The Ironborn and their longships came in with the evening tide, hidden in the afterglow of the setting sun, and the graybeards in the watchtowers failed to spot them in time.
Besides, from the day they had set out from Old Wyk, the wind had always favored them.
Victarion wore his Kraken helm and heavy plate armor.
At sea, that weight seemed burdensome, but Victarion believed the Drowned God protected him. He was not afraid of drowning.
Victarion cared deeply about his plate. Better defense meant better killing.
Victarion's only weakness lay in the vulnerable gaps at his joints, where only leather and mail protected him, but he never gave anyone the chance to exploit them.
"Come on, cowards!" the Kraken shouted from the deck. He hacked left and right, slaughtering wildly across the battlefield.
The Drowned God had made Victarion Greyjoy to wear iron armor and hold a bloodstained long axe, each swing bringing death.
"I do not have Crow's Eye's honeyed words, and I do not hide in shadows like assassins and sorcerers. I am only a warrior," Victarion thought.
With every chop, Victarion sought to take a life.
The steel axe split a rose spearman's helmet, hair, and skull, sending a jolt of numbness through his hand.
The rose spearman collapsed to the deck as if drunk.
The Kraken roared furiously, then pulled his axe free.
Another enemy charged at him, swinging a longsword. Victarion smashed him with his shield, then snatched the sword from his hand.
"Die."
Victarion threw the longsword into the water, then threw the man after it.
By then, the Ironborn had leapt onto the enemy ship after him. One-Ear, Nute the Barber.
Throwing axes spun, battle swords clashed, and a dance of steel and blood rang out across the ship.
In boarding actions, the Ironborn were exceptionally fierce. Moreover, the Shield Islands had been quiet for too long, and sailors were not reavers after all.
Some rose sailors fled below deck, some shouted for mercy, and others still resisted stubbornly and kept fighting.
The scales of victory tilted toward the Ironborn. Victarion killed the most men.
Victory tasted so sweet. Beneath the Ironborn's feet, the deck grew wet, and piles of dead and dying men lay to either side.
Victarion was covered in blood, brain matter, and perhaps the tears of those who had begged for mercy.
The sea was crowded with ships. Some were burning, some were sinking, and some had been smashed to pieces. The rose ships were retreating step by step.
The water between the hulls was like a pot of stew, dotted with countless bodies, broken oars, and men clinging to wreckage.
In the distance, dozens of southern longships were fleeing swiftly into the Mander. Those ships still flew rose banners, golden roses on green.
"Those who flee are cowards," Victarion thought. Let those cowards run to Highgarden and spread the tale of the Ironborn's rampage.
The Kraken's helm was taken off, and sweat streamed down Victarion's face, stinging his eyes.
"See whether there are any lords or heirs. The living can be ransomed from Highgarden."
"After you strip the prisoners of their weapons and armor, bind their wounds."
"Throw the dying into the sea. If anyone begs for mercy, cut his throat first."
"Remember to count the captured ships, and the captured knights and nobles. I want their banners."
Victarion arranged the aftermath of the raid in perfect order. They had paid the Iron Price.
"A great victory," Nute the Barber said. "Good."
"Praise King Crow's Eye!" some reavers shouted as they stripped jewels and valuables from the dead.
"Great, but not entirely mine," Victarion thought bitterly. People would give the honor to the Iron King. They would praise Crow's Eye's courage and strategy.
"He has stolen my victory again," Victarion thought with hatred.
Crow's Eye had stolen his woman, stolen his victory, stolen his throne.
"What is Crow's Eye's next step?" Victarion wondered, but he had no answer. He would have to find Crow's Eye first.
Crow's Eye looked upon the bloody battlefield. He had prepared a thousand meals for the Drowned God, and the god would feast well.
"Next comes the bait. Little King of the Iron Throne, come and fight me. Let us see who the true Storm is."
...
At Highgarden, the golden rose on green banners stood bright and clear, like a forest.
The survivors of the Shield Islands brought black news, news of blood.
Lord Hewett and Lord Chester had been killed, Lord Serry had fled, and Lord Grimm was locked inside his own castle.
It seemed Crow's Eye would raise several new kings to carry out the Old Way.
"This."
Willas Tyrell looked at the wailing Lord Osbert Serry and his heir before him.
"His Grace Gendry warned you again and again. How could you still attack so rashly?" Willas Tyrell, dressed in green velvet, drew in a sharp breath. "You were nearly wiped out?"
"My lord, there was no way for us to prepare. The wind changed suddenly, and the Ironborn attacked at sunset. The Redwyne fleet and the Oldtown fleet had originally said they would help us defend the coastline, but the distance was too great, and everyone slowly grew careless." Lord Osbert Serry said, "As soon as we saw the Ironborn longships, everyone panicked."
Willas said nothing. Long peace bred carelessness.
The Storm King's commands were as weighty as mountains, but these lesser lords had neither the ability nor the courage to face the Kraken alone. They had simply acted on their own.
"And there were too many Ironborn longships. It looked like a thousand of them. The Ironborn came out in full force," Ser Talbert Serry said. His sigil was a white rose on red, surrounded by a ring of white shield-shaped battlements.
Garlan Tyrell looked at the wailing lord and could no longer keep blaming them.
"It seems they did not sail along the coast, but kept far from the mainland, deep in the Sunset Sea, before finally striking straight from the west," Willas said. "Otherwise, the timing would not have been so perfect, and they would not have gone unseen."
"Calling wind and rain."
Willas and Garlan exchanged a glance and were forced to accept the guess more firmly.
"My lord, when will the King's troops arrive? The King has dragons, doesn't he? Golden banners, golden warhammers, to wash away our humiliation. Crows are feeding on the corpses of men and livestock." Lord Serry asked with a trace of hope.
"The King is mustering troops in the Crownlands, preparing for a decisive sea battle with Crow's Eye," Willas said, comforting him.
"That is good. The Kraken must be killed. The Storm is the strongest warrior." The lord and his son were still shaken.
"Very well. I understand." Willas waved a hand, signaling the servants to take the frightened lord and his son down to rest.
Because of Gendry's warning, some lords of the Shield Islands had sent their families to Highgarden, but others had refused to believe in danger. Now their entire households had been destroyed.
"Crow's Eye has made The Reach his prey," Willas said.
"The Shield Islands have fallen," Garlan said. "Beacon fires will be lit throughout the heart of The Reach."
The Shield Islands were of extraordinary importance. The Mander flowed gently, its surface broad, full of treacherous reefs and sandbars.
Most seagoing ships dared not sail past Highgarden, but longships had shallow drafts and could sail upstream all the way to Bitterbridge.
In ancient times, the Ironborn had dared to sail into the river, raiding along the Mander and its tributaries.
Only when the king of the Green lands armed the fishermen on the four small islands at the mouth of the Mander and appointed them as his shields did that change.
Two thousand years had passed, and along the jagged coasts of those islands, graybeards in watchtowers still kept the ancient tradition and remained on guard.
And now, the Shield Islands had fallen because of Crow's Eye, who could call great winds.
"I do not think the King will necessarily fight Crow's Eye in a decisive battle at sea," Garlan said. "It seems Crow's Eye truly understands some ancient, uncanny 'wind.' The sea is extremely dangerous."
"The Ironborn are flexible and unpredictable," Willas said, looking at his younger brother. "But the King will choose a battlefield he is good at. The Storm's battles also seek advantage."
"The King should have confidence. He has the red priestess who was once Great Lord Stannis's adviser at his side, and she is said to know some magic as well."
"Crow's Eye is luring the King, and the King seems ready to turn the trap against him."
"On the battlefield, it will depend on who is more skilled."
"What about the King's dragons?" Willas asked.
"They are not large yet, but they grow very quickly. His Grace Gendry took the dragons to Dragonstone for the duel."
"For now, our plan is to stabilize the situation and wait for the King's support," Willas said, rubbing his brow.
"Besides the Redwyne fleet, we still have the Hightower fleet of Oldtown," Garlan said. "They are both fine fleets."
"We originally had three fleets, and everyone wanted command. That is the same as having no commander at all," Willas said. It was truly a headache.
Redwyne was a good choice, but the Hightower fleet always seemed slow and reluctant. They could not force command over them either.
"What exactly are Lord Leyton's men doing?" Garlan asked.
"I have already sent a letter asking them to help patrol the coast, but the Hightower men are only willing to guard Oldtown. Asking them to form a fleet and go north to the Shield Islands has been loose and half-hearted," Willas said helplessly.
"Aside from Redwyne, we still cannot really command Hightower," Garlan admitted, acknowledging this farce.
The Tyrells had indeed united the great lords of The Reach through righteousness and marriage ties, but before a crisis, the lords still had their own thoughts.
Powerful lords like House Hightower, though they were their mother's family, had always kept themselves apart.
"I have a plan." Willas thought for a moment, wisdom shining in his eyes as he addressed the crisis brought by the fall of the Shield Islands.
"First, write to the King on the Iron Throne and the ministers, requesting support. If Crow's Eye truly has magical power, even a fleet cannot claim to be a perfect solution."
"Garlan, you will choose elite men and prepare to retake the Shield Islands and defend Highgarden."
"I will urgently notify Lord Leyton Hightower again and have him prepare Oldtown's defense. As for Lord Redwyne, he must defend Arbor. Even if Hightower still refuses to come out, Oldtown is something they must defend."
"Then let's do it, Willas." Garlan clenched his fist.
"Roses have thorns too. Roses can also make Kraken bleed."
"But we are not the main characters of this war. I think victory will still have to wait for the King's support. King Gendry remains undefeated."