Chapter 83: ' The Courage Of The Few '
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Chapter 83: ' The Courage Of The Few '
Hello everyone, here is a new chapter.
I would like to thank to:
[moku8]!
[Patrick Rodriguez]!!
[Sdri]!!
I don't know who you are guys, but thank you very much for your support on Ko-fi!!!
Thanks again.
For the remaining 14 days of freedom I have left, I'll attach below the link to my Buy me at Ko-fi page. /duncanrandargotpaladin
Thank you all for your comments and advice!
Of course, none of you are under any obligation to donate.
But if you feel the visceral urge to do so... Well, do it. AHAH!
P.S.
If you can leave a review for my Fanfiction, I'd appreciate it. Thanks in advance!
-9 days!!! ( Job is Coming))
Happy reading!
-------------------------------------
POV: Captain Ser Amon Fury;
On the Third Black Swan less than 200 feet from the Greyjoy lookout ship.
About five minutes after a light signal from the First Black Swan was cast...
It was the moment of truth.
The limit distance had just been reached. From that point, they could have successfully hit the target.
Time slowed down for Captain Amon...
The man relived all the most important moments of his life.
House Fury was just a small House of Nobility of recent origin. They owed their allegiance to Stannis Baratheon. Amon himself was invested with the title of Knight when he saved more than forty souls from the storm at Dragonstone that had nearly sunk the entire royal fleet five years earlier.
He would not have wanted to take part in this mission. He had a wife and two children waiting for him in a small manor.
Amon had lived more than thirty years of hardship. What he had was more than enough. He did not know why he had accepted...
He didn't have to. Only volunteers could take part in this almost suicidal mission.
At the time, when Amon tied a rope around his chest and jumped into the sea to save those castaways, he did it out of instinct and not because he saw an opportunity...
His hands and legs had moved on their own despite a voice in his head screaming at him not to.
It was the same for his tongue when Ser Davos came to him to ask if he wanted to be part of that group...
He wanted to answer [Forget it Ser Davos! This is a suicide plan! I'd have a better chance of surviving the assault landing on the front line!] ...Instead, the answer he gave was:
[I will go with you, Ser Davos...]
"Captain! We've cut the anchor lines and the sails are set!"
"Wex, Edd help me with these ropes! We'll have to tie them to the rudder soon.
You two! Start lowering the lifeboat!" Ser Amon ordered.
"Yes, Captain!" The four members of the crew alone replied.
The direction had been set.
The rudder had been tied, and the ship would arrive at its destination.
The final touch was missing...
The captain tinder lit a torch hanging in a safe position. This single source of light was the only reference point their archer would have to hit the target in the pitch black.
As soon as the torch was lit and the lifeboat touched the water, the Captain commanded:
"Abandon ship!"
About three minutes later...
"Captain, the signal!" Said Wex pointing to a bolt of fire in the sky.
"NOW WEX! You three paddle with me as hard and fast as you can! We have to cover the fastest half-mile of your lives! REMATE!!!" Amon.
"YES, SIR!!!" The three men answered in unison, oar in hand.
Wex, the best archer of the group lit a small brazier on the boat and dyed his arrowhead in the flames.
The ship was about eighty feet away. Not too difficult a target.
Wex drew his bow, aimed at the still visible target, and fired the bolt of fire...
A few seconds later, more flaming arrows appeared in the sky...
Fifty arrows to be exact.
It was a masterly deed... as no more flaming arrows were fired. All the archers in the lifeboats had hit their targets...
A spectacle of dancing red and orange lights radiated for nearly a mile radius.
Fifty ships caught fire, all pointing in one direction...
The mouth of Pyke Harbor.
Wex stood still and admired the spectacle with satisfaction.
The moment of glory and spectacle lasted until the archer heard a voice...
"EXCELLENT SHOT WEX! Well done...
Now put out that damn brazier and grab an oar if you don't want to kill us all!!!" He praised and scolded Amon at the same time.
"Y-YES!!! I beg your pardon, Captain Fury!... But..." Wex noticed something.
"BUT?! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING WEX?! The Greyjoy ships are going to swoop down on us if you don't turn that light off now!" Amon.
"... Captain! I see a signal from Ser Davos.
They need help.
We're the closest...
What do we do Captain?" Wex asked. The other crew members stopped their actions to all stare at their captain.
Amon bit his tongue. He didn't want to say those words.
Not this time...
'NO! Not this time! Don't do it, Amon! Don't do it!
Think of Cassy!
To Jory!
Little Lola!
NO! DON'T DO IT!
That will be the decoy ship! It will be suicide! DON'T DO IT! DO NOT SAY THOSE WORDS!' shouted a voice inside Ser Amon Fury's head...
Never would he have boarded the ship that was to be the decoy for the Greyjoy fleet! That would have been a certainty of death.
"FUCK!!! Fuck me and fuck whatever is wrong with my rotten head!!!..." Said the captain cursing himself.
Finally, Amon sighed in a surrendered manner...
The four crew members had been waiting for an answer for almost twenty seconds...
About two minutes later...
Balon was staring wide-eyed at the scene less than two miles from his fortress.
The Castle promontory was the highest point on the Isle of Pyke.
The bridge was about three hundred feet above sea level.
The horizon could be seen well over thirty miles away.
The first bridge of the four towers of the Greyjoy fortress faced right towards the harbor.
The screams at the harbor could be heard from there. A wall of flame, at least ten feet high, stretched the length of the harbor entrance.
Dozens of burning wrecks blocked the only way in and out of Pyke harbor. A port that currently housed half of King Balon's offensive Fleet.
A surge of anger and despair made the man lose his mind...
"NOO!!! HOW COULD THIS HAPPEN?!! WHO DID IT?
I WANT THE ENEMY RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS DISASTER TO BE CAPTURED ALIVE!!!!
I SHALL PERSONALLY DROWN AND BAPTIZE THOSE UNBELIEVERS!!!...
MARON!!!" He finally called to Balon.
"Yes, father," Maron answered instantly.
Balon managed with an enormous effort to regain some of his lucidity.
"Have the Iron Victory send a message...
By order of the king, that enemy ship must be captured at all costs.
... Tell your uncle Victarion that failure will not be allowed."
End POV.
---------------
POV: Bloody Snow.
On the Lighthouse of Hope, about two miles away from the Greyjoy Fleet.
About two minutes after a light message was transmitted to a flagship outside the harbor...
The ship on which fifty-one heroic individuals were resting their feet was in full motion towards a dark but well-charted course.
Duncan had just heard a sailor shout. The speed that the ship had just reached was nine knots.
A truly remarkable achievement. Enough speed to outrun most enemy ships.
A dozen ships had already left in pursuit of theirs.
Bloody Snow hoped that number was at least thirty.
But even twelve was better than nothing. At this rate, those twelve enemy longships would be headed for a fleet of over four hundred ships ready to greet them.
All the sailors in the lifeboats, even the cowards who had abandoned Ser Davos, were already safe in the ten support caravels provided by House Tallhart. The Iron Fleet would not have been able to reach those ships. In a fair wind, a caravel could even reach a speed of eleven knots. An unattainable speed for the Ironborn Longships.
By now, the distress beacon must have reached the Royal Fleet stationed just over thirty miles away.
A chain of dozens of fishing boats had been placed along a line to send out a signal light as quickly as possible.
Now the Lighthouse of Hope, the former Greyjoy ship, was traveling at full speed towards the Allied Fleet. In less than two hours they should have been able to reach their third and final goal of the plan.
Entitled [Saving the Brave Heroes from the Drowned God].
If they had managed to evade the enemy ships for more than an hour and a half, they would have had a chance.
Five hundred versus fifty, that was a tough challenge even for the heir to The Watcher...
We've had a tough time of it this time...
Luckily there are still a few Heroes in this rotten world.
My father, but especially my mother, must never know how much we risked.
If Ser Amon Fury and his four men had not answered our call, we would most likely have made it halfway before we were caught.
Every good sailor had more than ten good soldiers in this particular situation.
I swear, if we make it out of this in one piece, I'll make sure those five Heroes of Westeros come out of it showered with gold and honors...
I will make sure that history will never forget their deeds.' He promised himself, a boy who never forgot anything.
By now his body and that of his twenty-four comrades-in-arms were dry. They were no longer in danger of hypothermia.
The boy thought it was time to put on his new armor. Only after the cold had passed did he notice that his sword, Red Rain, was missing from the unaccustomed pile of weapons and armor.
As soon as he finished putting on his armor, which consisted of the first layer of fine chain mail, a layer of boiled fine leather, lined in silk and linen, steel leggings and armbands, triple-scaled shoulder straps of basilisk skin, and the usually studded leather gloves standard issue for all Winter's Watch, he reached Ser Davos.
"Ser Davos, can I trouble you or should I come back later?" The boy asked the man who continued to grip the helm.
"You must disturb me, Lord Duncan... I need a distraction to keep me from shitting myself.
I've managed to maintain a decent image so far after all." Ser Davos replied as he continued to shift his gaze between the compass, the horizon, and the sail.
Every inch of canvas was tightly stretched and bulging in one direction.
It was proof that a good captain was always holding a course with the wind in his favor.
"Ahaha! Glad to be of help, Ser... I'd like to ask you a question.
But I'm beginning to think I shouldn't ask...
It would be a blow to me to receive an answer like:
[Because of that regrettable incident called 'Mutiny', where I thought we were all doomed, I haven't had time to think about your steel sword of Valyria. It's probably lying 50 to 60 feet deep near Pyke harbor by now]." The boy was half ironic and half-seriously concerned.
"Ah, right your sword!" The Northern hero nearly collapsed upon hearing the first part of the reply... but then Ser Davos continued, saying:
"I have it right by my side, my Lord. Fear not." Davos uncovered part of his velvet cloak showing a very, very familiar handle and scabbard.
"Phew... Thank you, Ser Davos. I..." Bloody Snow was interrupted by a shout from the boatswain's mate on the main ship.
"CAPTAIN!!! SHIP APPROACHING!" The boatswain.
Davos turned sharply behind him, but with that darkness, he couldn't make out the ship among those dozens of lights in the distance.
"WHAT SHIP, NYMOS? DESCRIBE IT" Davos shouted to get an idea of the possible threat.
"A DOUBLE-SAILED DROMON! A FLAGSHIP, CAPTAIN DAVOS. IT'S CATCHING UP. ABOUT 9-10 KNOTS OF SPEED! BANNER GREYJOY ON BOTH SAILS!" Nymos.
"Do you recognize her?" Bloody Snow asked with concern.
"...THE FIGUREHEAD, NYMOS! CAN YOU SEE THE FIGUREHEAD?" Davos.
"NO FIGUREHEAD! IT LOOKS LIKE... AN IRON BRIDGE FOR ATTACK DOCKING!!!" Nymos.
"...it's the Iron Victory. The fastest ship in the Iron Fleet.
Victarion Greyjoy will be joining us." Davos announced that gloomy information while keeping his cool.
The experienced sailor, a veteran of dozens of life-and-death experiences, looked for a solution before panicking.
"How long before he reaches us?" Bloody Snow.
"... An hour if we're lucky. The Royal Fleet won't arrive for another hour and a half." Davos.
"Can we gain a few more minutes? If it's just Iron Victory we have to hold off before reinforcements arrive, we can do it." Affirmed the boy confidently.
"Just the Iron Victory? That is the largest ship in the entire Iron Fleet. Victarion Greyjoy has at least a hundred men in his crew." Davos.
"A hundred men and a great warrior is a challenge we can still hold our own against... So is there any way we can get just that one ship to board us without the other twelve backing him up?" Bloody Snow.
Davos thought about that for a moment...
"There is... but it's a gamble. If Stannis is only a few minutes late we'd all be fish food." Davos.
"Do it, Captain Davos.
Let us warriors do what we do best." Said the boy, grabbing the hilt of the sword still attached to Davos' belt.
Please report us if you find any errors so we can fix it asap!
Chapter 83: ' The Courage Of The Few '
Hello everyone, here is a new chapter.
I would like to thank to:
[moku8]!
[Patrick Rodriguez]!!
[Sdri]!!
I don't know who you are guys, but thank you very much for your support on Ko-fi!!!
Thanks again.
For the remaining 14 days of freedom I have left, I'll attach below the link to my Buy me at Ko-fi page. /duncanrandargotpaladin
Thank you all for your comments and advice!
Of course, none of you are under any obligation to donate.
But if you feel the visceral urge to do so... Well, do it. AHAH!
P.S.
If you can leave a review for my Fanfiction, I'd appreciate it. Thanks in advance!
-9 days!!! ( Job is Coming))
Happy reading!
-------------------------------------
POV: Captain Ser Amon Fury;
On the Third Black Swan less than 200 feet from the Greyjoy lookout ship.
About five minutes after a light signal from the First Black Swan was cast...
It was the moment of truth.
The limit distance had just been reached. From that point, they could have successfully hit the target.
Time slowed down for Captain Amon...
The man relived all the most important moments of his life.
House Fury was just a small House of Nobility of recent origin. They owed their allegiance to Stannis Baratheon. Amon himself was invested with the title of Knight when he saved more than forty souls from the storm at Dragonstone that had nearly sunk the entire royal fleet five years earlier.
He would not have wanted to take part in this mission. He had a wife and two children waiting for him in a small manor.
Amon had lived more than thirty years of hardship. What he had was more than enough. He did not know why he had accepted...
He didn't have to. Only volunteers could take part in this almost suicidal mission.
At the time, when Amon tied a rope around his chest and jumped into the sea to save those castaways, he did it out of instinct and not because he saw an opportunity...
His hands and legs had moved on their own despite a voice in his head screaming at him not to.
It was the same for his tongue when Ser Davos came to him to ask if he wanted to be part of that group...
He wanted to answer [Forget it Ser Davos! This is a suicide plan! I'd have a better chance of surviving the assault landing on the front line!] ...Instead, the answer he gave was:
[I will go with you, Ser Davos...]
"Captain! We've cut the anchor lines and the sails are set!"
"Wex, Edd help me with these ropes! We'll have to tie them to the rudder soon.
You two! Start lowering the lifeboat!" Ser Amon ordered.
"Yes, Captain!" The four members of the crew alone replied.
The direction had been set.
The rudder had been tied, and the ship would arrive at its destination.
The final touch was missing...
The captain tinder lit a torch hanging in a safe position. This single source of light was the only reference point their archer would have to hit the target in the pitch black.
As soon as the torch was lit and the lifeboat touched the water, the Captain commanded:
"Abandon ship!"
About three minutes later...
"Captain, the signal!" Said Wex pointing to a bolt of fire in the sky.
"NOW WEX! You three paddle with me as hard and fast as you can! We have to cover the fastest half-mile of your lives! REMATE!!!" Amon.
"YES, SIR!!!" The three men answered in unison, oar in hand.
Wex, the best archer of the group lit a small brazier on the boat and dyed his arrowhead in the flames.
The ship was about eighty feet away. Not too difficult a target.
Wex drew his bow, aimed at the still visible target, and fired the bolt of fire...
A few seconds later, more flaming arrows appeared in the sky...
Fifty arrows to be exact.
It was a masterly deed... as no more flaming arrows were fired. All the archers in the lifeboats had hit their targets...
A spectacle of dancing red and orange lights radiated for nearly a mile radius.
Fifty ships caught fire, all pointing in one direction...
The mouth of Pyke Harbor.
Wex stood still and admired the spectacle with satisfaction.
The moment of glory and spectacle lasted until the archer heard a voice...
"EXCELLENT SHOT WEX! Well done...
Now put out that damn brazier and grab an oar if you don't want to kill us all!!!" He praised and scolded Amon at the same time.
"Y-YES!!! I beg your pardon, Captain Fury!... But..." Wex noticed something.
"BUT?! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING WEX?! The Greyjoy ships are going to swoop down on us if you don't turn that light off now!" Amon.
"... Captain! I see a signal from Ser Davos.
They need help.
We're the closest...
What do we do Captain?" Wex asked. The other crew members stopped their actions to all stare at their captain.
Amon bit his tongue. He didn't want to say those words.
Not this time...
'NO! Not this time! Don't do it, Amon! Don't do it!
Think of Cassy!
To Jory!
Little Lola!
NO! DON'T DO IT!
That will be the decoy ship! It will be suicide! DON'T DO IT! DO NOT SAY THOSE WORDS!' shouted a voice inside Ser Amon Fury's head...
Never would he have boarded the ship that was to be the decoy for the Greyjoy fleet! That would have been a certainty of death.
"FUCK!!! Fuck me and fuck whatever is wrong with my rotten head!!!..." Said the captain cursing himself.
Finally, Amon sighed in a surrendered manner...
The four crew members had been waiting for an answer for almost twenty seconds...
About two minutes later...
Balon was staring wide-eyed at the scene less than two miles from his fortress.
The Castle promontory was the highest point on the Isle of Pyke.
The bridge was about three hundred feet above sea level.
The horizon could be seen well over thirty miles away.
The first bridge of the four towers of the Greyjoy fortress faced right towards the harbor.
The screams at the harbor could be heard from there. A wall of flame, at least ten feet high, stretched the length of the harbor entrance.
Dozens of burning wrecks blocked the only way in and out of Pyke harbor. A port that currently housed half of King Balon's offensive Fleet.
A surge of anger and despair made the man lose his mind...
"NOO!!! HOW COULD THIS HAPPEN?!! WHO DID IT?
I WANT THE ENEMY RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS DISASTER TO BE CAPTURED ALIVE!!!!
I SHALL PERSONALLY DROWN AND BAPTIZE THOSE UNBELIEVERS!!!...
MARON!!!" He finally called to Balon.
"Yes, father," Maron answered instantly.
Balon managed with an enormous effort to regain some of his lucidity.
"Have the Iron Victory send a message...
By order of the king, that enemy ship must be captured at all costs.
... Tell your uncle Victarion that failure will not be allowed."
End POV.
---------------
POV: Bloody Snow.
On the Lighthouse of Hope, about two miles away from the Greyjoy Fleet.
About two minutes after a light message was transmitted to a flagship outside the harbor...
The ship on which fifty-one heroic individuals were resting their feet was in full motion towards a dark but well-charted course.
Duncan had just heard a sailor shout. The speed that the ship had just reached was nine knots.
A truly remarkable achievement. Enough speed to outrun most enemy ships.
A dozen ships had already left in pursuit of theirs.
Bloody Snow hoped that number was at least thirty.
But even twelve was better than nothing. At this rate, those twelve enemy longships would be headed for a fleet of over four hundred ships ready to greet them.
All the sailors in the lifeboats, even the cowards who had abandoned Ser Davos, were already safe in the ten support caravels provided by House Tallhart. The Iron Fleet would not have been able to reach those ships. In a fair wind, a caravel could even reach a speed of eleven knots. An unattainable speed for the Ironborn Longships.
By now, the distress beacon must have reached the Royal Fleet stationed just over thirty miles away.
A chain of dozens of fishing boats had been placed along a line to send out a signal light as quickly as possible.
Now the Lighthouse of Hope, the former Greyjoy ship, was traveling at full speed towards the Allied Fleet. In less than two hours they should have been able to reach their third and final goal of the plan.
Entitled [Saving the Brave Heroes from the Drowned God].
If they had managed to evade the enemy ships for more than an hour and a half, they would have had a chance.
Five hundred versus fifty, that was a tough challenge even for the heir to The Watcher...
We've had a tough time of it this time...
Luckily there are still a few Heroes in this rotten world.
My father, but especially my mother, must never know how much we risked.
If Ser Amon Fury and his four men had not answered our call, we would most likely have made it halfway before we were caught.
Every good sailor had more than ten good soldiers in this particular situation.
I swear, if we make it out of this in one piece, I'll make sure those five Heroes of Westeros come out of it showered with gold and honors...
I will make sure that history will never forget their deeds.' He promised himself, a boy who never forgot anything.
By now his body and that of his twenty-four comrades-in-arms were dry. They were no longer in danger of hypothermia.
The boy thought it was time to put on his new armor. Only after the cold had passed did he notice that his sword, Red Rain, was missing from the unaccustomed pile of weapons and armor.
As soon as he finished putting on his armor, which consisted of the first layer of fine chain mail, a layer of boiled fine leather, lined in silk and linen, steel leggings and armbands, triple-scaled shoulder straps of basilisk skin, and the usually studded leather gloves standard issue for all Winter's Watch, he reached Ser Davos.
"Ser Davos, can I trouble you or should I come back later?" The boy asked the man who continued to grip the helm.
"You must disturb me, Lord Duncan... I need a distraction to keep me from shitting myself.
I've managed to maintain a decent image so far after all." Ser Davos replied as he continued to shift his gaze between the compass, the horizon, and the sail.
Every inch of canvas was tightly stretched and bulging in one direction.
It was proof that a good captain was always holding a course with the wind in his favor.
"Ahaha! Glad to be of help, Ser... I'd like to ask you a question.
But I'm beginning to think I shouldn't ask...
It would be a blow to me to receive an answer like:
[Because of that regrettable incident called 'Mutiny', where I thought we were all doomed, I haven't had time to think about your steel sword of Valyria. It's probably lying 50 to 60 feet deep near Pyke harbor by now]." The boy was half ironic and half-seriously concerned.
"Ah, right your sword!" The Northern hero nearly collapsed upon hearing the first part of the reply... but then Ser Davos continued, saying:
"I have it right by my side, my Lord. Fear not." Davos uncovered part of his velvet cloak showing a very, very familiar handle and scabbard.
"Phew... Thank you, Ser Davos. I..." Bloody Snow was interrupted by a shout from the boatswain's mate on the main ship.
"CAPTAIN!!! SHIP APPROACHING!" The boatswain.
Davos turned sharply behind him, but with that darkness, he couldn't make out the ship among those dozens of lights in the distance.
"WHAT SHIP, NYMOS? DESCRIBE IT" Davos shouted to get an idea of the possible threat.
"A DOUBLE-SAILED DROMON! A FLAGSHIP, CAPTAIN DAVOS. IT'S CATCHING UP. ABOUT 9-10 KNOTS OF SPEED! BANNER GREYJOY ON BOTH SAILS!" Nymos.
"Do you recognize her?" Bloody Snow asked with concern.
"...THE FIGUREHEAD, NYMOS! CAN YOU SEE THE FIGUREHEAD?" Davos.
"NO FIGUREHEAD! IT LOOKS LIKE... AN IRON BRIDGE FOR ATTACK DOCKING!!!" Nymos.
"...it's the Iron Victory. The fastest ship in the Iron Fleet.
Victarion Greyjoy will be joining us." Davos announced that gloomy information while keeping his cool.
The experienced sailor, a veteran of dozens of life-and-death experiences, looked for a solution before panicking.
"How long before he reaches us?" Bloody Snow.
"... An hour if we're lucky. The Royal Fleet won't arrive for another hour and a half." Davos.
"Can we gain a few more minutes? If it's just Iron Victory we have to hold off before reinforcements arrive, we can do it." Affirmed the boy confidently.
"Just the Iron Victory? That is the largest ship in the entire Iron Fleet. Victarion Greyjoy has at least a hundred men in his crew." Davos.
"A hundred men and a great warrior is a challenge we can still hold our own against... So is there any way we can get just that one ship to board us without the other twelve backing him up?" Bloody Snow.
Davos thought about that for a moment...
"There is... but it's a gamble. If Stannis is only a few minutes late we'd all be fish food." Davos.
"Do it, Captain Davos.
Let us warriors do what we do best." Said the boy, grabbing the hilt of the sword still attached to Davos' belt.
Chapter 83: ' The Courage Of The Few 'Hello everyone, here is a new chapter. I would like to thank to: moku8! Patrick Rodriguez!! Sdri!! I don't know who you are guys, but thank you very much for your support on Ko-fi!!! Thanks again. For the remaining 14 days of freedom I have left, I'll attach below the link to my Buy me at Ko-fi page. /duncanrandargotpaladin Thank you all for your comments and advice! Of course, none of you are under any obligation to donate. But if you feel the visceral urge to do so... Well, do it. AHAH! P.S. If you can leave a review for my Fanfiction, I'd appreciate it. Thanks in advance! -9 days!!! Job is Coming Happy reading! ------------------------------------- POV: Captain Ser Amon Fury; On the Third Black Swan less than 200 feet from the Greyjoy lookout ship. About five minutes after a light signal from the First Black Swan was cast... It was the moment of truth. The limit distance had just been reached. From that point, they could have successfully hit the target. Time slowed down for Captain Amon... The man relived all the most important moments of his life. House Fury was just a small House of Nobility of recent origin. They owed their allegiance to Stannis Baratheon. Amon himself was invested with the title of Knight when he saved more than forty souls from the storm at Dragonstone that had nearly sunk the entire royal fleet five years earlier. He would not have wanted to take part in this mission. He had a wife and two children waiting for him in a small manor. Amon had lived more than thirty years of hardship. What he had was more than enough. He did not know why he had accepted... He didn't have to. Only volunteers could take part in this almost suicidal mission. At the time, when Amon tied a rope around his chest and jumped into the sea to save those castaways, he did it out of instinct and not because he saw an opportunity... His hands and legs had moved on their own despite a voice in his head screaming at him not to. It was the same for his tongue when Ser Davos came to him to ask if he wanted to be part of that group... He wanted to answer Forget it Ser Davos! This is a suicide plan! I'd have a better chance of surviving the assault landing on the front line! ...Instead, the answer he gave was: I will go with you, Ser Davos... "Captain! We've cut the anchor lines and the sails are set!" "Wex, Edd help me with these ropes! We'll have to tie them to the rudder soon. You two! Start lowering the lifeboat!" Ser Amon ordered. "Yes, Captain!" The four members of the crew alone replied. The direction had been set. The rudder had been tied, and the ship would arrive at its destination. The final touch was missing... The captain tinder lit a torch hanging in a safe position. This single source of light was the only reference point their archer would have to hit the target in the pitch black. As soon as the torch was lit and the lifeboat touched the water, the Captain commanded: "Abandon ship!" About three minutes later... "Captain, the signal!" Said Wex pointing to a bolt of fire in the sky. "NOW WEX! You three paddle with me as hard and fast as you can! We have to cover the fastest half-mile of your lives! REMATE!!!" Amon. "YES, SIR!!!" The three men answered in unison, oar in hand. Wex, the best archer of the group lit a small brazier on the boat and dyed his arrowhead in the flames. The ship was about eighty feet away. Not too difficult a target. Wex drew his bow, aimed at the still visible target, and fired the bolt of fire... A few seconds later, more flaming arrows appeared in the sky... Fifty arrows to be exact. It was a masterly deed... as no more flaming arrows were fired. All the archers in the lifeboats had hit their targets... A spectacle of dancing red and orange lights radiated for nearly a mile radius. Fifty ships caught fire, all pointing in one direction... The mouth of Pyke Harbor. Wex stood still and admired the spectacle with satisfaction. The moment of glory and spectacle lasted until the archer heard a voice... "EXCELLENT SHOT WEX! Well done... Now put out that damn brazier and grab an oar if you don't want to kill us all!!!" He praised and scolded Amon at the same time. "Y-YES!!! I beg your pardon, Captain Fury!... But..." Wex noticed something. "BUT?! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING WEX?! The Greyjoy ships are going to swoop down on us if you don't turn that light off now!" Amon. "... Captain! I see a signal from Ser Davos. They need help. We're the closest... What do we do Captain?" Wex asked. The other crew members stopped their actions to all stare at their captain. Amon bit his tongue. He didn't want to say those words. Not this time... 'NO! Not this time! Don't do it, Amon! Don't do it! Think of Cassy! To Jory! Little Lola! NO! DON'T DO IT! That will be the decoy ship! It will be suicide! DON'T DO IT! DO NOT SAY THOSE WORDS!' shouted a voice inside Ser Amon Fury's head... Never would he have boarded the ship that was to be the decoy for the Greyjoy fleet! That would have been a certainty of death. "FUCK!!! Fuck me and fuck whatever is wrong with my rotten head!!!..." Said the captain cursing himself. Finally, Amon sighed in a surrendered manner... The four crew members had been waiting for an answer for almost twenty seconds... About two minutes later... Balon was staring wide-eyed at the scene less than two miles from his fortress. The Castle promontory was the highest point on the Isle of Pyke. The bridge was about three hundred feet above sea level. The horizon could be seen well over thirty miles away. The first bridge of the four towers of the Greyjoy fortress faced right towards the harbor. The screams at the harbor could be heard from there. A wall of flame, at least ten feet high, stretched the length of the harbor entrance. Dozens of burning wrecks blocked the only way in and out of Pyke harbor. A port that currently housed half of King Balon's offensive Fleet. A surge of anger and despair made the man lose his mind... "NOO!!! HOW COULD THIS HAPPEN?!! WHO DID IT? I WANT THE ENEMY RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS DISASTER TO BE CAPTURED ALIVE!!!! I SHALL PERSONALLY DROWN AND BAPTIZE THOSE UNBELIEVERS!!!... MARON!!!" He finally called to Balon. "Yes, father," Maron answered instantly. Balon managed with an enormous effort to regain some of his lucidity. "Have the Iron Victory send a message... By order of the king, that enemy ship must be captured at all costs. ... Tell your uncle Victarion that failure will not be allowed." End POV. --------------- POV: Bloody Snow. On the Lighthouse of Hope, about two miles away from the Greyjoy Fleet. About two minutes after a light message was transmitted to a flagship outside the harbor... The ship on which fifty-one heroic individuals were resting their feet was in full motion towards a dark but well-charted course. Duncan had just heard a sailor shout. The speed that the ship had just reached was nine knots. A truly remarkable achievement. Enough speed to outrun most enemy ships. A dozen ships had already left in pursuit of theirs. Bloody Snow hoped that number was at least thirty. But even twelve was better than nothing. At this rate, those twelve enemy longships would be headed for a fleet of over four hundred ships ready to greet them. All the sailors in the lifeboats, even the cowards who had abandoned Ser Davos, were already safe in the ten support caravels provided by House Tallhart. The Iron Fleet would not have been able to reach those ships. In a fair wind, a caravel could even reach a speed of eleven knots. An unattainable speed for the Ironborn Longships. By now, the distress beacon must have reached the Royal Fleet stationed just over thirty miles away. A chain of dozens of fishing boats had been placed along a line to send out a signal light as quickly as possible. Now the Lighthouse of Hope, the former Greyjoy ship, was traveling at full speed towards the Allied Fleet. In less than two hours they should have been able to reach their third and final goal of the plan. Entitled Saving the Brave Heroes from the Drowned God. If they had managed to evade the enemy ships for more than an hour and a half, they would have had a chance. Five hundred versus fifty, that was a tough challenge even for the heir to The Watcher... We've had a tough time of it this time... Luckily there are still a few Heroes in this rotten world. My father, but especially my mother, must never know how much we risked. If Ser Amon Fury and his four men had not answered our call, we would most likely have made it halfway before we were caught. Every good sailor had more than ten good soldiers in this particular situation. I swear, if we make it out of this in one piece, I'll make sure those five Heroes of Westeros come out of it showered with gold and honors... I will make sure that history will never forget their deeds.' He promised himself, a boy who never forgot anything. By now his body and that of his twenty-four comrades-in-arms were dry. They were no longer in danger of hypothermia. The boy thought it was time to put on his new armor. Only after the cold had passed did he notice that his sword, Red Rain, was missing from the unaccustomed pile of weapons and armor. As soon as he finished putting on his armor, which consisted of the first layer of fine chain mail, a layer of boiled fine leather, lined in silk and linen, steel leggings and armbands, triple-scaled shoulder straps of basilisk skin, and the usually studded leather gloves standard issue for all Winter's Watch, he reached Ser Davos. "Ser Davos, can I trouble you or should I come back later?" The boy asked the man who continued to grip the helm. "You must disturb me, Lord Duncan... I need a distraction to keep me from shitting myself. I've managed to maintain a decent image so far after all." Ser Davos replied as he continued to shift his gaze between the compass, the horizon, and the sail. Every inch of canvas was tightly stretched and bulging in one direction. It was proof that a good captain was always holding a course with the wind in his favor. "Ahaha! Glad to be of help, Ser... I'd like to ask you a question. But I'm beginning to think I shouldn't ask... It would be a blow to me to receive an answer like: Because of that regrettable incident called 'Mutiny', where I thought we were all doomed, I haven't had time to think about your steel sword of Valyria. It's probably lying 50 to 60 feet deep near Pyke harbor by now." The boy was half ironic and half-seriously concerned. "Ah, right your sword!" The Northern hero nearly collapsed upon hearing the first part of the reply... but then Ser Davos continued, saying: "I have it right by my side, my Lord. Fear not." Davos uncovered part of his velvet cloak showing a very, very familiar handle and scabbard. "Phew... Thank you, Ser Davos. I..." Bloody Snow was interrupted by a shout from the boatswain's mate on the main ship. "CAPTAIN!!! SHIP APPROACHING!" The boatswain. Davos turned sharply behind him, but with that darkness, he couldn't make out the ship among those dozens of lights in the distance. "WHAT SHIP, NYMOS? DESCRIBE IT" Davos shouted to get an idea of the possible threat. "A DOUBLE-SAILED DROMON! A FLAGSHIP, CAPTAIN DAVOS. IT'S CATCHING UP. ABOUT 9-10 KNOTS OF SPEED! BANNER GREYJOY ON BOTH SAILS!" Nymos. "Do you recognize her?" Bloody Snow asked with concern. "...THE FIGUREHEAD, NYMOS! CAN YOU SEE THE FIGUREHEAD?" Davos. "NO FIGUREHEAD! IT LOOKS LIKE... AN IRON BRIDGE FOR ATTACK DOCKING!!!" Nymos. "...it's the Iron Victory. The fastest ship in the Iron Fleet. Victarion Greyjoy will be joining us." Davos announced that gloomy information while keeping his cool. The experienced sailor, a veteran of dozens of life-and-death experiences, looked for a solution before panicking. "How long before he reaches us?" Bloody Snow. "... An hour if we're lucky. The Royal Fleet won't arrive for another hour and a half." Davos. "Can we gain a few more minutes? If it's just Iron Victory we have to hold off before reinforcements arrive, we can do it." Affirmed the boy confidently. "Just the Iron Victory? That is the largest ship in the entire Iron Fleet. Victarion Greyjoy has at least a hundred men in his crew." Davos. "A hundred men and a great warrior is a challenge we can still hold our own against... So is there any way we can get just that one ship to board us without the other twelve backing him up?" Bloody Snow. Davos thought about that for a moment... "There is... but it's a gamble. If Stannis is only a few minutes late we'd all be fish food." Davos. "Do it, Captain Davos. Let us warriors do what we do best." Said the boy, grabbing the hilt of the sword still attached to Davos' belt.
