~~~Refred Rykker, Duskendale, Crownlands~~~
~~~Twelfth Moon, 277 AC~~~
The kingdom was upon great tribulations; gone were the times of tranquility and peace. instead, now the kingdom, for the most part, was embroiled in power struggles, skirmishes, and battles in an attempt to restore what once was.
And in front of me was one such problem, Duskendale, one of the richest cities in Crownlands, and now, quite possibly one to become far worse than Harrenhal. Two moons had passed since Prince Rhaegar was captured, two moons since the banners of the Crownlands mobilized to lay siege to Duskendale.
My house was the first to answer the call, followed by the Rosbys and the Velaryons, and yet, now two moons later, with over fifteen thousand men at the front of the walls, nothing could be done. The prince's life was paramount, and because of this, Lord Tywin refrained several times from attempting to force his way into the city.
The king's orders not to storm the city until the prince was released or known to be out of danger caused the fifteen thousand plus men to serve only as another ornament to the landscape.
Many lords had been upset because of this, it had to be known that it was food and drink for the levies, and with the Reach refusing to sell grain to the rest of the kingdom, it was the stores of the smaller villages and castles that suffered.
It was fortunate that the Reach's grain was back in sight two weeks ago, or the siege attempt would not have lasted long. But that was a reminder that they were doing nothing, just starving a city, while Prince Rhaegar lived the same fate.
Today was about the same thing, basking in the sun under the tent, while sentries watched the walls from a distance, until night fell and the moon provided a soft glow over the countryside. During the early evening hours, everything flowed daily, soldiers played dice or toasted, while the crackling of campfires and torches joined the bustle of the camp, even late at night.
Or at least that's how it was treated, until one of my men entered my tent without warning, the act caused me to look up from some papers lying on a fledgling table, and grab my sword. "What's wrong?" I asked angrily, as my heart stilled.
"My lord, Duskendale, the city, there are fires within its walls, My lord," that alone was enough for me to be leaving my tent with my nerves on edge, the last thing I wanted was for something bad to happen in the city, such as a riot or a coup by the little people due to the siege, and with which the prince's safety would be affected.
"All soldiers in this camp get organized, be ready for anything!" I immediately began barking orders, while in the distance I watched as soldiers from Rosby, Stokeworth, and Buckwell houses, the main houses of Crownlands. They were organizing themselves in like manner, so that the tide of men, who moments before had been asleep, drinking or enjoying themselves in equal parts, were mobilized at the possible contest that was about to ensue.
"BOOM!"
Before all that, more explosions could be heard within the city, it was as if the gods themselves had grown tired of the whole Darklyn charade and had unleashed all their divine might, unleashing lightning and thunder within the walls.
I, on the other hand, knew that as much as I wanted to see the cursed city burn, I still understood that the prince's safety came first, so without letting any more time be wasted, I mounted my horse and took my place at the front of my men, three thousand to be exact, not many, but enough to slay every guard hiding behind the walls of Duskendale.
"Charge dammit, destroy those gates and suffocate the city, the prince's safety is at stake!" Unlike words sweet and full of courage or eliciting prowess and elation, I was more pragmatic and only said what was important.
Still, that was enough for my men to charge, with the possibilities of being the men to finally free the prince from the rebel yoke, they did not wait for the forces of the other houses to join them, instead; with the fervor of a blood-loving man, they rose amidst howls and screams more conducive to a whore.
Climbing on my horse, I managed to quickly reach the gates along with the men who enjoyed a steed, but with no battering ram or tools capable of breaking down the gates, I understood that the idea of charging without a plan was not a good idea, however, within the city a fight could be heard, and fearing the worst, I instructed my men to charge the gate.
"My lord, wait!" In the midst of it all, one of my men caught my attention, "What is it, Samuel?!" Samuel, my master-at-arms and faithful advisor, did not answer me, but pointed towards the camp, where I could see how a wagon pulled by two buffalo was, but it was not the wagon that excited me, but the battering ram that hung over the wagon.
'Well, at least the door would no longer be a problem', I thought, but a light knock on the door startled me, at first I ignored it, but when I heard it again, I was shocked, the large doors were made of oak, clad with a large iron plate, and only a blow from a battering ram could cause the door any damage, and even make it vibrate, as I saw it do a few moments ago.
"Tank," again the noise, and this time it was louder, so much so that even the huge hinges were stressed by the blow, and dust fell from the walls that held the doors standing. 'Get back, we must get away,' I thought, my men were very close to the door, and if these fell, being struck from within, my men would be the ones to suffer.
"Get away from the doors, now!" I shouted as loud as my voice would allow, 'tank', and the loud shaking of the doors was heard again, "back damn it, now!" I shouted again, and this time my voice was heard over the line of men, who at last heard my orders and began to move away from the door.
"Tank!"
"Tank!"
"Bommm!"
We had not gone more than ten meters when the huge doors that had stopped us minutes before gave way, falling outward and raising a huge curtain of smoke.
For a moment, no one moved, as we processed what had happened, and it wasn't until the smoke settled that we could see clearly what was going on, and yet, I couldn't believe it.
"Ser Barristan? Ser Gerold?" I asked aloud, as I saw the two knights of the Kingsguard inside the city, their once lustrous and shining armor stained with blood and gore.
"AHHHHH!" my questions were left in my throat as msi men charged into the city, running for glory and gold, instead, I stood at the gates watching as the two King's Guard looked on, not understanding how they had managed to infiltrate the city, and how they had managed to break down the gates.
"Ser, what about the prince?" I asked, anxious about everything that had happened, not just the presence of the Royal Guards, but the absence of the prince along with them. "Secure the city, my lord, let no one leave, and get me a messenger."
"Messenger?" I asked doubtfully, '"Yes dammit!" however, Ser Gerold exploded, "Do I have to repeat myself to you?!"
"No, Ser Gerold, I'll get you a messenger right away," I replied, "Samuel, get a messenger as soon as possible," I asked my master-at-arms, as I advanced into the city, I thought I knew what would await me as I entered the city, if the appearance of the two Royal Guards was any advance, for blood, both dried and still warm covered them, even their white cloaks were stained with dirt and blood.
Sample of unparalleled fighting within the walls, but now, what my eyes saw was not something two men could do; it was as if a wolf had entered the sheep pen. For I had no other way of seeing it, and even so, what I saw did not resemble such a thing.
There was no stone on which I stepped that did not run rivers of thick blood, as red as a freshly harvested apple, hands, arms, heads and legs severed, a slaughter, there was no greater explanation for that, my horse was even altered, hesitating to continue walking among such a scene.
I reached the point where the strong metallic smell of blood overwhelmed me, and the horrible smell of the bodies assaulted my nostrils with force. Above, the sun's rays were threatening to come out, and I knew that when they did, the smell would be even worse.
"By the Seven, what the heck happened here?" I wondered for the fifth time, as my horse stopped in front of a column supporting part of a now destroyed building, but it wasn't the destroyed building that made me uneasy, it was what was hanging from the column.
A man, a soldier of House Darklyn, judging by the house crest erect on the man's breastplate, however, the man had seen better days, for now, he stood against the column, suspended in the air over half a meter, held to the column by the fact that his head, still wearing his helmet, was jammed and crushed against the column.
Large, furrowed finger marks were evident on the front of the helmet, once pristine and shining, now crushed and bloodied, with one of the poor man's eyes protruding and hanging out of the helmet's opening.
Large, furrowed finger marks were evident on the front of the helmet, once pristine and shining, now crushed and bloodied, with one eye of the poor man protruding and hanging out of the helmet's opening.
"My lord, look, Lord Denys Darklyn," Samuel, who came to me unnoticed, a product of being attentive to the poor man's monstrosity of death in front of me, brought me back to the present, and in that moment, anger and courage filled my being, Lord Denys, the man whom pride and greed consumed, and who thanks to that Duskendale, and his innocent people, had to suffer the consequences.
But now, Lord Denys looked like a shell of his former self, his face was swollen, and blood was pouring from his temple and right eye, and he was being pulled like a pig by another Kingsguard, whom I could not distinguish from a distance.
.
.
~~~King's Landing, Throne Hall~~~
~~~Tywin Lannister~~~
As much as the realm was within a sea of upheaval and rebellion, and the political landscape was gravely endangered by the constant tribulations the realm as a whole faced, I knew I could not give up on keeping what was left afloat.
Aerys was stable, or so I wanted to believe, the meeting I had had with King Jaesyrian had calmed him, whatever was discussed within the chambers of King Aerys was kept secret, as Aerys would not tell me, still, my spies had spoken of the lack of three members of the Kingsguard, the most capable in their own right, and certainly the most skilled.
Ser Barristan the Bold, Ser Arthur Dayne; the Sword of the Morning, and Ser Gerold Hightower, the White Bull and Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, why those three men were not in the fortress at the King's side in this time of extreme turmoil was a mystery, especially surrounded by the fact that they were not seen leaving the city.
And yet they were not, but he knew, he sensed, that it had to do with King Jaesyrian, the same one who now spent much of his time in front of the Weirwood in the Goodswood of the Red Keep. Who was only approached by the famous so-called witches to talk to him, and then leave.
It had been that way since the night before, and today was no different. Something was going on, and Aerys would not tell me.
"Your Grace, my flock has been lost, the corral gates were forced open, and there is no sign of my sheep," a man, a shepherd from what I could see, was at the front in what was another court meeting to discuss the affairs of the city.
Aerys was on the Iron Throne, the hideous chair over which more wars had been fought than he could remember, with Ser Harlam Grandison and Ser Oswell Whent standing on either side of the throne's feet, while Ser Jonothor Darry was with the Queen in her chambers.
And the sight of only two Kingsguards reignited the questions in my mind, not understanding what had happened that I had overlooked. And at what point had I become blind to the matter?
"What is it you wish of the crown, good shepherd?" I asked, wanting to finish the matter more quickly, and thus get back to engrossing myself in ideas to get the kingdom afloat, "Help, my Lord Hand, my sheep had been restless about the presence of the dragon in the heavens, and..."
No, no, no. He didn't have to mention that, any sign of attack or aggression towards the Jaesyrian King was enough for Aerys to explode, he mentioned several times that Azrael came from Old Valyria, that his blood, though diluted, was still strong, that this was how he had become master of the dragon Endoxes, and therefore, he saw him as an equal.
And so, he had to stop the man before he exasperated Aerys, who remained calm and wanted to continue to keep it that way. "The crown will intervene in the matter, he will be provided with three men to aid him in the search until he finds them."
"But... What about the dragon?" damn it, was no one thinking about this damn place? "The dragon?" and it was this he wanted to avoid, "the dragon is called Endoxes, it's King Jaesyrian's dragon, and the dragon wants to fly all damn day, so be it! And if you don't like it, you may as well hide like the crawling rat you are."
The poor man blanched, "my... my king, that was not what I meant," the man wanted to fix his mistake, but there was no more room for it, so I went on the defensive, "you may retire, wait behind the gates, in a few hours the men I assured you will escort you," I said, wanting to avoid any conflict with Aerys before it began.
"Next," I expostulated, as I watched the man retreat, and how he narrowly avoided an accident. Out of the long line stepped a man, and I immediately looked at him carefully, instead of the dirty or gray or brown robes or gowns worn by the common people, instead, the man wore fine silk garments, which shimmered faintly when the sunlight touched them, jeweled rings highlighted his fingers, and gold and silver chains and earrings hung from his neck and ears, it was evident that he was not an ordinary person, but no matter how hard I thought, no person of his characteristics who belonged to one of the great houses came to mind.
Worse, that he dared to dress so decoratively, especially in a place like King's Landing, where robberies were around every corner.
"Who are you?" I began the usual routine of questions: "What are you looking for from the crown, and what are your requests?" It was clear that the man had caught the attention of the court, silence and expectation were not achieved by just anyone, but something about the man had done it.
"Hahaha, no, I don't come to ask for anything, I come to deliver a message." A wave of murmurs and echoes of conversations filled the room, as I tensed my jaw, and the Kingsguard's posture tightened. "What message?" I inquired, wanting to get to the heart of the matter quickly. "Prince Rhaegar, loved, respected, cherished, for many, it has been a blessing to have him as crown prince, a pity he is no longer in the city, don't you think so, Lord Hand?"
"You dare?" high above the Throne, Aerys' question was heard, loud, clear, concise and direct, but above all, filled with hatred and rancor, promising a dangerous end for the one to whom it was directed. "Sorry, I got distracted from the message." Still, the man did not perceive the danger he was in, or in a show of stupidity, he ignored it. Either of those two paths, it was clear he would not emerge unscathed.
"Prince Rhaegar has been held captive for two moons, subject to torture and product starvation because his king, in his infinite wisdom, preferred to save himself rather than his progeny, and now, the prince finds himself not in Duskendale, but elsewhere, and new claims are raised."
"That's enough, I'll have your damned tongue, I'll have the executioner cut it off inch by inch, bit by bit, and then sew it back on you!" Aerys at this point was already very elated, with no path he could take to calm him down, and all thanks to that damned man who didn't know how to keep his mouth shut.
Wait though.
Looking at the man again, I remembered the last thing he said, "The prince is not in Duskendale, but elsewhere, and new claims are rising."
"What do you know of the prince? Why do you say he is no longer in Duskendale?" I asked, and for the first time in many years, I prayed to the Seven that the situation would not get worse.
The man smiled, and I could not help but snap my teeth at him and wipe that smug smile off his face, he raised his hands and removed a ring from his fingers, then dropped it near my feet, "Ser Alister," I said, having no intention of bending down, for that, the knight several feet away from me reached over, bending down and taking the ring, then handing it to me, "my lord."
"Thank you," now, with the ring in hand, I examined it, the words stuck in my throat, "this...where did you get it, why do you possess it?"
Aerys started down the steps of the throne, and even the man was restrained by the guards, but while that was happening, I was still looking at the ring... Prince Rhaegar's ring.
"What is it, Tywin?" Aerys came to me, but without saying anything, I just showed him the ring, which he saw it and, for the first time in the last days, I noticed lucidity in his gaze, only to be erased by anger and madness. "How do you possess my son's ring? Will you speak now, or will death be a simple and less painful path than what awaits you?"
Though I too craved answers, one glance around us and I noticed how everyone stared at us, the wave of gossip and rumor would not wait to be created, and dealing with this subject at court was perhaps not the best option. "My king, Aerys, perhaps we should deal with this elsewhere, the prince's safety could be at risk if it is dealt with in such an open place," I said to Aerys, using Rhaegar as an impetus to agree, and such it seemed to do the trick, because he looked down, then nodded.
"Guards, bring that man with us, as for the others, today's session is closed leave the hall and return on another day." Without further ado, we made our way to the antechamber of the Throne Room, a room where the small council met after Aerys did not want to meet in the Tower of the Hand, where such meetings were usually held.
The man was thrown to the ground roughly, while Ser Jonothor unsheathed his sword and pointed it at the man's throat, "You will tell all you know, and how you got this".
The man no longer behaved with the arrogance of before, he now looked like a cornered animal: "I am only the messenger, I was sent to deliver a message, I know nothing more."
"That's not what I asked you!" I shouted at him as I gave him a hard slap on the cheek, enough to make blood gush out of his mouth. "I don't know much, only what my master instructed me to say."
"Who is your master? What does he want?" This time it was Aerys' turn to ask, with a stormy lucidity in his gaze, "My master is Euron Greyjoy, he has the prince, this ring is proof of that, he hopes the king will agree to his demands."
I could only sigh, not knowing how to react, if that was true, getting to the prince was going to make it more difficult, because he was easily already in the Iron Islands, a place that would be difficult to access, "what does he want, in case he indeed has the prince, what does Euron Greyjoy want?" I asked, being the most sensible thing at the moment, and trying to keep calm.
"Independence, he wants the Iron Islands to cut all ties with the Iron Throne, he wants King Aerys to declare them independent of the Seven Kingdoms, he wants five million gold dragons, two million sacks of wheat, one million sacks of each of barley, oats, and rye. Fifty thousand head of cattle and fifty thousand sheep, plus, he must promise not to ask the Xandarian crown for help in an intervention in the Isles, or the Prince's life will be at risk."
"That is absurd!" I expostulated, without thinking of the impudence that such things meant, nothing of the sort was possible, it would never be done, they would make the crown, and in its extension, the whole kingdom, look like weak impertinents without heads to rule them, besides plunging the kingdom into a shortage and a debt impossible to pay.
Five million gold dragons? Did the crown shit gold? It might well have half a million, but five million? Let alone a loan of such magnitude, the Iron Bank might well ask for astronomical interest, impossible royalties, and half the kingdom as insurance. And I wouldn't agree to lend that kind of money to the crown ever, not to mention that letting out such a magnitude of gold to the kingdom would only destabilize it more than it already is.
"Take him away, lock him in the lowest cells of the Black Cells, let worms and salt water be his torment, nothing that was said in this room will get out, we will await word from Duskendale, until then, my son is with no Kraken." Aerys refused to accept the words of Euron Greyjoy's messenger; in fact, I didn't believe it either. For how the fuck had the man managed to pull the prince and kidnap him from the clutches of the Darklyn?
"Your Grace, Lord Hand, a messenger from Duskendale, says he brings pressing news from the camp stationed in the city," a guard entered the antechamber of the Throne Room in the company of another man, one wearing light armor.
With a thousand questions forming in my mind, I approached the man and snatched the message from his hands, breaking the seal and reading the words carefully.
Duskendale has fallen, the gates have been broken down with the aid of the intervention of two knights of the Kingsguard; Ser Barristan Selmy and Ser Gerold Hightower, both of whom were seen by several witnesses banging on the gates with bare hands, causing the gate to give way and allowing the royal forces stationed just outside the city to enter.
In addition, the state of the city is lamentable, thousands of mangled bodies decorate the streets and courtyards, fires devour the healthy parts and rivers of blood run through the gutters, and all this before the royal forces entered the city, in the midst of all this, Lord Denys Darklyn, his wife Myrisana, his progeny and all those related to the captivity of the prince, have been placed in cells until the order of the king.
Lord Refred Rykker.
The letter, simple and short, was more than enough to end moons of anguish and despair, since with this, Prince Rhaegar's captivity would come to an end, would it not? I immediately looked at the door through which the guards had taken Euron Greyjoy's supposed messenger, and upon seeing the prince's ring on the table in the center of the room, a lump formed in my throat.
Noticing that they were two letters rolled into one, I set about reading the second, and this time, I knew the outcome was not going to be simple.
Your Grace, under your orders, my brothers of the guard and I have done our job, we were able to break into Duskendale with the help of the potions that King Jaesyrian provided us, true to his word, he granted us, strength, speed and superhuman abilities, more than enough to yoke all the guards in the city.
You should know that the city has been cleansed of any scum that tormented the royal family, however, it is a shame for me to point out that we have not found Prince Rhaegar, in his cell we only found his severed hand, putrefied and still with one of the rings he usually wears, but without knowing about his fate.
For the time being, we will continue to guard the prisoners, whom we have been able to capture alive, and for the most part unharmed.
Ser Gerold Hightower, Lord Commander of the Royal Guard.
And so, chaos reigned again.
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