[Chapter Size: 3900 Words.]
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Third Person POV
Riverlands, 300 AC.
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After leaving the Lannisters' path, Jon began a meeting with his men. It would be their last meeting.
At that moment, they had found a place a little closer to the coast at the far north of the Blackwoods' lands and on the border of the Kaeth region, exactly as planned. Jon had already seen that region through the eyes of his animals in the sky. Now, he needed to say goodbye.
"As you know, I'm taking Arya and Lyman with me. I also intend to take the Mountain's mutilated body with me until I know exactly what I can do with it," Jon said.
Over the last few days, he had been sedating Gregor with a mixture of herbs he had been gathering and others he had modified in the Riverlands.
The region possessed an enormous variety of plants, flowers, and herbs capable of aiding his alchemy. Jon could even modify some of them to produce the effects he desired, creating quite powerful mixtures.
Some of his own potions were used to strengthen young Lyman. Another was so strong that it could bring down even an elephant, used on the Mountain, obviously. The giant remained unconscious day after day, as if he were in a coma.
Jon also possessed several potions for treating the wounded and left some behind for the men while they organized the preparations.
At the same moment they said their farewells and exchanged their final orders and information, Jon, Arya, and Lyman went to the giant eagle, where Caraxes was already waiting for them.
The weight of the three was not a problem, since Arya and Lyman were light, and Jon was not wearing his armor. Only the Mountain added some extra weight, but nothing Caraxes was incapable of carrying. He just wouldn't be able to make the trip directly and would have to rest at some point.
So, they would need to follow the coast and head toward the ships anchored near Pyke.
Caraxes left the camp at that moment, flying away, while they followed the coastline through the last regions of the Riverlands and the Westerlands.
As for the other group traveling on horseback, Lancelot, Barristan Selmy, and the other Kingsguards headed south with a group of nearly twenty people.
The ones staying behind would be Bari and one more of the men specialized in espionage trained by Jon Sakai. He would assist the force that was being created along with Arctic's force advancing onto the continent at that very moment, to recover some conquered castles.
Over the last few hours, young Lyman had been positioned between Jon and Arya while they traveled.
They found a place to land in the middle of the afternoon, already within the Westerlands.
Arya couldn't help but snort when she realized where they were, in the region of Banefort. She knew exactly what Jon was thinking when he left Caraxes and stood staring south.
His eyes were completely fixed there, turned back toward the south, even in that isolated valley where they had landed.
No one had any idea they were there. The place was surrounded by forests, and there were no cities, villages, castles, or roads nearby. It was a completely isolated place.
Upon seeing Arya's look and hearing the sound she made, Jon turned back to her. "I will return here with the army, Arya. I will make not only the Cleganes pay, but the entire West will pay for what they did nearly twenty years ago." He spoke in such a dangerous tone that even Arya touched his shoulder, concerned.
So there was hatred for the West. Arya realized that Jon would do something against that kingdom as soon as he set foot in the Westerlands.
In any case, they rested for a while until Caraxes recovered his strength. Jon made sure Gregor would not wake up, and then they continued their journey.
Three hours later, they finally found the fleet stopped at sea. As soon as the eagle's cry echoed through the skies, all the Arcticans knew what it meant.
The king's return.
Jon entered the line of hundreds of ships and went straight to the flagship, while Caraxes dropped the Mountain's mutilated body in the middle of the deck before landing shortly afterward.
"Your Majesty, you've finally returned," said the captain, while the Kingsguards also approached to greet him. The dwarves cheered, and the giants also came closer curiously. Likewise, all the leaders of the fleet turned their attention to the flagship.
"On the way here, we saw the more than forty ships advancing eastward. Were those all the men I requested?" Jon asked.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Jon now had around fifteen thousand men to deal with the West. He knew that Tywin had sent approximately thirty thousand soldiers, keeping the rest of the army stationed in King's Landing.
Tywin did not want to lose the capital under any circumstances and feared a major attack coming from the sea.
Even so, the thirty thousand men sent to the West were double his forces, but Jon was certain he could deal with that.
Arctic possessed strategic and technological advantages and, above all, a fleet capable of moving far faster than any army on land. And his control over battlefield information.
To the north, Jon also knew that the enormous fleet coming from the North had already passed the Manderly region and was advancing southward.
But he did not want Tywin to remain trapped in King's Landing. He wanted to lure him to the West. Tywin would never go to the West if he knew the truth about the fleet coming south.
That was why Jon continued preventing any raven coming from the North or the coast from reaching King's Landing while monitoring the entire region.
He was, essentially, controlling every piece on the board.
He wanted to face the Lannisters on their own lands. With them devastating the West, Tywin would have no choice but to advance.
At the same time, King's Landing would also be forced to react upon seeing more than fifteen hundred ships surrounding the city.
A sight that had never existed in the history of Westeros.
In any case, Jon turned his attention back to the men. "How are our prisoners?" he asked.
He was referring to the Lannister girls and the Northern lords who had been captured since the conquest and destruction of the Twins.
"Many were sent north as you requested, Your Majesty, but there were some problems, though nothing difficult to solve. Some women... well, they keep calling us monsters," one of the men said, scratching his head.
Jon shrugged. "Are they complaining about the rooms and everything we're giving them? If they keep acting that way, you can throw them in the cells. I don't care who they are." As he spoke, he glanced at Arya and Lyman.
The boy still seemed lost and cautious as he looked at everyone around him. Now he could see shining armor that would make any knight in Westeros look poor by comparison.
"I also want you to arrange a room for the boy. He will be under my care from now on. He will be treated as a guest in my name, understood?" Jon said, receiving nods of confirmation.
"I also saw that you've already managed to send all the ships north," Jon commented, referring to the forty ships captured at Seagard from the Ironborn, which were being used to transport yet another crowd of people from the Iron Islands to the Wall.
"Yes, Your Majesty. They've already been loaded with the former slaves. We assigned some men to accompany them, but that cost us around two thousand men in total," the captain replied.
Jon nodded. With the other three thousand heading to the Riverlands, they would be left with only fifteen thousand men.
"Well, we have no choice. We still have many factors in our favor," Jon said, not wanting to revisit all the calculations he had already made.
In any case, he needed a bath. "Now... I need a bath."
Arya immediately joined the conversation. "You can prepare a bathtub for me too. I'm tired of bathing in rivers. And I want my soaps and perfumes," she declared.
"Also prepare one for Lyman, along with his new room. He's still a child." Jon added to his personal servants.
While Arya was approached by her lady-in-waiting and pulled Lyman along with her, Jon gathered several men to hear reports about everything that had been happening.
Even though he had eyes here to keep watch over things, there was still information he couldn't obtain simply through the eyes he had scattered across the kingdom.
In any case, his men had put the finishing touches on the Iron Islands, which had practically been conquered. The Ironborn were being eradicated, with the exception of the force that was still gathering in Oldtown at that moment.
The situation had grown even worse after the death of their leader. The survivors were desperate to find out who would lead them now, especially after losing House Greyjoy completely.
Pyke was surrounded by the sea, everything they had plundered had also been captured by the Arcticans, they had lost almost their entire fleet... Basically, they had lost control of their lands.
Many of their relatives had died. Most of the active Ironborn had been exterminated... Jon wondered whether those last remaining Ironborn reflected on everything they had done during that war.
Perhaps now they felt some regret. After all, the outcome had not been favorable to them in the slightest. Everything they had conquered had been destroyed. The price paid by the Ironmen had been far greater than any temporary glory they had imagined they would gain.
Meanwhile, Jorelle was on another ship. She had been keeping her mother, Maege, company ever since she boarded the ships and had not returned to the flagship.
The two saw Jon's eagle land on the flagship.
"So we're finally heading to the West?" Maege asked after hearing her daughter's explanation.
Jorelle nodded. "Yes. Now the king is going to deal with the Lannisters once and for all."
"I see..." Maege sighed as she watched the ships moving across the sea.
Thus, the days passed. The fleet began to move, and its destination was now the West.
At the same time, the force composed of the forty ships finally docked in the southern region of Kaeth. Three thousand men disembarked and advanced inland.
They were received by the force that Jon and the others had created. Lord Sakai's man, specialized in infiltration, was also a warg. Because of that, they were already aware of the reinforcements' arrival and maintained constant communication with one another.
All those men and the boys who were being trained could not help but be shocked. They already had an idea of who Jon was and noticed how the Arcticans treated him, but no one spoke about it openly. It seemed to be an open secret that simply should not be discussed.
When they heard that he had departed with the main group, leaving only one man in command, they did not know what to think.
Then, finally, all those ships bearing the Arctican banner began advancing toward the beaches.
Their leader went to receive them. Men wearing heavy armor, giants, dwarves, and knights began disembarking from the ships along with the horses.
Orders were distributed. The three thousand men would move to destroy the two thousand Frey soldiers, catching them by surprise by attacking from the south. Lord Kaeth was already aware of the force, and he was now another lord who had surrendered to the Arcticans, just like House Mallister.
The Freys, however, were not very concerned at that moment. By then, they had already heard the rumors. They had heard that their castle had simply ceased to exist.
It was not something easy to believe. Quickly, a force advanced northward.
Under a group led by Hosteen Frey himself, the men grew even more nervous when they failed to see any of the great towers as they approached the region.
They knew very well that the towers should have been visible from a distance.
"This can't be true, right?" one of the Freys murmured while staring at the horizon.
"We'll waste time if we stay here. Let's move," Hosteen replied to another man, who swallowed hard.
It certainly was not pleasant to hear that your castle had simply ceased to exist. They continued advancing until they finally reached the open field where the Twins had once stood.
What they found confirmed their worst fears.
"How could this have happened...?" Hosteen Frey could not remain on his horse.
He immediately dismounted and fell to his knees. Before him lay nothing but ruins.
Mountains of stone scattered throughout the region. Even structures had fallen into the river, with parts of them still protruding above the water...
After that sight, not even the men accompanying Hosteen could remain mounted.
All of them dismounted. They immediately ran toward the ruins.
All they found were piles of stone. Many of them had clearly been moved.
The Twins were known for having extensive underground structures, and various looters had passed through the ruins over the past few weeks hoping to find gold or anything valuable while trying to uncover corridors buried beneath the rubble.
Because of that, when they saw knights arriving, many men emerged from among the debris before quickly fleeing. It was also possible to see several recently opened entrances created by the looters.
None of the Freys could believe what had happened. Their ancestral home had been turned into this.
"How could this happen? What are we going to do now?" one of the men asked.
"We're going to Seagard to find out what happened," Hosteen Frey replied. He had already realized that there were no more ravens flying through the Riverlands.
Thus, over the next two days, the Frey force of two thousand men finally reached the ruins of the Twins.
None of the men could believe that the Twins had been reduced to that. Mounted messengers were immediately sent to inform both the Lannister army that had remained behind and the forces positioned before Riverrun.
The Freys wept and trembled with fear, trying to imagine how someone had managed to reduce the proud House Frey to rubble.
What would they be from now on? Castles no longer seemed safe. If the Arcticans came, they imagined the same thing would happen to any fortress.
Hosteen Frey was torn between hatred and grief. He ordered his men to advance toward Seagard, and so they continued their journey.
After a few days, they finally reached the city. The Mallister banners flew above the walls, but there was another one beside them. The Arctican banner was flying alongside House Mallister's...
They approached the gates in anger. "What does this mean, Lord Mallister?!" Hosteen shouted at the soldiers atop the walls.
Jason Mallister himself appeared alongside his son, observing the Frey commander.
"So you're the one leading the Frey troops?" he asked.
"Answer me! What does this mean?!" Hosteen shouted again.
"Isn't it obvious? We bent the knee once more," Lord Mallister replied.
"You swore to serve us!" Hosteen roared.
"That is true. But don't worry, I know I'm a turncloak after this war. I will pay the price, and my son will become the new Lord Mallister. However, at this moment, I intend to save my house. We serve the Arcticans from now on, and neither you nor your force can change that." Jason pointed eastward. "You saw what happened to the Twins. You'll never stand a chance against them."
"You think we won't tear down your walls? You barely have any soldiers. The Arcticans abandoned you too!" Hosteen replied.
"You can try. We'll defend Seagard, just as we did against the Ironborn, while you were busy trying to take Riverrun and we had to deal with everything on our own." Jason looked at him with contempt.
Hosteen growled. "Fine. Then I'll have your head cut off today or tomorrow." His men began preparing for the siege.
At that moment, Hosteen needed to find someone to blame. Someone on whom he could vent all his rage after seeing the Twins destroyed.
Thus, they began their preparations. The first day of the siege started merely as a test.
There was nothing truly concerning. The Frey men advanced quickly against the walls using ladders, ropes, and hooks, while hundreds of archers provided covering fire.
The Mallisters immediately responded, attacking the Freys as soon as they came within range. In the end, a few dozen Mallister men fell. But the Freys lost three hundred soldiers and were forced to retreat to their tents.
Night fell, and at that moment, a raven arrived at the castle. The message was brought to Lord Mallister.
Upon reading it, a small smile appeared on his face. "Well... let's begin." He called for his son and alerted his men.
"Are they ready, father?" he asked.
Jason nodded. "Yes. The Freys have no idea their boat is about to sink." He said with satisfaction.
They soon began gathering all the men. Quickly, siege engines started leaving the castle and moving toward the city.
Machines that Jon himself had left with them. As they were positioned, the men began preparing special ammunition.
Balls of hay set ablaze...
Hosteen was filled with rage as he drank. He had always been a competent commander, but now he was not at his best.
He was still deeply affected by the loss of the Twins, which left him uncertain about the future of House Frey... and he needed to take that pain out on the Mallisters.
They had managed to resist the first attacks well, but he decided to leave the main assault for the following day. That night, he preferred to drink and mourn for a while.
What he did not expect was to hear screams coming from outside. He immediately left the tent with a jug in his hand.
He saw all the men pointing toward the sky. A massive ball of fire was coming directly from the city.
It fell in the middle of the camp before erupting into flames. Hosteen froze for a moment. That distance should have been impossible.
They should not have been able to launch an attack that far. They were hundreds of meters away... Then more balls of fire crossed the skies.
They fell into the middle of the camp, crushing men who screamed in pain as they were consumed by the flames. Small tents were destroyed as they caught fire.
Seeing this, Hosteen needed to act. "Get away! Get away from the camp!" he shouted immediately. "These damned fools are insane!" He had never imagined they possessed some kind of weapon prepared behind the walls.
Soon, even more balls of fire began raining down upon the tents.
"Save the supplies!" Hosteen remembered.
The men rushed to move the horses and wagons away from the flames.
Within minutes, the place had turned into an inferno. Fire was spreading everywhere.
The smoke created by the flames completely covered the area. During that night, many men could not even find their bearings.
All they could hear were the shouts of commanders trying to reorganize the troops.
Men and horses engulfed in flames ran desperately from side to side, unable to escape the fire.
"My lord! We've lost some supply wagons!" a soldier reported.
Hosteen could not believe it. Things had gone so wrong that they had completely ruined his entire plan to take Seagard the next day.
Most of the weapons, armor, and equipment remained in the camp. And the camp was burning.
"We'll gather and decide what to do at dawn. We should expect an attack as well, but I doubt it, Seagard shouldn't have the men for that..." he ordered.
His eyes followed the flames and all the smoke covering the region, created by the fire itself. Seagard could not even be seen through the curtain of smoke.
"How can they have weapons like this?" Hosteen cursed. Rage consumed his thoughts. Then, suddenly, he stopped.
"Hey... wait." He raised a finger.
He was somewhat drunk, but he still possessed the instincts of an experienced commander.
Something was wrong. Something his men were not noticing. As he watched, he heard a strange sound coming from somewhere.
It was faint. The flames made it difficult to hear because of the constant crackling of the fire.
Even so, he managed to identify it and immediately crouched down. He pressed his ear against the ground. Then his eyes widened as he felt the earth trembling.
"Everyone on guard! Take positions! Someone is coming to attack us!" the man shouted immediately.
He knew a force was advancing. It could not be Seagard's men. They did not possess such numbers.
But the sound of horses grew louder and louder, closer and closer, more and more intense.
Then they emerged through the smoke. As Hosteen Rivers tried to regroup his men, banners bearing the Arctican symbol appeared.
A heavily armored cavalry force was charging directly at them. Of the two thousand Freys who had arrived, only about seventeen hundred were still alive.
And most of them barely had shields, weapons, or armor. Much of their equipment had been left behind in the burning camp.
When approximately two thousand mounted Arcticans appeared at a full charge, they simply had no chance.
Not to mention they were not even grouped together. After fleeing the camp, they had scattered into several smaller groups.
Hosteen could only watch death arrive. He tried to run alongside his men, but they had absolutely no way to organize a defense against a cavalry charge of that magnitude.
Then he felt a sharp pain, a spear pierced through his body. One of the first riders struck him dead center.
Soon afterward, the Arcticans began crushing all the remaining men.
"It's them, Lord Mallister!" someone shouted from atop the gates. Jason Mallister watched everything from the walls of Seagard.
He could hear the screams coming from the other side of the smoke. That cavalry was exactly the reason the raven had been sent to him.
The entire Arctican army was already prepared to crush the Freys. They had merely waited for the right moment.
First, they launched the fireballs. That prevented anyone from seeing them approach, and everyone was unarmed at that moment. Ever since the Arcticans had landed in the region, they had advanced along the coast while carefully monitoring all of the Freys' movements.
They waited until they reached Seagard. Lord Mallister already knew that the Arcticans were camped near the city, looking for an opportunity to crush the Freys, since they wanted answers about what had happened to the Twins.
The attack on the gates was exactly what he needed to complete the trap. That was why he kept the equipment and siege machines left behind by the Arcticans hidden until nightfall.
As for the men of Seagard, they could barely see anything through the smoke. But the screams of death coming from the other side were enough.
They knew very well who was winning. Meanwhile, the Arcticans continued cutting through the Freys with spears and swords.
The survivors fled in every direction, unable to defend themselves.
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