Situation in the North

Raising his arm carefully, Jon winced at the stab of pain that came along with the action. A few hours had passed since the Northern army had retaken Deepwood Motte from the Ironborn and already, the men were hard at work.

The dead were being burned, the injured being taken care of and prisoners locked away.

There weren't many of the latter left.

Those that were in a good condition were getting to work rebuilding the defences of Deepwood Motte so that they could set out soon. They couldn't afford to move slowly in this campaign, that was one of the things Greatjon Umber had stressed. Speed would be their greatest asset because if they didn't strike fast, the Ironborn could entrench themselves deeply in the North making it all but impossible to remove them without a proper army.

An army they didn't have.

"We should move south soon, leave the injured here with a few able men and have them defend Deepwood Motte." Owen Norrey suggested, and Jon frowned in thought. He appreciated that the man didn't just make decisions without checking with him, his superior officer as decreed by Robb. But at the same time Jon wished he would because Jon had no clue how to lead men in battle.

Nor did he want to, the blood of those that died in Deepwood Motte weighed more than any sword ever could.

"Aye, it's a smart idea." The Greatjon agreed and Jon was thankful that the more experienced commander was taking control. "Should use the few ships the Ironborn left behind to ferry a few hundred men across and give aid to the Mormont's. Alysane Mormont is holding them off for now, but she won't be able to hold on for much longer."

Jon looked over the map of the North, it was a grim sight to see though their taking of Deepwood Motte did make things look a little better. Even so, the vast majority of the Greyjoy fleet under the command of Victarion Greyjoy had cut through the Saltspear and down Fever River to take Moat Cailin in short order.

He had then left six thousand men in charge with defending the ruined keep and stopping any reinforcements from the south. Such as the four thousand men led by Lord Jason Mallister who had reportedly being seen passing the Twins three days ago.

However, Victarion with his remaining ten thousand men had since travelled back, taking Flint's Finger and Barrowton. The last reports they had received on him said that he was currently besieging Goldgrass.

Then there were the three thousand men led by Aeron Greyjoy currently having taken the Stony Shores. They had since pushed in further east crossing the Rills and two thousand under Dagmer Cleftjaw were pushing further inwards heading towards Torrhen's Square. Aeron himself taking the remaining one thousand men and pushing north into the Wolfswood. It was unsure what their intent was, but Jon had been advised to move south and meet them.

"Hugo Wull should lead the men across to Bear Island?" It was posed more of a question than as an order and there were a few nods of agreement, seeing this helped fill Jon with a little more confidence. "Brandon Norrey will remain here in charge of the defence of Deepwood Motte. The rest of us will march south to meet Aeron Greyjoy in the field."

The gathered clan chiefs nodded their heads and gave mutterings of, "aye." Before heading out to prepare to March.

As they did, Jon sat down rubbing his temples in frustration. 'Why did you give me command, Robb? I don't have a clue what I'm doing.' He thought, Ghost raising his head making a little noise of confusion as it twisted its heads to one side.

"Ah, don't let it get to you, lad." Greatjon said, clasping one hand on Jon's shoulder. "It's to be excepted that you're unsure of what you're doing. You spent your time learning to swing a sword and kill men, not lead them."

"I know, it's just, why did Robb give me command?"

Greatjon snorted. "Bah, I have no clue. He's a smart lad, too smart for me to figure out what goes on in that mind of his. But he trusts you and that's a difficult thing to come by in this world. 'Sides, there's no one better to defend the North than a Stark. You'll get used to it in time, just gotta give it a little time."

"Don't think I can afford to wait." Jon muttered and the Greatjon let out a chortle.

"Aye, yer right about that."

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"Halt!" Lord Mallister called, the army that had been following behind him doing as he ordered. Four thousand men of the Riverlands and five hundred men of the North, all under his command to beat back the Ironborn. Jason couldn't wait, he had a bone to pick with the Ironborn after they attempted to take his castle, Seagard in the Greyjoy Rebellion.

Despite losing the battle, the Ironborn had killed many of his men and taken many of the women as Salt Wives.

He'd avenge that loss here and now.

"Get the men into formations." He ordered to his commanders. Lord Vance quickly took command of two thousand infantrymen, forming them in the centre, Lord Darry splitting the one thousand strong cavalry contingent into two, five hundred on either flank. As for Lord Smallwood, he took command of the archers, placing them behind Lord Vance's infantry but in front of Lord Mallister's one thousand infantry reserves.

Jason's suspicions and instincts were proven correct when he saw nearly six thousand Ironborn meander across the field at a slow and steady pace. Even from here, he and his men could hear their jeering they made as they moved to meet them.

Much like he had expected, the Ironborn hadn't learned how to form proper formations nor did it seem that they had cavalry of any kind. It was more akin to a group of six thousand men marching towards them, like a group of bandits rather than an actual army. Still, despite being outnumbered, Jason didn't feel an ounce of fear.

Fierce fighters the Ironborn may be, but in a land battle they were easy to deal with for experienced commanders.

"Have Lord Smallwood, set the range." He said to one of his messengers and a few moments later, a single arrow cut through the air and landed a few hundred meters in front of Lord Vance's infantry.

There was a loud cheer from the Ironborn when they witnessed this and as they got closer, still never charging at them, Lord Mallister couldn't help but smile. They were only truly dangerous on the seas. On land, they were no different than common thugs with illusions of grandeur.

Eventually, the Ironborn reached where the arrow Lord Smallwood had shot, one Ironborn even going so far as to kick the arrow, breaking the wooden shaft. But Lord Mallister cared little for it, raising one hand into the air. The sounds of arrows slotting into place on a bow and the drawstrings being pulled back reaching his ears.

"Loose." He ordered, one echoed by Lord Smallwood and then hundreds of arrows filled the air. Each whistling as they curved high up into the sky before descending down on the large group of Ironborn.

Most wore simple leather armour with some chainmail, so it was a slaughter. The front rows of men dropped like flies, cries filling the air as arrows rained down upon them.

It seemed however that the Ironborn realised that this would be best the time to start running and they did so. Each of them releasing war cries as they charged towards the waiting Riverland soldiers.

Another two waves of arrows were fired before Lord Mallister signalled a halt.

"Signal for the two hundred men on the left to charge." A flag was raised into the air and two hundred men on the Lord Vance's left flank charged forward with a cry clashing with the Ironborn forces.

However, Lord Mallister never gave the signal for others to charge. Instead watching as the men of the Riverland fought valiantly against the hordes of Ironborn. They did well, lasting a good half an hour before their morale started to crumble, each of those fighting realising that they had not received any reinforcements. And just as Jason had expected the moment his soldier's morale started to crumble the Ironborn pounced on them.

Leaving their flank temporarily exposed.

"Signal for Lord Vance to charge with his full force in an echelon formation beginning from the left."

Another flag was raised and the remaining eighteen hundred men under Lord Vance's command charged forward with a cry. They clashed into and cut through the surprised Ironborn flanked, having wrapped round to finish off the two hundred strong Riverland soldiers.

So, when then remainder charged forwards, it caught them completely unawares. And the worst thing was, Lord Vance had used the echelon formation perfectly.

The staggered line crashed into the exposed flanks one after the other and with each man that clashed into an Ironborn they fell back into their comrade behind them and the process followed. Against a standard army, pulling off an echelon formation with this level of success was all but impossible.

But against the Ironborn, it was terrifyingly effective.

Over an hour passed, the Ironborn and Riverland forces still fighting fiercely. Despite being outnumbered, the initial manoeuvre had dealt a devastating blow to Ironborn morale and had culled quite a few of their numbers. However, the Ironborn still outnumbered the enemy by a fair margin.

"Bring the archers back behind the reserves and signal a forward march." Slowly as the formation changed, Lord Mallister leading his reserve forces in front of the archers, he then led the remainder of his army forwards. Flags raised high as to show themselves to the enemy.

Like he had expected, the Ironborn noticed him coming and a few had already begun fleeing the battlefield. And as a few started leaving, more followed and it sent a ripple effect across the battlefield till the entire Ironborn army was in full retreat.

"Signal for the cavalry to hunt them down. Have Lord Vance gather his wounded and march behind us." With that, Lord Mallister witnessed Lord Darry and his cavalry start cutting through the retreating Ironborn, chasing them back to Moat Cailin. Some attempted to disappear into the marches near Fever River, but they were cut down before they got very far.

All the while Lord Mallister and his army continued to march into Moat Cailin.