Was it a wise decision to attack the man whose rise to fame was killing dozens of men in a large-scale battle?
No.
Was it wise to attack a seven-foot-tall giant known to be undefeated?
No.
Did they still do it?
Yes.
"Haaaa!"
The six men behind Wylis aimed their spears and drove them towards his back.
Wylis didn't waste a second and leapt forward, away from them, both his arms spread wide as he knocked straight into the two fish sellers. He knocked them out cold with two punches to the face before grabbing his sword and turning.
"I commend your confidence. Too bad, it's overconfidence." Wylis kicked the fish table so hard that all the fish sprinkled everywhere like raindrops. He used that moment of distraction to jump forward and swing his blade.
Clank!
The men tried to use their spears to block, but they were of too low a quality. Wylis cut through them and then slit their bellies or chests. He ducked low at the barrage of stabs and swung, slicing legs entirely, leaving nothing but gore and screams.
"No running."
As the last two tried to run, Wylis made them trip, face-first onto the ground. The next thing they knew, he was sliding his sword through their hearts, killing them instantly.
Then he looked for Brennard and found him trying to run away. Too bad, the man was too old and lacked speed. Still, Wylis grabbed a sizable fish from the ground, aimed, and threw it at the man's head. Brennard fell hard, knocking both his old knees on the dirt.
Having done all that, Wylis hadn't even broken a sweat. They were far too easy for him, but at the same time, he saw why they were dangerous for smallfolk. Any sizable group with a few swords and spears could scare a village or a small town.
Quickly, he tied ropes around the legs of the two fake fish sellers, dragged them towards the groaning Brennard, and tied his legs as well. After that, he dragged the three men through the entire town.
The shops and streets weren't as empty this time. Men, women, and children started to emerge from their homes to watch the scene. Wylis saw some of them sneer towards Brennard, and others appeared hopeful.
From the docks, he reached the place that seemed like the town square. It was a large, round opening, dirt covering everything, muddy and wet, with a single wooden stage at the center for executions and other matters. A well was near it. One glance around and he noticed various shops and storage houses. It was mostly carpenters there, one blacksmith whose forge he noticed, and some fish and other raw food sellers.
They were looking at him.
Better make it clear now.
"I am Wylis Kaiser, Lord of Ramsgate by the will of King Robert Baratheon!" Wylis raised his voice so all could hear. "I know of the wrongs Brennard has done to you, and he shall answer for them. But I will not see this place wasted. Tell your kin and neighbors, I will call for workers soon. Ten strong men I shall take as my men-at-arms, and I'll need smiths, carpenters, merchants, and builders. Ramsgate will be forgotten no longer!"
Done with that, he dragged the men all the way into the castle. Though he didn't shy away from looking around at the town to see what he was dealing with. As far as he could see, the town was divided into the port side and the northern side, divided by the main, wide, dirt road leading from the town's entrance to the castle.
Finally, he entered the castle, which looked more like a prison fortress. It was clearly not designed for a luxury residence like the Red Keep. It was too brutalistic, grey stone walls going high, towers, and inner courtyards. It suited him, though, considering the women he planned to hide in there.
"Lead me to the dungeon!" Wylis ordered one of the two remaining guards, who stood right where he had left them. They were shaking in his presence, barely able to mumble a word. But they followed his command anyway.
They led him downstairs through a well-hidden door. Using torches to light up the way, they soon reached the cold dungeon, which was surprisingly not damp. The walls were all stone, and not the type that was built, but rather carved.
Good for me.
Since the castle sat on a raised rocky plateau, it was naturally protected to a small degree. For starters, Wylis liked it. With a moat, the castle would become impenetrable.
In time, they reached the prisoner holding area. It was nothing special, just tiny rooms carved in stone with metal-reinforced doors. There was nobody in them, thankfully.
One by one, they threw the three men in individual cells.
After locking them up, he looked at the two guards who had followed him in. "What are your names?"
"I-I'm Kyle, M'lord," said the thin, brown eyed, dark-haired man, lanky, built like a stick.
"I'm Jonos, my Lord," the other one added, so nervous he didn't even look up, keeping his messy black haired head bowed low. He was on the shorter side, however.
"Are you from Ramsgate or outside?"
"Here, M'lord. From a nearby village."
Wylis quickly checked the Tyrant's Fief and made sure they were telling the truth. Then he glared at them for some time, wondering if he should keep them or send them away. They were new recruits as far as he knew.
"We'll discuss your employment another time. For now, fetch me a bucket of water and a cloth. Brennard and his lot will be spilling their truths before long." Wylis waved them off and stepped into Brennard's cell.
The cell was as basic as one could expect. It was comparable to the Red Keep's Black Cells, just less damp. It was dark with no way for sunlight to enter. Only the torch on the wall was a respite. Further, the cell was so small that a man couldn't lie flat. The stone walls were carved to make a small bench to sit on, but that was it.
Calmly, Wylis placed his massive sword against the wall and crossed his arms, staring at the old man's face. Brennard was awake and didn't dare meet his gaze, as if trying to hide his fear, panic, and guilt.
"Tell me, Brennard. Do you have a family?"
After a moment of silence, Brennard nodded. "I-I do, M'lord."
"Good, that makes it simple." Wylis stepped forward and gripped Brennard by the hair, forcing his face up. "This ends two ways. You say nothing, and I put you and your household to the sword for your crimes, or you tell me all, and only you will die. Your death is certain; the question is who goes with you."
Brennard's eyes shrank momentarily.
Wylis let go of his head and stepped back. "I've been riding across the realm, killing, fighting, taking what coin and bread I could. There's no denying that killing comes easily to me. I'm sure you know it. But to find my lands in such ruin before my return, that stings. I never thought the first task in my own land would be this.
"I do not blame a man who seeks the best of his chance. If the Boltons carried gold, I see why you clasped their hand. But you didn't stop at that, did you? The little power you had, you abused it to do what? Terrorize this little town? Rape their girls? Murder their children? I will count to ten. If you don't speak, I shall judge you and your house forfeit. The town will rejoice and celebrate your heads roll, and your sons' and daughters', or perhaps even grandchildren."
With that, Wylis leaned back against the wall and started counting in a low voice. He wasn't planning on killing Brennard's family if they were innocent. But the threat from a seven-foot-tall man mattered.
"Five…"
Brennard wasn't looking at Wylis at first. But when the counting reached below five, he looked up. Whatever went on in his head, it seemed he had made up his mind.
"I-I swear it, M'lord, no treason in it. Lord Bolton's men slipped coins so they could dock and fetch timber. Ramsgate's smallfolk were meant to do the labor. We gave 'em just enough bread and pennies. Bolton fattened his purse. I took a piece, but I never crossed Lord Manderly, M'lord."
Wylis scoffed. If that wasn't betraying the Manderlys, then what was? But he saw the game. Boltons didn't lack timber; there was no doubt. But by using Ramsgate, profits could be boosted. Since the castle only had a steward who wasn't beholden to the smallfolk or responsible, it made sense.
"But you lived as a lord when you weren't one. With the Bolton men at your back, you brought fear to these folk. You did horrible things to them. They once called Lord Manderly their master, but now they are mine. To wound them is to wound me, and that is treason, Brennard."
Just then, the two guards, Kyle and Jonos, arrived with a large bucket and a piece of cloth.
"Hold his arms and throw him down. Lay his head flat on the ground." Wylis ordered them, and they obeyed. "Brennard, tell me where the money is kept. I know you won't speak freely, so take this as a warning. Hold him tight, press his head down by his forehead."
Wylis then put the piece of cloth over Brennard's face. It was large enough to do the job. Then, he grabbed the bucket and started to pour water evenly, continuously.
"Ghhh… Ngh!"
At first, Brennard didn't do much. But once the effects of the waterboarding started, he started thrashing his legs. But the cell was too small for him to do anything. Jonos and Kyle had him pinned. Wylis added his foot on Brennard's forehead to hold him.
What Brennard felt was like drowning. Wylis made sure to take short breaks in between so he wouldn't die so fast. It lasted a total of half an hour before Wylis finally lifted the cloth.
"P-Please! No more!"
"It rests on your word. Where is the secret hoard? Where is the gold? Do well by me, Brennard, else my displeasure will drag this on for another hour and more."
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