward it, tensing. However, as his eyes took in the sight of the water, he understood that it was coming from Jaeronos' fleet. As others turned at the sound, those who knew Cregan's sigil cheered while those who had attacked the port started to panic.
Many threw their blades down and fell to their knees, begging for mercy. Others raced for the galleys, hoping to slip them into the sea and break through the fleet bearing down on them. A handful continued fighting, but with the majority defeated or retreating, they were quickly being overwhelmed. Daemon even saw one pirate turn on his fellows and stab the others in the back before tossing his blade down.
With the battle in its dying embers, Daemon slid the short sword back into his sheath and placed his hand on Jekar's shoulder. The boy tensed, his blade coming around until he understood who had grasped him. "Are you well?" Daemon asked, seeing that Jekar's face was red, and his breathing laboured.
"Y-yes, Ser."
Daemon nodded and gave Jekar's armour a solid pat. "Good." Seeing the colour still on Jekar's face was a relief; it meant the boy was handling this battle better than before. "You fought well today, even saved my life a few times." That was a stretch—none of the pirates Jekar had killed could have reached him unless Daemon had been sloppy. Still, seeing Jekar's chest lift and his shoulders square showed that the words had bolstered the boy's courage, which was exactly what Daemon aimed for. "Later, once we have taken the rolls, secured the prisoners, and dealt with the bodies, we will talk more about today. If there is time, we might even resume your training, so you are better prepared for the next fight."
Jekar nodded, though Daemon noticed the boy's eyes widening at the thought of training so soon after battle. Daemon had endured similar gruelling sessions while squiring for Prince Oberyn and knew that if Jekar were with the Prince, training would have started even earlier. Daemon was not as harsh as Prince Oberyn, at least not for now, but he was not about to let Jekar slack off.
"Come on then. Help me tally the cost of this battle and see what spoils we have earned."
Daemon turned and moved toward the docks, wanting to see what condition the ships there were in, and how soon the pirate ships docked there could be readied to sail with Jaeronos' fleet. Already prisoners were being led down the docks and along the beach to one central location.
As he reached the base of the docks, one of the two pirate galleys that had pulled alongside instead of beaching had cast off its moorings. Men ran over the docks, trying to prevent the escape, however Daemon was not concerned. The ship was under-crewed and to escape would have to sail directly at the Cowl and its escorts. The odds were high that the men there would surrender after only a few bolts were fired at them.
The other attacking galley at the docks already had some of his men onboard, though they were caught between securing the remaining crew there or dealing with the galley that was trying to escape. Elsewhere, the four galleys that beached in the attack were being emptied. While Daemon doubted they carried much loot, any extra weapons would be useful for the battles to come.
Glancing at the growing group of prisoners, Daemon estimated around a hundred had already gathered, with at least the same again on their way or still fighting. That suggested a high number of deaths among the pirates, and Daemon hoped it was not repeated among his men. Most here had come with them to Redwater, and as such were more trustworthy than those who had bent the knee recently.
The prisoners would get their chance to join their ranks, but Daemon knew that could wait. First, the galley had to be secured and Jaeronos sent on his way. Once Ymir was back with Bronn, Daemon would speak with the prisoners. He might not have anything like the connection to the direwolf that Cregan held, but the simple presence of the beast was effective in ensuring men understood their choices.
As the galley that had slipped away slowed, the men there throwing up their hands after a volley of bolts from the Cowl had struck them, Daemon's gaze turned northward. He could not see where Cregan was, but he wondered what his friend would do. Would the Wolf of Dorne take the easy path and secure Rakakz's southern port, or would he, as Daemon half-expected, turn his gaze further northward?
… …
… …
(Cregan's POV)
Looking down through Rian's eyes, I scanned the island that lay between the two closest of Rakakz's ports. After watching the battle far to the south through the eyes of a gull, I'd spent most of the last few days surveying the island controlled by Rakakz and Allerion Redbeard with my focus on the ports of the former.
After some consideration, I'd decided to attack the northern port. While it was the more dangerous option, as I held a far smaller advantage in men, and the two galleys there could be launched by fresh men against the tired crews of the Kraken and Revenge , the reward for taking it was far greater.
Jaeronos had his fleet, which was four vessels including the Howl closing in on the southern port that Rakakz held on the eastern coast of Redwater, and with there being but twenty men there, he'd leave two galleys at most to secure it. The Howl and the remaining galley would then head north to reinforce me, doubling the men I'd have at the northern port. Well, as the battle for this port was going to be a hard slog, those reinforcements would be more than double the number of men I'd have after it was over. Even after forcing those there to bend their knee, if I came out close to being able to crew both my ships fully I'd be happy.
Daemon had done well in the battle defending the port and leading Rakakz's fleet into the trap. All six of the attacking galleys had been taken without damage, and one had left to escort the Pride back to Northpoint. From what he'd told me – via Ymir – they'd lost about eighty men during the battle. Over two hundred had surrendered to him, with all but a handful bending the knee.
The issue now was that the forces Dameon and Bronn had under their command were about eighty or ninety per cent composed of men formerly loyal to Vaegon and Rakakz. I knew this was going to be an issue as the campaign on the island continued, but I had not expected to run into the issue until I was engaged against Allerion.
What made it even worse was that a good percentage of the men who'd died defending the port would have been sellswords. By and large, each of them was worth four or five pirates in combat, and their loyalty, which was secured with coin instead of fear for most of the former pirates, was more secure. Once Redwater was wiped clean, and I returned to Northpoint, I'd have to see about having someone return to Sunspear to hire more men.
I wanted to do that personally, to see how Asha and the child that grew in her belly were doing, but I suspected I'd not have the time. Deciding on what to do with a pirate-free Redwater, and how to target The Whores and Grey Gallows, would take precedence. At least to the degree that I doubted I would be able to spare, at best, the moon-and-a-half it would take to sail to Sunspear and back.
Movement down below caught Rian's attention, and I was pleased to see it wasn't another rabbit that he was considering hunting, but men moving along the path that ran between Rakakz's two ports. While the path was straight, the initial scouting I'd done while Rian had been further south had failed to reveal that the path wasn't as flat as I had believed.
While not twisting around a hill as the path between Vaegon's ports had, the path rose high enough that, having looked at it from east and west, it was clear that the men in one port couldn't see the other. To counter this, and showing he was smarter than Vaegon, Rakakz had set up a small watchtower at the peak of the path, about halfway between the two ports.
The tower was only ever manned by two men, and from what I'd seen over the last few days, where they came from alternated. Those heading there in the morning and at sunset came from the bay port while those taking the position at midday and midnight came from the port on the eastern shore. As the watchtower needed to be taken out, then the time to do it was at some point in the morning after the handover had taken place from the bay port. The issue was that, between the eastern ports, there was no easy point on the shore where men could land to target the watchtower. At least not without being in sight of one of the ports. While I could wait for Jaeronos to take the southern port and then land men near that, the hike to reach the watchtower would take several days and mean passing over or around a collection of small mountains that rose in the centre of the island.
As my ships had sailed north, far enough out that they would not draw attention from men in the ports, I'd pondered this issue and devised a plan. It was risky, but if it worked, not only would it take out the watchtower, but if anyone discovered the attack, they would not understand why it had happened.
Aboard the Kraken, I had four mind-broken gulls still available to me. Those birds were expendable, especially as I'd seen hundreds of gulls and other birds on and around the island since arriving. Because of that, I was considering using the foursome to attack the watchtower. While not the fastest of birds, the gulls were large and their beaks solid. If one struck the chest of a man, provided the beak struck true, the man would die from the beak piercing his internal organs. Hells, even if the beak didn't do that, the sheer velocity of the bird as it struck might well crush a man's chest; at least enough that another attack could finish them off.
One problem with the plan was that I didn't have time to slip from the mind of a bird attacking the port, back to one on the Kraken , and then fly it toward the watchtower to attack. I needed both men down at the same time, which would mean using all four birds at the same time. In theory, that was possible to do, and I'd practised taking over the minds of the four gulls while they were in their cages. The problem was that it was far more stressful to maintain control over all four at once, and if I spent more than five minutes inside their minds when I slipped back to my body I was assaulted by an insanely powerful migraine.
Another issue, if I could overcome the strain and after-action migraine, was that to ensure the birds struck true, I would have to stay in their minds until they struck the pirates. While the targets might survive the impact, I knew the birds wouldn't, which meant that if I was a fraction of a second too slow in slipping from their minds, I'd experience them dying.
Now, I'd already had that experience in my memories, but there was no emotion attached to it, no rush of terror in that final second before death. From what little rules there seemed to be about skinchanging, that wasn't against them, but it was hinted that experiencing death through the eyes of an animal was a dangerous action; one even those who worshipped the Old Gods did not approve of.
Even if I did everything right, and only two gulls were needed to kill the men at the tower, and I slipped from the minds of the birds in time, there was still a major issue that remained. The port we would be attacking was placed in such a location that, while not heavily sheltered from storms that might move northwards from the Summer Isles, it had clear sight of a massive stretch of open ocean. Even now, if they chose to do so, they'd see my two vessels sailing north, though given we were far to the east, almost halfway to Lotus Shores, they wouldn't consider us a threat. However, that would change the moment we turned toward them.
To help delay how long it would take them to spot us, once the sun set, we'd be turning westward. The night, even with a waning moon, should cover our approach for a time. At least so long as we limited the light we emitted as we sailed. When the sun rose tomorrow, if all went well not only would we be much closer to the port, but the sun would be directly astern.
That was the rough tactic Rakakz's fleet had used to approach my port and there was something poetic about using it against him, and this time ensuring we were directly shielded from coastal sight by the sun. Now, the sun wouldn't keep us hidden for long, but if, by the time the men in the port saw us bearing down on them the watchtower was taken, then there was no risk of men from the bay port coming to support the eastern port.
Ideally, we would get close enough that, by the time they spotted us, it would be too risky to get their moored galleys underway. Even if they did, they would not be able to send full crews out as that would leave the port all but deserted. Also, with the extra scorpions that my vessels carried, along with my weirwood bow, my fleet had superior firepower to, if not overwhelm, then at least drive the galleys back to the port. The problem was if a galley slipped its moorings and then turned to run.
Logically, they should head south, and run into Jaeronos' fleet. The Volantene was aware that this was possible, so he should move to attack that galley, but just as if a galley headed north, there was a risk there would be a galley of Rakakz's men floating somewhere in the sea between Redwater and Lotus Shores. That would mean I'd have to make sure it was taken care of before moving against Rakakz's final port in Redwater Bay.
The only possible way that a galley escaping might not be an issue was if they sailed to the east and were attacked and captured by the Lotus Prince or Salladhor Saan. Those two, in theory, were unlikely to be kind to pirates that enslaved others, especially the Lotus Prince who was known to string slavers up whenever his men captured them. The only time he didn't was when they were crew aboard a trading vessel that paid the toll to pass Lotus Shores.
Through the eyes of Rian and gulls, I'd seen ships around that small island bearing green sails, which I took to be how the Lotus Prince marked his vessels. However, until I had to deal directly with him, or spoke to captured pirates who sailed this section of the Stepstones, I'd not know that for certain.
As the sun slowly slipped over the western horizon, I instructed Rian to head back to the Kraken. Like me and my men, he needed to rest for tomorrow. With that done, I slipped from his mind and returned to my body. Turning slowly on my bed, I looked around the cabin. Some food was placed on the small table nearby, but otherwise, the place was as it had been when I'd slipped into Rian's mind not long after lunch.
Outside my door, Edric and Trystane would be waiting, the pair acting as guards while I was scouting the island. Both had seen battle when taking Vaegon's ports, but I'd not been in the thick of battle in either engagement, thus neither had they. Tomorrow, when we assault the port, they would get their first true taste of battle, and the chaos and carnage that came with it.
After I'd broken my fast, I'd summon them in and speak with them about what to expect and do. The pair would stay close to me, but as I'd be wearing most of my armour, and with my surcoat proudly bearing my sigil – the same one that flew on the sails of my vessels – the pirates in the port would be drawn to me like moths to a flame. Edric and Trystane would thus be close to the centre of battle, but with their training, and the fact I'd be in plate and have Red Rain at my side, I knew they'd be fine.
After that I'd speak with my men, making sure the commanders knew the layout of the port, and how to deploy their men once we reached the shore and a good night's rest would be taken by as many men as possible. While some would man the sails and oars, those who would lead the charge tomorrow would be ordered to bed.
Tomorrow we'd be in battle once again, and while there were parts of my plan that I had concerns about, barring anything disastrous, the day would be ours.
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A/N: That's us 3/5ths of the way through the Redwater arc.
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This story is cross-posted on Questionable Questing, Archive of our Own and Royal Road.
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