Chapter 13
Raventree Hall, a year later, 235 BC.
Huginn hopped down from his shoulder and turned his head from the letter in front of him, his sharp eyes turning towards Lucas as though looking for a reaction from his bonded. Lucas himself was lost in thought because of the letter on his desk. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he turned to his raven.
"Get your brothers and their masters and my wife." He told the raven. The Ravens bonded to his family were incredibly smart and could communicate with each other, and very quickly, they had realised they could use their ravens to fetch each other. He and his wife had, and though she did not have one, the ravens very quickly learned to obey the stern woman and did her bidding nearly as much as their bond mates. Each Blackwood held a unique bond with their raven, and they seemed to communicate to their bondmate. The ravens, by listening and watching, and the Blackwoods were able to make out how their ravens felt or thought about what they were saying by listing to their caws and sounds and watching their body language. However, his younger son's one seemed to be just as bright as his bondmate and had already learned enough words to have a conversation on the level of about a four-year-old. It was pretty disturbing to watch even for him and certainly disturbed the non-Blackwood who witnessed it.
His raven, Huginn, named after one of Odin's raven whose name meant thought in Norse, seemed to give a slight nod and flew off to do as bid, leaving Lucas to ponder their bonds with the ravens. He knew he was from an old bloodline, stretching back as far as the Starks to the Wolfswood of the North and the age of Heroes in the south, and in cannon, he knew that the Blackwood produced at least one, though likely a lot more, wargs. Perhaps their bonds were a more passive form of warging that allowed him and his children to bond with a single animal. Though blood raven, whose mother was a Blackwood, was a powerful greenseer and the three-eyed raven himself, for God's sake. That led him to believe that his family had at least some dormant warging ability that would reveal itself in other members of his family in due course. He thought only his daughter showed the potential for having the ability right now. However, she was still too young for him to be sure, even if she seemed to have the deepest bond with her raven.
His thoughts were halted by the sound of the door to his chambers being opened, and he looked up to see one of the royal guards holding up the door for his wife and two sons. He nodded at the guard, who bowed and left to return to his post. His wife walked over behind the desk and sat on the edge of his chair, leaning over to give him a peck on the cheek as his two sons took the two chairs on the other side of the desk as their ravens all flew in the windows to land on their bonded shoulder. However, Huginn took the shoulder closest to his wife to get some attention and pets from her, cunning bastard he was.
"What did you want for, father?" Asked Louis while Brynden just waited, knowing his brother would ask any question he could think of anyway. While his wife was already reading the letter on his desk unashamedly, knowing he would not be annoyed.
"It's written in the ruins of the first men, my ruin reading isn't perfect, but I can understand it well enough." She said, handing it over to Louis, who began to read it allowed for his brother's sake and to correct any mistakes either his mother or father had made. The boy was brilliant and had demanded his education be expanded past the standard basic runes that most older families taught their children, something both his parents had eagerly encouraged.
"To King Lucas 'the Great'
Blackwood, King of the Trident and Lord of Raventree Hall.
I, Lord Robar Royce, Lord of Runestone, am contacting you regarding a critical and secretive matter. Hence the runic writing, I do not wish for the tin men to find this letter.
Since the coming of the Tin men, the First Men of the Vale, have as you are no doubt aware, rebelled and rose against them in failed attempts to drive them out. However, over the past thousand years, more and more of the first men houses have been thoroughly Andalised; they have forgotten their ways and are now the twigs that keep the Falcons nest secure. However, there are those of us that still hold to the old ways and the God's in secret. The houses of Royce, Waynwood, Hunter, Belmore, and Redfort have not forgotten our ways. We are as such, obviously, against any war with our cousins in the Riverlands. That being said, alone, we do not have the power nor the might to rise successfully against our liege, nor are we willing to stab him and his men as they sleep like cowards. We will, however, be amiable to abstain from sending our main force to join the hosts of the tin men as they arch out the Bloody gate due to the 'threat' the Riverland navy and mountain clans pose to our keeps. In return for this boon, the first men of the Vale would rule once more, the Old Gods would return to the fore of the Vale, and your eastern border would be secure. Should you wish for it, my eldest son is of an age with your daughter, and I would be more than happy to have your daughter as the next queen of the Vale alongside my son. "
"That… is a lot to take in," Brynden said, and Lucas could practically see his eldest child's mind whirling with countless futures, reasons, possibilities, and outcomes. "It could be a trap, made by the Arryns."
"It could be, but would Lord Royce have gone through the effort of writing that entire thing in the ruins of the first men to lure us into a false sense of security. To me, that speaks of a man who desperately does not want his plots discovered." Lara argued.
"You're both right, but we lose nothing by agreeing to it once we don't rely on them too heavily and use discretion when dealing with them." Said Louis.
"Agreed, keep them at arm's length but accommodate for them rebelling in our plan," Lara said, and Brynden nodded in agreement.
"And what about his offer of a marriage alliance?" Lucas asked them.
"Sara is too young yet." Argued Lara.
"Now she is, yes, but we are not talking about marrying her now mother; having our blood on the throne of the Vale would be a huge boon and would secure two of our borders for at least two generations." Argued Louis.
"But the Royce's new power would need to be checked before they look further afield in the future, fighting wars in the name of their half Blackwood heir," Brynden said. "Give the sisters to the North."
"It's not an awful lot, but it is a power play and will remind them who's in charge." Agreed Louis. "Though I don't like marrying my sister off to a Valeman, even one from a firstmen house."
"I agree, and a case could very easily be made for marrying her into the Riverlands; stability of the realm is, after all, far more important than alliances outside of it. But this is a very reasonable alliance, one I do not think we could reject." Stated Brynden.
"I don't like it, but fine, but not until she is six and ten," Lara said sternly, and Lucas nodded quickly. He would not dream of marrying his daughter to someone at such a young age.
"Perhaps the young Royce could be fostered here after the war," Lucas suggested, and his wife nodded at that, comforted that she would at least get to know the boy who would marry her only daughter.
"If that's all, I was just about to go riding with Sara," Lara said, standing up and giving both her sons a peck on the cheeks as she left while the two of them stayed seated. Both of them shared glances at each other. A look Lucas recognised well from his days with his cousin.
"What did you two want to talk about?" He asked them, cutting in on their silent argument. The two shared one more glance before Louis spoke.
"We both have something we want to do." He said.
"And do you need to ask these things alone, or can your brother stay?"
"He can stay." Said Louis, and Brynden nodded in agreement.
"Go on then; what did you want to ask?" He said, speaking to his younger and more talkative son first.
"As you know, I have always loved books and learning. But I have already read every book there is to read in the library, and there is nothing left for Maester Nelson to teach me… I want to go to the university, to learn and study as much as I wish. In the future, I want to expand it into something more, something that can break the monopoly of the Hightower controlled Citadel and help to develop the Kingdom as a whole, to continue the work you have done." Louis said, "I want to transform it from the small and insignificant thing it is now into a great, unbiased centre of learning."
Lucas listened to his son as he spoke passionately for the next minute or so, explaining why he wanted to go, why he should be allowed to go and what he wanted to do there. He sat back further in his seat and sighed tiredly, rubbing his eyes as he thought about it. His son was a smart boy he knew, far smarter than anyone Lucas had ever met in either of his lives, but still, he was just a boy. Twelve years old.
"Louis… you're a child… as smart as you are, and as much as I know your value, you deserve a childhood, and besides, there is absolutely no way your mother would allow you to go," Lucas said. His son was about to open his mouth to argue, but Lucas held up a hand to stop him. "When you turn sixteen, I will allow you to go if it is still what you wish and in the meantime… I have been thinking about hiring some instructors and learned men from Essos to teach you and your siblings should they wish it, more advanced subjects." He said, and his son nodded happily while Brynden nodded as well though Lucas knew he was happy as well from the gleam of excitement in his blue-grey eyes. "But, You will marry as well, Louis, with your sister likely being betrothed to the Royce boy. You and your brother will need to marry Riverlander girls, your brother has already agreed to this, and a match is being arranged with the Mooton for their daughter Alys. You will need to think of another one."
His son just nodded at that; despite the rumours, some might say that his son was a homosexual or sword swallower as it was called here his son was not, not that Lucas would have a problem with it if he were once he married anyway to secure an alliance and help his brother.
"Is that all then, Louis? Are we agreed?" Lucas asked.
"Yes, Father." Louis agreed.
"Good, now Brynden. What do you have to ask me?" Lucas said, turning his attention to his older son. Lucas looked his son over once more, and he felt like he was looking at his fourteen-year-old self again. Brynden shared the same eyes as all his siblings, vivid blue and metallic grey mixed in a transfixing way. His face was angular like his fathers and had the same noble look about it though it was slightly more narrow, and he had inherited his mothers more stern resting face. He wore his raven black hair at a medium length, the curly locks framing his face though they were not long enough to get in the way or be used against him in a fight, a thing that was surprisingly common when someone lost their helmet. His body was another place that differed from his father, though still not greatly, where Lucas was more skinny yet still powerful enough. His son was more muscular and slightly taller; he was by no means bulky or huge he was well built and strong but still fast and agile like his father. And while Brynden would perhaps not be the swordsman his father was, very few could be, he was not a mile off, still better by far than most boys his age. He was equally deadly with a bow, a lance, an axe, and a spear.
He was clever, cunning and observative and took great interest in warfare and history, which was heavily encouraged by Lucas. He would never have the raw brainpower nor the ability to process and memorise information like his brother; he had more than enough brainpower to rule the Kingdom effectively. He was mighty proud of his eldest son, and though he wished his son was able to enjoy himself outside the company of those who were closest to him, he knew Brynden was by no means miserable or unnecessarily cold.
"I want to expand upon the standing army." His eldest said, simple and to the point as always.
"How?" Responded Lucas in the same manner.
"A ranger corps." Brynden said, pouring himself a glass of liquor which Lucas allowed but declined one for himself, motioning for his son to continue Brynden sipped his drink and did so. "An elite force, Longbowmen for the most part though they will also be capable with the sword. They will be trained in sabotage, infiltration, mapping, tracking, investigation, interrogation, assassination, kidnapping, forging and scouting. They will be mounted on light horses that the corps will be charged with breeding and training…." For the next twenty minutes, the two of them, with some input from Louis, discussed in-depth the training, role, use and organisation of this unit, until by the end they had gone through ten sheets of parchment until they had one they were happy with which ended up looking like this.
Skills.
Infiltration: A ranger should be able to break in and out of even the hardest to reach places.
Stealth: A ranger would be trained rigorously in camouflage and stealth to be completely undetectable by either animal or human.
Archery- Master Longbowmen capable of shooting much faster, further, accurate and for longer periods of time than even the professional longbowmen of the Blackwood Army.
Tactics and Planning: A ranger should be able to identify important locations, supplies, tactics, pathways and positions that could be used in a battle, and they should be able to command a small force of men effectively in battle or raids.
Close combat: A ranger should be proficient in armed and unarmed close combat with a throwing knife and an axe.
Horse-riding: Rangers should be able to ride for long periods of time, and each of them will own their own horse reared and trained for their line of work. Likely to be a mix of the Dornish sand steed and the Riverlander stallion to combine the raw power of the stallion and the endurance and swiftness of the sand steed. These horses will be bred and trained by the Rangers.
Fitness: They should be highly fit and be able to take the demands of the job.
Espionage and assassination: Rangers should be capable of forging signatures, seals and stamps; they should be able to pick locks, pickpocket, gather information and assassinate targets.
Tracking and scouting: Rangers should be able to track individuals, armies, animals or anything else across large distances over any terrain in any weather. They should be proficient scouts and be able to find out the makeup, numbers, morale and destination of an army and use their skill in tactics to predict what they might do next and potentially sabotage supplies, morale, information, tactics and anything else they might be asked to do.
Ravenry: Rangers should be able to send messages to their commanding officer or King from wherever they are stationed.
Training: Rangers will be allowed and expected to take an apprentice that they are expected to train for five years or until their master deems them ready. They will be regularly assessed at an annual gathering, and if they pass the first assessment, they are given their first raven's feather. Over the five years, they are given more and more responsibilities and may even go on missions on their own if deemed ready and are given a white raven feather. Should they reach sixty, they are required to retire and are given a steel arrow, a lifelong pension and a house in Ravensnest should they wish it.
Ranger Leadership: Rangers will be led by the Ranger Commandant, chosen by their fellow rangers with his approval. The Commandant doesn't go on missions; rather, he oversees the assignments and missions of the Rangers while also reporting to the Blackwood king directly.
Ranger roles and facts-
Rangers will be used to report on and keep tabs on the nobility, assessing loyalty, ability and readiness for war. Rangers will gather annually in times of peace, held in complete secrecy; it is restricted to only the Rangers and the direct royal family. Rangers should shroud themselves in mystery, and use rumours to spread that they use magic to complete their missions. Rangers will wear highly camouflaged cloaks of tight wool covering their face and offer protection from the weather. They are used in times of war to scout, sabotage or lead raids or other missions. Used to maintain order and peace in the Kingdom Used to assassinate or capture important targets. Used to gather intelligence and information for the King. Rangers horses will be highly trained, and the owner must know the name of the horse to ride it. The ranger must speak the horse's name before riding it, or it will buck the rider violently. Horses will be fit and able to run long distances as needed. Nobles are forbidden from joining.
"That is a lot," Louis said after they had finished.
"Aye… how are we going to start training them without masters to teach them? How many of them will there be?" Asked Lucas off his son.
"We will pick the best 2,000 archers in the standing army and whittle them down to 800 of the best. From there we will train them intensively, hire trainers from all over Westeros and across the narrow sea to instruct them and then choose the best 150, from there we can begin to expand it in the future to a size of about 700" Brynden said.
"It will be expensive and will take a long time… but I believe it could be worth it. You will be in charge of this, Brynden, and I expect you to take a large hand in organising and controlling it." Lucas said to his son, and Brynden broke out in a rare large smile, a happy grin appearing on his face.
—-
Deep in the Whispering Wood, A year later. 234 BC
Brynden sat atop his horse as on either side of him, the remaining 400 men of what had once been 2,000 longbowmen were being drilled mercilessly by their instructors; most of them were Essosi while others were the best of the Ravens or the royal guard. Currently, the men were being forced to hold up a heavy pole over their heads. It was the last trial before the next 100 would be sent away, leaving only 300, and after that, it was the last stage before the final 150 were picked to be fully instructed to become the first-ever Blackwood Rangers.
"Keep going, lads! You are the strongest, the best of two thousand of the best archers in the known world!" Brynden shouted as another man dropped his pole. This was the last test of the trial, which had also included tests on tracking, scouting, assassination, archery, wrestling, riding, camouflage and infiltration. More in depth than the first few trials which had just included the more basic things that would not give away the more secretive aspects of what they were doing, things like archery, riding, wrestling and scouting. And now, these men were the ones that remained. One hundred of them would walk away with thirty silver pieces for their troubles and a place in his or his father's retinues if they wanted it, which they would accept, no doubt; such a thing was a great opportunity and honour. It would also serve the purpose of keeping them quiet and giving him and his father good men in their ranks.
Ten minutes later, the last man dropped his pole, and the men gave tired rounds of applause for their collective efforts.
"Well done, men, each of you has earned your place here, and each of you showed how during this trial. However, we can only take 300 of you, and 100 of you will not be advancing to the next stage. However, you will not go home empty-handed; all of you performed these past few weeks admirably, and those that go home will be awarded thirty silver pieces and a place in either me, my father or brothers retinues should you wish for it." Brynden spoke, allowing some pride to leak into his usually calm and unemotional voice. "You may all retire to your tents now, take the rest of the night off but don't venture beyond the boundaries of the training area. Your instructors and I will retire to discuss which of you will stay and which of you will go. As always, come to one of us if you do not wish to advance further."
After that, the head instructors, specially chosen by him and his father, gathered in the command tent of the training area to pick which of these men would advance. It was a brutal process, even the smallest of mistakes or character faults were taken into account, and only perfection was accepted at this stage. After two hours of a thorough examination of results and character, they had their next 300 men. The next day the rejected men were given their silver and a place in the guard should they wish it, and unsurprisingly most, though not all, of course, accepted. These men were assigned to their respective royal and the next day left to take up their posts. They were leaving behind the last 300.
"The last 300… Each of you will now be given a location you are expected to go to. You will be released one at a time, five minutes apart and are expected to work alone to get there with nothing but the clothes on you and your bow and four arrows. It will likely take you a week or so; patrols have been sent out to try and find you. You are not, under any circumstance, to fight your way out or away from this patrol or any of your fellow competitors. This is a survival and stealth test, not a combat one. Are we clear?" He called, getting nods and sounds of agreement. "Good, first man up is Benjicot of Muddy Hall." He shouted, reading the first name off the list; the man was given a longbow and a knife and was given the name of the location and a very rough map. Five minutes later, the next man was released.
Chapter 14
Winterfell, five months later. 334 BC.
The letter in his hands made his old bones tired. War was upon them once more, and while his kingdom would indeed play a minor role in it, men would still die, he also knew his grandson would be fighting, or one of them would be anyway. By all accounts, Brynden was every bit the warrior his father was. The war had begun officially after raids were launched all across the border regions by the Valemen. Lucas had promptly sent him a raven with a message updating him on the situation. His heir and eldest son, Jorah, would lead a force of 9,000 volunteers across the bite from the White harbour as soon as the Vale Fleet had been defeated, which would likely happen in the next two weeks or so. As that happened, his Goodson would be splitting his army in two. Ten thousand would go south and watch the crownlands border led by Duke Kevan Mallister and Duke Jonos Adler; the two brothers would guard the coast and southern border while the rest marched east to face the host of Valemen.
The Royce's were going to lead a rebellion along with other first men houses; his daughter's husband had told him not to be sure of it as he couldn't completely trust the Royces, which Halton agreed with it. Had after all been a thousand years since the Andals came and more than one first men house had been Andalised in the Vale and even in the Riverlands, case in point being the Longwaters who had been made extinct by Lucas. However, they were not the only ones. Most prominent was the Reach here houses that were once proud first men could not be told apart from the Andals. The letter they had received was in runic was promising for a house that had forgotten their ways would surely not still be able to write in the ancient ways of the first men. Nonetheless, he would advise his son and good son that the Royces would be an excellent asset, but they were not crucial to their plans. Though Lucas, he was sure, was well aware of this.
The Road to Darry, south of the Red Fork, 334 BC.
The Valemen had caught him slightly off guard; his sources in the Vale had not warned him of anything unusual before suddenly the border region was being raided and burned. While the border was entrenched and the garrisons that had repelled the raids before bled the Valemen, they were vastly outnumbered. Multiple towns had been sacked, their people slaughtered and raped, and from what his scouts had reported, their heads mounted on pikes at the head of the Vale army, Godswoods had been burned. The sacred ground was defiled by relatively large raiding bands that retreated into the mountains not long after. That very day he got a raven from Lord Royce warning him that the Arryns had ordered the banners to gather. Not hesitating a moment, he had ordered four thousand men to reinforce Ravensport while sending another two thousand had been to strengthen the garrisons of the as yet untouched border towns and settlements. The ten thousand men who made up the royal army were sent to garrison the border until others could replace them. While the remaining four thousand not sent to reinforce met him and his levies on the road, as did his cousin Brynden, Tully, Adler, Paege, Lychester, Harlton and Smallwood, bringing his total force on the march towards the crossroad into 28,000. With still more men to join them from the Northern and Eastern counts. In total, he could raise some 45,000 men, but in truth, he would only be able to bring around 32,000 or so to face the Vale army of approximately 35,000. Though if the Royce's kept their word, the number should be only about 25,000. Still, though he would be marching to face them and in the foothills of the mountains of the moon, that meant he would be fighting an uphill battle should it come to a field battle.
But looking further south, his son's rangers had reported that 20,000 men were mustering. Initially, he had only planned on sending ten thousand to watch the Blackwater region. Still, the Darklyns had successfully united the crownlands under their rule or at least made them agree to ally together to face him. That meant he would need more men. However, he did not have many to spare, he could match both armies in equal numbers, but that would be a risky business considering the terrain and a whole host of other factors and sending more men south was needed. He would send an extra 5,000 men along with his son. Brynden was young, at only 14, but he was very mature and mainly had completed his education in the art of warfare. While he was still inexperienced, the Mallister brothers would be more than capable of giving him a hand. 15,000 against twenty thousand was still not good odds, and his son would be ordered to delay and not give battle unless he saw an unmissable opportunity. It was not perfect, but he had faith in his men.
To the sea, Kyle Mooton had been ordered to set sail for Gulltown; should the Vale fleet face him, it was to be destroyed. If it didn't, he was to sack Gulltown before sailing for White harbour, sinking the fleet of the sisters should it try and face him. He was on high alert to be wary of any trickery or ambushes that either fleet might employ as, no doubt, both would be aware they were outmatched and outnumbered and try and beat the Riverlanders in any way they could. However, their main job was to threaten the Vale coast, which was why he had ordered the sacking of Gulltown. The Arryns and their vassals needed to know that they could not leave their coast undefined and get off scot-free. In the best-case scenario, the Arryns send a couple of thousand men to defend the coast. In the worst-case scenario, they don't, and they look weak while he and his men get revenge for the brutal raids launched across the border.
The thought of him ordering the sacking of a city would once have been incomprehensible to him; the slaughter and carnage such a thing unleashed was brutal. Still, it was unfortunately not only was it commonplace it was needed and expected, his men expected loot and plunder, and on ships, most of what they would have got ended up at the bottom of the ocean, so they got it from raiding. However, while he knew and accepted this, the main reason was revenge. The scenes reported along the border were disgusting for him to hear. The reports were similar to the atrocities committed by the likes of the mountain with women and girls suffering the most, and he wanted blood for it. Those were his people, his vassals and his responsibility, and they were being raped, slaughtered and tortured because of it. He would not allow it and give as good as he got and if the gods judged him a monster for protecting his vassals, then so be it. He would rather be a monster than his people suffer at the hands of one. However, he had limits; children were not to be harmed under punishment of death and torture and rape were given the same. He had no doubt it would not be followed to a tee, and there was little to no way he or Kyle could enforce all the punishments the most severe and depraved cases were expected to be dealt with publicly and severely. He would not have the murder, torture and rape of children and women committed by men wearing his colours. The city was still ordered to be burnt, and anyone who resisted severely was to be killed; septs and holy sites were ordered to be defiled as had been done to his lands, and the castle was ordered to be burnt and sacked.
Such a thing would inspire fear and would force Hugo Arryn to act and defend his coastline or suffer the wrath of his angry vassals and scared smallfolk. Fear was an unpredictable but effective weapon he was not against using if it meant permanently stopping the raids on his lands and bringing about the end of the Andal rule in the Vale.
"You will be going with the Mallisters with another 5,000 men." He said to his son, who was riding at the head of the host alongside him and the Lords not leading a portion of it.
Brynden nodded in agreement as to the forest they had been riding through opened up into fertile cultivated fields of green that had a small stream flowing through it. They were around a days' march from what he knew to be the ruby ford, where they would cross before marching north towards the High road. Before that, however, they would meet the Mallisters, and their host of ten thousand made up mainly of the men from the Mallister lands and the northern Riverlands. At the same time, the men of the younger brother were in his host as Jonos had been visiting his brother in Seaguard when the war began. His men had been levied and ordered to join Lucas's host on the march by a raven.
"You will take the 3,000 Adler men and 2,000 of our men with you. Duke Kevan and his brother are experienced and talented commanders. While you outrank them, you know better than to abuse that, listen and learn from them and contribute what you can but do not think you are a better commander because I have given you lessons. These men are veterans of many battles and know what they are doing." He instructed his son, who nodded silently through Lucas knew he agreed with him.
"I take it we are not to engage the Darklyn's then?" His son asked
"No, you are not. Try to cause them as many problems as you can, delay their march, cause discord amongst them, raid their supply depots and the like. You will have 50 rangers assigned to you for this, do with them what you will but be cautious, listen to the Dukes." He told his son, who nodded again, though his hands fingered the pommel of his longsword on his waist, no doubt already thinking about how he would use them.
Four hours later, after a half-hour break, his scouts reported the Mallister host approaching, and they met with the two brothers in a command tent with most of the Nobles present.
"Your grace, we need more men," Kevan said after the meeting began.
"Agreed, my son will be going with you with 5,000 men, 3,000 Adler and 2,000 Blackwood. You will, however, still be outnumbered, my friend, but I can't spare more men, unfortunately." Lucas said.
"We understand, my King, the Blackwater is far less of a threat than the Valemen; should the Ravensnest fall, we would be in far greater danger than if the Darklyns managed to beat us." Said Jonos in agreement.
"We will try to delay their march as long as possible and deny them any engagement, frustrate them and give them disunited forces every chance to break up and angered lords to go home," Kevan said, and his brother nodded in agreement, as did Brynden.
"What news do we have from up north?" Asked his cousin, the elder Brynden, known as the Redwood, Lucas nodded to Kevan to speak as he and his brother had marched south and would have more up to date news.
"When we reached the crossroads, the Arryns had taken the second wall, and the third wall was up for grabs. However, the Arryns managed to sneak enough men through the mountains to stop the Erenfords from reinforcing. Duke Erenford tried to break the siege but was thrown back, taking heavy casualties; the Arryns likely know we are coming and would like to take the Nest before we reach them." Kevan said.
"This is good for us, and while the fort being surrounded is unfortunate, it is not the end of the world; the assaults will bleed them dearly for every step on those walls. The fortress is near impregnable and one wall being left in two weeks of constant assaults is very good, that they are surrounded matters little, they will hold for long enough." Said Duke Smallwood.
"Nearly but not impregnable, and if they can get some men through the mountains, they can get all of them with enough time." Agreed Lucas. "We need to force them away from the siege…."
"Yes, but how, my King?" Asked Duke Harlton.
"Would your rangers be able to sabotage their equipment?" Lucas asked the man in the light chainmail armour and camouflage cloak. It was clear to those in attendance that the man was lowborn; he held none of the aristocratic airs or looks that could be found in most nobles, and yet he was given a place at the council. Though the gathered nobles were aware of his position of Ranger commandant, the first one ever and one his heir son praises of, and one Lucas had been aware of since the first battle against the Brackens all those years ago. Back then, Asten of Fairmarket had been a young man of around twenty years and was a distinguished longbowman in the royal guard. While he had never been made a Raven, he had instead of being given the position of Sergeant within the Royal army Longbows. When it had been formed, it led a force of 200 Longbowmen that had been key in the battle at Seagard and border skirmishes and raids against the Valemen, becoming known as Three fingers. Because he had lost two of them to a Teague axe and yet was still a marksman of brilliant skill with just three fingers on his draw hand. He was a good man with a black sense of humour, but he knew what he was doing and excelled in the ranger training. Due to his loyalty, reputation, skill and good character, he had easily been voted by his comrades, recommended by Brynden and the other instructors and then approved by Lucas as commandant.
The gathered nobles were only half aware of his role; they knew he commanded an elite force of men trained in sabotage, infiltration, scouting, archery and the like, but precisely what they could do was a mystery for them. So the noses of many went up at the commoner among them. Lucas ignored them, of course.
"They could. Give me a weak sire, and I can make sure it's done." Said the commandant.
"Good, go to Captain Ewan of the engineers if you want the plans of the siege weapons; if not, get going," Lucas said, and the man nodded and then bowed before leaving. Count Fleamont, his bastard cousin, began to speak as soon as he did.
"Your Grace, I am aware that these men are highly trained but should we really rest our hopes on commoners?" Asked the man, Lucas trained his icy blue eyes on his cousin in one of his infamous glares that halted anything else the man was going to say.
"These commoners' as you put it, are as skilled at what they do as can be; I oversaw their training; personally, Count Fleamont, I assure you they will be successful." Said his son for the first time, that shut up his nobles who were either appeased by his infamously hard to impress son's praise or unwilling to insult men he trained and therefore Brynden and in turn him as well.
"My son speaks the truth, I assure you they will be successful, and if they are not, it is not the end of the world, the threat the fleet poses to the Vale and the north men landing on the sisters should be enough to make them at least send some men back behind their gates," Lucas said. "As it is, we need to be decisive in how we deal with the tin-men. We can not afford to leave the south army outnumbered for too long. We march tomorrow at dawn, Duke's Ryger, Charlton, Hawick, Mooton, Darry and other northern and eastern Riverlands."
The Ravensnest / The Nest, A week before, 334 BC.
"Archers! Throw the bastards back!" He called from atop the walls, his voice booming to be heard by all atop the tall and thick stone walls of the Ravensnest or simply 'The Nest'.
"You heard the commander! Throw the tin-men back!" Shouted one of the Longbow sergeants as they loosed a deadly volley of armour piercing triangular headed arrows which the King himself had recommended for piercing plate armour. Upon testing, it was found that these arrows were indeed the best around for piercing the plate armour worn in abundance by the Valemen. As proven by the men falling below them, though Clyde, the experienced soldier he was, could tell that it mattered little, this was just a testing wave, poking and prodding for any weakness in their defence. He would be damned if there was one to exploit under his watch.
The Nest was a great fortress, and it stood tall and proud along the high road. It was surrounded on both sides by impassable and unclimbable mountains making only one direction of attack possible, well, unless a force was attacking from the rear, of course. The Nest was not a castle. There was no keep, and there were no houses or homes within it. Instead, there were barracks, smithies, fletchers, boweries, stores, armouries, stables, carpenters, masons, and quarters for non-combatants or guests, most of which were located behind the three curtain walls that made up eastern defences of the Nest. Each wall was tiered so that arrows could be fired down from the wall behind the wall being assaulted while enemy archers could not use the walls against the defenders. Right now, the first wall was close to falling, four attacks had been launched, and four attacks had been turned back with heavy casualties.
The fortress being situated as it was between a mountain pass on the only road down to the Riverlands made it, so it was nearly impossible to siege. An enemy force could not get to the other side, so how could they stop them from being resupplied from the western side. They couldn't, so even as the fortress he was assigned to lead was packed to the brim with defenders. No one was going hungry as a steady supply of food was coming in the back gate, which was still under heavy guard; of course, he would not let this fortress fall because he was overconfident. And while his men had collapsed and blocked any mountain passes within miles of here, he would not take the risk; after all, this was the fortresses first siege, there could be problems that they had not expected or paths they had not found, though he doubted it.
An hour and four more small attacks later, he saw large amounts of movement in the Arryn camp.
"Battle positions." He ordered, and war horns sounded to signal another attack, though this time, it was much more significant a full-on assault. As all-around him, men got into their designated positions, and the Arryn army did the same. He saw the banners of most of the houses of the Vale, including the first men ones. There were at least enough banners for them to be there in full numbers, but then again, the estimated number of men each house could field was nearly a hundred years old. His King would not be happy that, as a trusted commander, he had been let in on the letter King Lucas had received and was ordered to report the estimated numbers of the first men houses.
"Commander! They have siege weapons this time!" Sure enough, one of the captains said that being dragged and drawn into views were ballistas, catapults, battering rams, siege towers, and a few other smaller weapons like scorpions and the like. In contrast, before assaults were launched with only ladders, archer fire, and three trebuchets to hit the walls, they now had more extensive archer support and better weapons to attack. Archers and crossbowmen were moved up and took shelter behind wooden palisades, though firing up at defenders behind battlements was ineffective, to say the least; it did serve the purpose of suppressing the defending archers. Missiles were fired from both sides to limited effect though more Valemen fell than Riverlanders by far. Soon, however, the siege weapons began to fire, and the bombardment of the outer wall began. Unwilling to let his men be bombarded to bits atop the walls, he retreated most of them down behind the second walls to safety though they would be able to return to their posts should an assault begin, which would no doubt be shortly. Sure enough, a few minutes later, an assault was signalled, and the men retook their positions as hundreds of Valemen began their assault. Earlier assaults had made the moat crossable on makeshift bridges that, while not pretty, were surprisingly sturdy, and some were able to take enough weight for siege towers to be pulled across while small barges were used in other places.
"Fire arrows target the ships!" He called. "The rest of you, bleed them dry."
—-
Nine days later.
The first wall was lost to them; some of it had collapsed, while other parts had been taken by sheer weight of numbers though he and his men had bled them for every inch. Nonetheless, he had called a retreat to the second wall with the 4,000 remaining men. The King had told them reinforcements would be coming within a day or so. The Erenford men had been redirected from the royal host and would be joining him within the walls soon.
The first assault of the second wall began with volleys of arrows at the men and equipment being pushed towards the walls. Many fell to the mighty longbow but still more came. Many hundreds of Valemen had already fallen to Riverlander steel and arrows, but they kept coming.
Three hours later, and the fighting on the walls was reaching a peak, even the slightest bit of a gap in a man's defence would cost them their lives as defenders and attackers swiped and stabbed desperately to take the bloody walls. Clyde himself was amongst the defenders, the grizzled warrior using an axe and heat shield to great effect as he buried the axe into the neck of a Vale levy. So far, the knights had not taken to the walls, which made him slightly wary as they were by far the best soldiers in the Vale and yet no more than a handful had made an appearance with those men only acting as commanders for the Vale levies. Another thirty minutes later and the Valemen retreated for the night. He walked along the castle walls; blood was being swept off the walls to make them less slippery, and dead men were being carried off while the injured who had managed not to be trampled or finished off where either tended to. In the case of the Riverlands and killed in the case of the Valemen, they did not have the facilities to care for them and better to not risk infections or the like, so the death of both kingdoms was thrown over the walls after being looted. However, red ribbons were tied to the Riverlander dead to be dealt with later.
Men took their sleep anywhere they could, with only about half of them ending up in the barracks as ordered by Clyde in case of a night attack.
Though five hours into the night, it was not an assault that woke them up, or at least not yet, the bells from the western side of the castle. Clyde had fallen asleep on the eastern wall though he was soon woken up by the shouting and horns on all sides. He ran over to the east wall and saw that another assault was being formed up, but his men were not rushing to their positions on the eastern walls but instead running to the western one.
"Sergeant, what's going on?" he said, calling to the first man he saw with a black raven's feather on his helm; the man stopped when he saw who was addressing him and spoke rapidly.
"A force of Valemen has gotten past the mountains, and we're surrounded on both sides!"
"Shit!" Cursed Clyde "Get men up on both sides; there's a man out there as well." Pointing out to the men gathering on the eastern side.
Hastily the defences were arranged with only the training of the professional garrison and soldiers letting them from up in time. Brutal combat ensued, and while quickly they realised fewer men were on the west side, they were the Knights of the Vale, and the defenders on both sides struggled to hold them.
Within two days, the second wall had been abandoned, and the momentum was with the Valemen. However, stubborn defensive work managed to hold the attackers beneath the walls of the last wall before the courtyard and large barracks of the fort where they would need to make their last stand should the third wall fall. In the next three days, constant battling took place upon the walls, no longer where the Valemen coming in waves, they would stay fighting on the walls until the night came and would repeat the same the next day, it was extremely bloody for them, but it worked to thin out defenders. Two days later, the defenders were stretched thinly and close to being thrown from the walls. Clyde himself was on his third axe, the other two being broken in battle, they had run out of arrows yesterday, and their bowmen went into the Frey as infantry in close quarters with their short swords and shields of falling comrades. A small mountain of bodies could be seen if one were to look down from the walls on both sides with bodies of both Andal and first men, Rivermen and Valemen, tree and statue worshippers, Blackwood and Arryn men.
Finally, as night began to set and the Valemen began their retreat, shouts went up from the defenders.
"Their camp's are on fire!" Called the watchmen, and sure enough, small fires could be seen within the camp, small mercy thought Clyde, maybe it will kill a few of the bastards as well. Like ants illuminated by a hearth, he could see the Valemen scrambling around their camp to try and put out their fires. "Commander! The weapons!" Called one of the watchmen pointing over towards the siege weapons that had been retreated from the walls, just in time, he saw one of the siege towers collapse like a sack of rocks, falling to the ground with apparent ease. They were being sabotaged, he realised.
"Ready the men! We will sally out the western gate and slaughter the tin men like sheep!" He called that if he could break the encirclement on that side, he and his men could be reinforced and resupplied; it was his only option, the King would not arrive for another week or so.
Five minutes later, he and his men were streaming out of the western gate leaving only 400 men to hold the walls; they met a hastily formed up shield wall of Andals, crashing into them like a wave and slaughtering many, though it was bloody work. Then suddenly he realised they were not winning, it was like one minute his men had been cutting through the Vale ranks like butter, and then his men were losing every engagement with more and more of them going down all around them, swallowed in the mass of Vale men. This was it. He had failed, his men were dying all around him, and the fortress would not hold with so few men. He must have killed twenty men. Still, the men he had been with had fallen. He was swallowed up amongst the Vale knights, hacked to bits and his body unrecognisable. His and the rest of his men's heads would soon adorn Vale pikes, and the castle garrison would fight until their last breaths. Still, it was not enough; their heads would join their comrades, their fortress would fall, and their kingdom was now open for the taking; the only thing opposing the Vale forces was their King and his army.