webnovel

Blackheart (GoT, Witcher, DC)

In the first volume, Daniel Rylov is a former war criminal who was despised by society, executed and given a new life in another world. And this world is much better in his opinion than the last one. Blood, violence, sex and will - that's what he always needed. On the downside, he's Walder Freya's bastard... In the second volume, the Lion of Night's long-standing gratitude allowed him to leave the old woman with the scythe once again and is reborn in a new world, the world of Andrzej Sapkowski's The Witcher... In the third volume of Damian Blackheart's adventures. He was reborn in a new body and a new world. He had adored the Gothic universe of Batman and Joker, two of his idols from whom he had taken much from. And now he found himself right next to them. Subscribe at patreon.com/FanFictionPremium

FanFictionPremium · Book&Literature
Not enough ratings
80 Chs

Chapter 3

Damian Rivers.

Old Town was a rather interesting place. A bit noisy compared to other cities and castles in Westeros, but still better. There was none of the typical "medieval" grime that the history books wrote about. And I doubt that people like the Hightowers would tolerate the stench ala King's Harbour at their doorstep. And the Maesters wouldn't want to live here in a place as disgusting as the capital. So they kept order here, though not as in the 21st century, but they didn't litter the city with dung and all sorts of filth. So the Hightowers before me have a big plus in their bank.

We arrived in the city on a requisitioned ironborn ship, my group and the merchant Harven and a dozen of his sailors he'd managed to recruit in Sigard.

The journey was not exactly close, but safe for the most part. No one attacked us, and we bravely trained and conversed. It took a dozen people to run this ship, but we had a dozen and a half, including my youth. It was there that Glen, one of the twins, caught an infection through a wound from his eye, and after three days of fever died. It was a shame. At least he had some combat experience, and I'd thrown my money at him to equip him properly. After all, the better equipped he was, the better his chances of survival. Marik and Ben grieved for the boy, Tom sang a few songs in his honour, Varik also said a few words, Gerda drank wine for his repose with the rest of the newcomers to my squad.

We buried him at sea, that is, we lowered his body through the gangway into the water. "Sea funeral", like in the films.

It's a pity, the kid really had a future as a great warrior. And now.

Ben was grieving for his brother all the way to Old Town, so as soon as we got ashore, Varick took him to a brothel to get him drunk and... I mean, put him with whores. Should help him. Anyway, if it doesn't, I'll take him on. I don't want no slobs in my squad. They ruin discipline, and we're not very disciplined as it is.

While Varick, Ben, Tom and a few other boys went to a not-so-distant resting place, we went to Uncle Harven's mansion.

There we were welcomed with open arms and all the "eastern" courtesy. After the ritual taking of bread and salt, my boys relaxed a little, while I did not relax. For I remembered the canon with my family. Sometimes even for lords, the law of hospitality is unwritten.

After a lovely dinner, we went to our assigned rooms. Some of the boys had managed to grab a few girls for a night of more pleasant company. I contented myself with Aubrey's company. She was working off her position as marquette. I was content for the time being.

Barley Gerda was the one who stood out among us, or rather stood out. She, despite the advances of a handsome young Dornish man (and it wasn't Lari the Short-Handed), got rid of him and managed to get a young maiden into her room. Yes, yes, our Valkyrie Berserker is the ultimate lesbian. I talked to her back on the ship. She's not much of a talker, but she's willing to talk. Plus, I'm her commanding officer. She's got a pretty interesting or even funny story. She's some sort of daughter of the local Lord Barley, that house up north is sort of "noble", meaning local nobles, albeit a mountain clan. She should have married the son of the other head of the mountain clan, but our little Gerda didn't like boys. She had admired female beauty since childhood, to the point of pranking even her younger sister, as if "playing" with each other. They did not understand much about those "games" at that time, but she was caught by her mother and explained the situation, and then punished. But it didn't break her spirit, she didn't like the boys much anyway, there was no hatred, just no sympathy for them. She trained on an equal footing with the rest of her peers, it was the custom of the mountain clans that even a woman should be able to defend herself. So at the age of sixteen she had a "gift", which was not so rare in her clan, so they decided not to waste the good for nothing and decided to strengthen good neighbourly relations with a neighbouring clan, and they just needed a bride "with a dowry". And such a plus as hereditary ability to enter the state of "berserker" was valued among them.

And all would be nothing, but the young warrior did not want to marry him and ran away. They tried to catch her, but during the chase, in which her fiancé and even her brother took part, she entered the state of a "hulk" and chopped everyone to pieces, after such a thing she was not allowed to go home. Since then she wandered around the North, and then in mercenary groups, the last group was quite small and quickly disbanded, she decided to spend the night alone in a tavern, where she got drunk and was captured by some forest bandits who were washing their business. She woke up in a cage. Such a banal story of her capture.

Daren One-Eyed, who was also a northerner, became a victim of his own stupidity. He had been a warrior in his youth and had served House Mormont for a time, but after the Baratheon Rebellion, where he lost his eye, he settled down and began to hunt and fish for food. About six months ago, he was captured by slave traders. He foolishly decided to go at them alone, and with only one oar from his boat. Well, he killed three of them during the fight, but then they stunned him and put him in chains. They wanted to sell him at the slave market and almost brought him to Volantis, but the slave ship was attacked by ordinary pirates and eventually he became a trophy that was taken to Lys. Then there was another fight between pirates and further they were already a new team of slave-trading pirates took them to Pentos, but there they were attacked by another pirate team, this time the one that we destroyed, they wanted to see them on the mines to send to their islands, that is the same slave trade but already internal. In the last captivity he met Larry and Barry Asgen.

In general, I even began to feel a little stressed by such... karma, probably, of this northerner, and remembering once the phrase of a historian, that any mercenary group in some way is bandits and pirates from the point of view of humanism, I began to fear for my heel. But Darien wasn't in a hurry to get kicked off the team just yet.

Larry is an interesting character, he's not very talkative either, but he's more chatty than Gerda. He was a squire to a knight for a couple of years, but that knight was killed during one of the tournaments and Larry wandered around the Disputed Lands as a mercenary, and there he was captured in one of the battles and sold into slavery on a merchant ship that was robbed by Loric pirates.

Barry Asgen, on the other hand, was the most mysterious figure yet. He's a big talker, but he doesn't like to talk about his past. So far, all I know about him is that he's not a faceless or rglorist, that he's the bastard of a noble house of Braavos, and that he's a good swordsman, having trained under Sirio Forel himself. I tested his skills, and they were far superior to mine. He'll be a very good sparring partner. I need to improve my proficiency in all forms and styles of weaponry.

Although, as he admitted, I'm not bad. And it's understandable, the past Damian himself is not a simple militiaman, but a guy that since the age of nine has been practising under the guidance of a master on the weapons of the Twins. And then he trained hard with the knight who had him as a squire, and then six months of gruelling training after I moved in. In general, even if I don't win against such mastodons as Selmy, the late Dane and Kingslayer, I'll at least make them not bored and possibly wound them. However, I'm not worried yet, maybe my level is much higher than I think, because books and TV series are one thing, but real practice is another. After all, I'm not going to fight them one-on-one. And with my experience and the threat of my life, I'll be an unpleasant opponent for them.

- You're so glum this morning. - Aubrey, who was lying at my side, complained to me.

- I've got a lot on my mind. And a lot of things that need to be sorted out soon.

- That's a lot of thinking for a simple warrior.

- I'm not just a simple warrior, I'm also a commander. And any commander should think a little before he does anything, otherwise the squad he commands is doomed to failure, and even worse, to a horrible death.

She didn't say anything, just rolled over onto her other side and sniffled.

I had no time to lie around, I had a few things to settle with the master of the house and his nephew.

Harven's purchase of the ship was already settled, and we would get two hundred gold dragons for it. The ship was really good, and it was also very fast. And it didn't need much crew at all.

I was concerned with another matter. Namely, finding work and new men for the squad.

It was Harven's uncle, Corden of Grey Stone, who could help with the work. He's been hanging around here for years, and he knows the latest rumours, so he can help me get a job guarding a caravan or something. I don't want to go into permanent service with anyone right now. Maybe with the start of the War of the Five Kings, but not before.

The second thing is men. Ser Brandon stayed in Sigard with his old friend Lord Mallister, and he wanted to go back to his homeland in the Vale. Glen is dead. The boys that we have recruited into our squad and the broads that Gerda trains and has begun to train in the last few days on the ship, and Daren One-Eyed have shown little progress in warriorhood so far. Although by the beginning of the canon, they should already be able to stand up for themselves and cover their comrades in arms.

Therefore, I had a question about increasing the size of the squad, so that under my command was a real force, not a motley rabble, albeit able to hold a gun properly.

There were several options for replenishing my squad:

The first one was former peasants, poor people and boys who wanted a better life. They will have to be trained, fed, trained and equipped as I need, it will take time and money, but by the time of the war for the throne they will be good warriors. The main thing is to organise a Young Fighter Course for them and put myself in their eyes. Right now, I'm respected in the squad despite my not-so-great age. But when other members of the squad come, I will not be the one who saved them from slavery or death.

Which brings up the second option. I'll take mercenaries into the squad. On the one hand it's easier, but on the other hand, if... and I'm sure that will happen, I get a man like Bronn in the squad, then the leadership in the squad and discipline will be undermined. And obedience to my commands will be less zealous if they think they're stupid or suicidal. I can't send my men to die foolishly, but things happen in life. And the mentality of mercenaries is peculiar. Therefore, although I feel and will have to take some of them in the squad in the future, but I will try to minimise their number.

The third option is hunters and former soldiers of the lords. Sometimes soldiers of lords have to leave the service for some reason and take the path of a mercenary. A clear example of this is our Varick Falcon and his situation with Walder Black. Hunters sometimes also can't feed their families, or their sons don't have enough room in the house and are forced to join the army of some lord, so lords tend to have an elite part of archers.

There is also a fourth option visible to me in this world - wildlings and mountain clans. They seek better lands, lives, and fare for their families. Even Walder Senior had a couple of Moon Mountain savages in his service for a while, and then they were killed by the stupidity of one of my older brothers. So I may still have to turn north and arrive in the Valley to replenish my squad with local "skilful".

But the option with the former prisoners is not to be dismissed. For example, we could raid slave traders or forest brigands. We could profit from them, and there's a big chance that some of the prisoners will join us in the squad. But we must think it over carefully. After all, not everything goes as we planned at first....

With these thoughts I came to Corden of Grey Stone. He was almost a carbon copy of Harven, only twenty years older, with grey whiskers and a fullness that didn't exactly make him look handsome. But he was a smart man.

- Greetings to our dear guests. How did you sleep, Ser Damian?

- Fine, at least the quarters we've been given are better than the hold of the ship we came in on.

- Wine? - He raised his cup.

- Something cool. I think I've had enough wine, I don't like to overdo it.

- That's true. - The Dornian hummed approvingly. - Sometimes a sober mind helps in many things, and sometimes it hinders you. But let us not philosophise. You've come for the sum my nephew owes you, haven't you? It's ready.

The pretty maid brought me some juice or compote, which I sipped leisurely as we talked.

- That's marvellous. - I smiled at him. - But besides that, I was wondering if you could help me with something.

- Anything I can do.

- We're looking for a caravan or some ship that needs guarding.

- Oh! Finding work for mercenaries. You have come to the right place Ser Damian. - smiled the Dornishman. - There are many merchants in Staromest who run caravans throughout Westeros, and ships to all corners of the world. I wanted to offer it to you myself, to be honest. According to my nephew, you're a good warrior and commander. So I can even tell you where to recruit men for your squad, if you're interested.

I remained silent, pondering his words, but Corden, taking it as my interest in his words, continued to speak:

- I have a son by one of my mistresses. The kid's not stupid, relatively, but the problem is that he doesn't want to be involved in the family business. He's all about the war. He wants to go travelling and fight in some mercenary unit. He's been well trained since he was a boy. Herald is fifteen years old now, and he's good with a spear, a sword, and a crossbow.

- You realise that you are sending him with an unfamiliar mercenary unit into a world where there are many dangers for young men like him.

The Dornian sighed heavily and nodded.

- Yes, but alas, he is as stubborn as a donkey. One way or another, he'll get his way; he's taken too much of that stubbornness from me. If I don't let him go, he'll run away. But at least he'll have a commander with brains, someone who cares about his subordinates. They're rare, even the lords of Westeros aren't as trustworthy as they pretend to be.

- And it doesn't bother you that my father is Walder Frey?

- Ha-ha-ha. Why should it, Ser? No, no, and no again. I certainly don't judge people by their parents. Sometimes children are too different from their parents. And Lord Frey is not a stupid man, I've seen and spoken to him a couple of times, he could still sit on a horse. And he made a good impression on me. So don't equate me with the lords of the Riverlands, I'm a Dornian! - he said proudly.

- Hmm. All right. I will take your son with me. But I warn you in advance that our journey will be dangerous, and if he wants to leave me, I will not hold him back. I don't want a blameless man with a cock and balls. In my squad, although there will be strict discipline, but there will also be a principle of goodwill. But if he stays with me, I will take care of him, as well as the rest of my subordinates and help him to become a warrior or a knight, if his heart is in it.

- Of course I agree with you. It is a good option, Ser Damian. - The merchant nodded contentedly. - I'll equip a herald as well as a knight, don't worry, and I'll find you a good job for a while. It seems that a couple of my good partners are now looking into shipping spices, silk, coffee, glass and mirrors from Staromest to Highgarden. They are generous men, and will pay well to those who will protect them now from brazen forest brigands. Soon there will be a knight's tournament in Highgarden, and many people of all walks of life will come there to trade, to show off at the tournament, to find work, or to plunder. So you must realise that some unkind people will want to engage in this dirty trade to enrich themselves. And honest traders suffer for it.

Hmm. Quite an interesting idea. In Highgarden, I could try my luck with a jousting tournament. The Tyrells are a wealthy family and I think the prize for winning any joust should be substantial. Of course it's not "good spender" Robert Baratheon, but it's enough for a mercenary to live on.

And the cohesion of the squad can be boosted by such contracts.

- I agree.

- My boy should be back from his hunt tonight, and I'll introduce you. In the meantime, please enjoy our hospitality. I think you'll have a chance to rest soon.

- Thank you, honoured Corden.

We talked about the usual topics of men of this era: hunting, guns, wine, and, of course, women.

***

Herald was a typical Dornian, as cliché as it may sound, the only difference was bright blue eyes, and everything else he inherited from his father, even a small height of only about one metre sixty. But I reckon he could grow a bit more. Besides, he seems like a tough guy. So don't worry about him being a mercenary. But to work on his sword skills, Bari strongly recommended. His mastery of the spear is another matter. Even Lari Short-handed, a mercenary with experience, a man with experience, seemingly the best spearman of our small squad admitted to me that the kid, will soon surpass him in this craft. This is encouraging.

In the meantime, after his inspection, I partly rested and partly searched for useful information.

Additional recruitment to my squad I did not conduct with a bang, but approached the matter very carefully. I was even concerned about a few fighters in the first place. I also needed to find a few maesters or at least a healer to help mend any wounds that appeared. I, for one, know a thing or two about it from my past service in hot spots. The guys who were also mercenaries seem to know how to bandage and stitch up a wound, but we could use a full-fledged healer. Where would we get one?

The Citadel of Maesters was my choice. I'm unlikely to be able to lure a full-fledged Maester into the squad, but a young apprentice who already has a link responsible for poisons and medicine is probably worth a try. And it wouldn't hurt to look for people with knowledge. So me, Varik, Lari and Tom wandered around Old Town for a few days looking for such a person.

It was Tom who managed to get on the trail of such a student. He met a student of the Citadel in a tavern and learnt a lot about him. He was tired of learning old things at the Citadel and wanted to experience and learn something new. But maesters and archmaesters are very conservative people and were not in a hurry to let him into the closed section of the Citadel. And practical training outside Staromest is rare for them. And the boy is young and hot, only twenty years old, and his soul demands wanderlust. Tom is not a wordsmith, of course, like Trotsky, but he persuaded him to go with us secretly from Staromest (that is, to escape) on a journey. Varick spent those days aimlessly, only to learn a couple of very dirty rumours about some lords with "blue" cloak colours, among them Loras Tyrell. Larry didn't find much at all, just learnt all the prices of Staromest's inns. I was a little luckier. I found two boys, one a shoemaker's apprentice and the other a thief who tried to steal a purse of money from me. I caught him, whipped him, and then, after asking him a bit about his life, decided to give him a chance as a warrior. But I warned him that if he stole without my knowledge, and Seven beware of his own, I would cut off his hands myself. He took my word for it and promised he'd rather be a thief than a warrior.

The shoemaker's apprentice was not only glad to become something other than a shoemaker in the future, but to get out from under the oppression of his stepfather. He used to beat and abuse him a lot. So there wasn't much of a problem in terms of getting them out of that place. I'd have to train them and give them a lot of precious time to learn.

Besides, I haven't really decided what path I'm going to take, have I?

No, I want to become a Grand Lord in any case, and if I am lucky, I want to take a seat in the Small Council of the future ruler of the OWLs. But I haven't decided exactly who to support with his claims.

The first option I see as acceptable is to support Jon Snow with his claim to the Iron Throne. If he doesn't join the Night's Watch with my help and the truth of his origins comes to light, and Ned Stark is alive at the time, he will most likely support his nephew with his claim to the Iron Throne. Stanis, even if he is thrice Robert's rightful heir, is not the best choice for king. He won't support Renly either. And both men will want to kill Stark's dear nephew. And he, in turn, will not be able to allow his sister's son, and in addition, the man who has a legitimate claim to the throne, bypassing other claimants, to die needlessly. An alliance between the North, the Riverlands and Targaryen loyalists is therefore likely. Even an alliance with Prostor or Dorne is possible. They've been most loyal to the Targaryens. And that loyalty could be reinforced through Jon's marriage to one of the young princesses of those Southlands. It's not so clear-cut with Dorne, though. They may side with Jon's opponents, given the backstory of his birth and the fate of Elia Martell. But then again, everything in this world is relative. And alliance or war with them is a fifty-fifty chance. The Vale is unlikely to support Jon as long as Littlefinger is running the show, so in that case it would be a good idea to remove him after Robert's death. And the most important thing is to make good friends with Jon Snow and become his brother at best. He's a valuable figure. And Varys, when he learns of Snow's origins, can support him in his claim to the throne and become a valuable ally... or enemy. But in that case, I'll try to organise an axe-bashing so that he doesn't dare to bring Young Gryff or Dany and her dragons to Westeros.

The Lannisters are a possibility, though. Joffrey is a bastard, but behind him are the Lannisters, the ones who were kings for centuries and then some of the most powerful lords in Westeros. Now House Lannister is led by Tywin Lannister, a clever bloke who I respect. If it weren't for his idiot children, who have done him and the public a disservice, he would have followed through with his plan, and quite possibly there would have been no War of the Five Kings, and the Lannisters would have first become the second House in importance in the Seven Kingdoms for a long time, and then soon depose the Baratheons and replace them on the throne. But sometimes petty grudges and troubles can ruin any great plan. That's what happened in this world with the incest between Jaime and Cersei. But overall, even in the canon, book version, they still have a great chance of winning the war. They even almost succeeded in doing so. But again, a little thing like Tyrion screwed it all up, and shot Tywin. But even without him, the Lannisters stayed afloat thanks to other equally bright heads. Literally and figuratively at the top. So the Lannisters are the second option if Jon doesn't work out. In that case, I'll probably only get the title of Great Lord of the Riverlands, no more. But I'll settle for that. I can't deal with the others. The main thing is to keep Tywin out of the way and keep him away from the parashah and the dwarves with crossbows. He's not so afraid of the rest.

Daenerys Stormborn makes me as nervous as Ned Stark. Only this one's pretty and she's not shameful to fuck. But overall, she's no better than her royal father. Only her madness is less visible. But time will pass, and Seven Heaven forbid she should ascend to the throne. All the Seven Kingdoms will howl at the way she rules.....

So, no. Only Jon Snow or the Lannisters. I don't see any other options.

I was interrupted by Ben's voice, already recovering from his brother's death.

- Ser Damien. The merchant we're to accompany on our journey to Highgarden has arrived.

- I'm coming. - I grunted, rising reluctantly from the comfortable bed. - Time to get down to business...

***

200 gems for an extra chapter.

Subscribe at patreon.com/FanFictionPremium. 

With advanced chapters, an extra chapter in your honour.