The salty sea wind blew in their faces, invigorating the Ironborn. Not long after catching the familiar scent, they heard the sound of waves crashing against the shore and rocks. After trudging through the forest for most of the night, the sailors who had fled the city finally arrived at the seaside.
Their pursuers were slow to appear. Along the way, the Ironborn had broken their initial resolve and rested several times, but each time, after sitting for just ten minutes, Asha would urge them to rise and press on. When their feet finally stepped off moss and fallen leaves onto solid ground, and the dense canopy overhead was left behind, half the men collapsed to the ground in a heap, refusing to get up again.
Under the moonlight, the dark sea, whipped into rippling white waves by the cold wind, came into clear view. This was not one of the agreed-upon evacuation points, and the ships Asha had promised were naturally nowhere in sight. Her instincts told her to continue along the coastline with her crew through the night in search of the ships... but reason whispered otherwise: if no one had pursued them all night, then perhaps Robb Stark had let them go.
Looking at her loyal men, now utterly exhausted and sprawled across the sand, she couldn't bear to push them any further.
They had reached the sea. Though they didn't truly believe in such things, if dying with wet feet really helped one find the Drowned God's watery halls, then at least... they wouldn't be lost after death.
The ground near the beach was damp and cold. Asha found a large rock jutting up from the earth, leaned against it, unbuckled her leather armor, loosened the straps on her chest, and finally rested.
Droopy-Eyed Dale showed off his legendary ability to fall asleep anywhere, snoring the moment he lay down. Those with better stamina sat together, sharing the last of the cider and food they had brought from the city. The riders tended to the remaining horses. Her cousin Quenton Greyjoy sent a few men up the trees to stand watch.
After eating, most of those who hadn't collapsed found places to lie down. A few sharpened their swords and axes. The other of the only two women in the group—Hogan's red-haired daughter—dragged a man still full of energy into the woods. This stirred the imagination of the men who had eyes on Asha, thinking perhaps it was their "last chance in life." But the leader herself had neither the mood nor the intent. When one man tried to pull her behind a rock, she kicked him hard and ended the matter.
---
They had escaped Deepwood Motte without losing a single man, but now Asha knew it was time to consider the next step.
Leaving long-term plans aside, they first needed to find the ships.
After her defeat at the kingsmoot by her uncle Euron, four ships had still chosen to follow Asha back to the North to retake Deepwood Motte. She had ordered the crews left behind to anchor near a fishing village just north of Deepwood Motte. To be cautious, she'd instructed them: always keep half the ships patrolling and on standby at sea. If the wolf pup's counterattack came by the sea, they were to raise sail at once and head for Sea Dragon Point.
The problem now facing the Sea Monster's Daughter was that she didn't know whether the Northern army that attacked Deepwood Motte had already swept the coastline.
If they hadn't, that would be ideal. All four ships would be waiting a few leagues northeast along the shore, two close to land and two at sea. As long as they followed the coast eastward for half a day, she could get all her brothers back aboard and safely out of the North, which had become dangerous again with Robb Stark's return. At sea, they could think about their next destination.
If the coastline had already been swept, things were more troublesome. Sea Dragon Point was dozens of miles away. After a night of exhausting travel, without daring to use the main road, making it there in a single day was questionable. If they were caught by a coastal patrol in that time... with fewer than two hundred men, they had no hope of a clean escape.
It was said Robb Stark's southern army numbered a full twenty thousand, and they hadn't suffered heavy losses in the war. But the force that attacked Deepwood Motte the previous night was estimated at fewer than ten thousand, meaning the remaining ten thousand were likely sent toward the coast. Thinking further: if no one had pursued them all night, could it be because there were sweep teams stationed all along the shore, and she was already surrounded with nowhere left to run, making pursuit unnecessary?
Asha wanted to go directly to Sea Dragon Point, far away from Deepwood Motte… but she didn't dare. Going to the first rendezvous point meant heading northeast for a few leagues. Going to Sea Dragon Point meant traveling dozens of miles west. If they went northeast first and found no ships, they could still turn back west. But if they went directly west and found nothing, they'd be stranded.
East or west?
That was the question.
Confused and exhausted, Asha drifted off to sleep.
...
In her dream, Robb Stark's ten thousand coastal sweep troops had already burned all four of her ships. Unaware, she led her crew east toward the beach north of Deepwood Motte and found nothing, then rushed west to Sea Dragon Point—still no sign of rescue. After days of wandering like headless chickens on that barren peninsula, they were finally caught by the Northern army, which arrived at a leisurely pace. Twenty thousand soldiers surged forward like a muddy tide, overwhelming the hundred Ironborn in an instant. She was captured alive. After suffering torture and humiliation, she was tied to a stake and burned.
...
Asha jolted awake. There was no fire burning her, only a pale light above—the stars were fading, and night was nearly over.
"Lazybones, get up!" She jumped down from the rock she'd been resting against and kicked Cole, who had tried pulling her behind the rock earlier and had fallen asleep. "If you don't want to go home, keep sleeping! The rest of you, wake up now. Eat something, wash your face with seawater. It's time to move!"
The quiet, open-air camp gradually came to life. Though they had only rested for about an hour, the crushing exhaustion and despair had lifted somewhat. With loud groans and complaints, the Ironborn sat up, stretched, gathered their few belongings, and prepared to flee again.
"Move it!" Asha snapped her riding whip through the air with a sharp crack. "If you're not ready by the time I mount up, follow my hoof prints!"
A sailor fastened the salt-stained links of his mail, picked up his weapon and slung it at his waist, but then froze, looking up into the distance. "What's that?!"
Asha followed his gaze. The sky was beginning to brighten, but all around was still dark. Being on the west coast, the sun wouldn't rise from the sea at dawn, and the light from the east was blocked by the Wolfswood, leaving little on the ground. The Sea Monster's Daughter peered carefully and saw only darkness. She was about to scold her jumpy subordinate when a small stone in her vision moved.
She came fully awake in an instant. Looking again, it wasn't just darkness. It was a dense line of people. Looking all around, they were surrounded. On all sides, enemies closed in. There was no escape.
---
(Damn it, the sneak attack failed.) Aegor frowned in frustration.
The Grey Area Citizens he led had rested for an hour at Deepwood Motte before leisurely pursuing the Ironborn. The Ironborn had taken their time meandering through the woods to the shore. A shapeshifter had informed him that the enemy had fallen asleep and hadn't posted enough sentries.
So, Aegor had planned a surprise attack to minimize casualties.
After maneuvering two thousand men into position and quietly surrounding the sleeping enemy, they had closed to within two or three hundred meters when the Ironborn suddenly awoke. Judging by the startled chaos, Aegor realized they hadn't been discovered—they had just woken up by coincidence.
What bad luck… but no matter. In war, there are always casualties.
"Blow the horn. Charge! Don't worry about the men. Try to capture the women alive. Whoever captures Balon Greyjoy's daughter gets a hundred silver stags!"
"Yes, Commander!"
...
If Asha Greyjoy knew she was worth only a hundred silver stags to these enemies, she might faint from rage. But seeing several thousand enemies surging forward with battle cries, she was already furious enough. "Which son of a dog was on watch?! The enemy's this close and you didn't see them?!"
"I... I... I couldn't hold on. I fell asleep."
"Couldn't hold on? Then why didn't you call for someone to relieve you?! Never mind, it's too late. Assemble! Ironborn! The ground beneath us is soaked with seawater! Die here in battle, and the Drowned God's watery halls are within reach!"
"Watery halls!"
The Ironborn had been ready to flee again. But with hope turned to mortal danger, they had no choice but to fight.
"What is dead may never die!"
"But rises again, harder and stronger!"
"Harder and stronger!"
"Kill!"
Over a hundred Ironborn, eyes bloodshot, raised their weapons and charged westward with a fury. Judging by their formation, they had a strong chance of breaking through with a single charge. But before they reached enemy lines, they were met not by swords or spears, but a volley of arrows from dozens of paces away.
Screams and groans rang out, but after the first volley, Asha realized far fewer had fallen than expected. Only one or two had been killed outright. A few had arrows stuck in them, but were still able to fight. Before she could react, the second wave wasn't arrows—it was rocks of all sizes.
...
"The other side isn't the pup's army! They don't even have enough bows!" Asha quickly deduced the truth from the weak arrow fire and the bizarre rocks. Her spirits lifted. "Brothers, hold steady! We can win!"
The enemy seemed to be just peasants. This discovery boosted the Ironborn's morale. They shouted the Drowned God's name and surged toward the Grey Area Citizens like starving wolves.
On one side were seasoned raiders, reasonably equipped and hardened by countless battles. On the other was a group of Grey Area Citizens, lacking iron weapons, with barely a hundred bows among two thousand men. Even the Night's Watch Industry recruits among them had seen little real combat. Though they held a massive numerical advantage, the outcome was far from certain.
Standing on a hill behind the battle, surrounded by a few dozen Mountain Clansmen, Aegor grudgingly acknowledged that the enemy's fighting strength exceeded his own. But he had no intention of letting his side fall into bloody, close-quarters combat. They had only arrived at the shore half an hour ago and had no time to set traps. But fortunately, he had something else.
The Ironborn charged hard toward one part of the encirclement. But just as they neared, the front line of Mountain Clansmen hurled strange, round objects. With the sharp crack of pottery shattering, a wall of fire burst to life between the two forces, burning with an eerie green glow.
The flame was only slightly taller than a man and not very wide... but its heat and color made the charging Ironborn hesitate. To the sea-worshipping people of the Iron Islands, burning to death was the most terrifying fate imaginable. Their bodies would become ash, unable to reach the Drowned God's watery halls.
This green fire, which burned even on the damp coastal mud, shattered their will to charge.
Asha led her crew in a new direction, hoping to circle the fire.
"Clang, clang, clang—"
With more sharp cracks, second and third firewalls ignited. Asha quickly understood the strategy—no matter where they charged, this cursed fire would be waiting.
One burst of effort, then fatigue, then collapse. At such a disadvantage, once the charge faltered, the outcome was sealed.
"Cowards!" She hurled a throwing axe across the fire toward the enemy. "There is no honor in this! Where is your commander? If he's a man, let him come out and fight me!"
No one answered. Instead came another wave of arrows and stones. The encirclement shrank to less than a hundred yards across. Two thousand Grey Area Citizens might seem like a lot, but they could only form a single ring. If the Ironborn had broken through immediately, they might have escaped. But now, with battle cries on all sides, Asha and her crew were engulfed by enemies more than tenfold their number. With bodies pushing bodies and weapons stabbing from every direction, personal skill and gear meant nothing.
This was truly a battle without honor. No singers would tell of it. No Maester would record it. No banners flew. No horns blew. No Lords gave speeches before the fight. They battled in the dim dawn, unable to even see each other's faces—only hatred and killing intent filled their eyes.
They weren't shouting "For Winterfell" anymore. That was Asha's last thought before she was pinned down by who-knew-how-many people.
Now, they were shouting: "Surrender and live."
(To be continued.)
***
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