Secret of the Targaryens

The sun broke over the horizon, casting a warm golden light over Lord Ronnel's castle. Cedric stood on the battlements, watching as the last remnants of night faded away. The cool morning breeze brushed against his face, a stark contrast to the heat of the battle that lay ahead. He could still feel the adrenaline from last night's skirmish surging through him, but now he had to focus on the task at hand: interrogating the captured Targaryen soldiers.

"Morning, Cedric!" Garlan's voice boomed from behind, breaking his reverie. He joined Cedric on the battlements, his expression a mix of excitement and anxiety. "What's the plan for these prisoners?"

"We need to get as much information out of them as we can," Cedric replied, glancing down at the courtyard where a few of the Targaryen soldiers were being held. "Ronnel wants to know their movements and any potential reinforcements they might have. We need to know how to strike next."

Garlan nodded, rubbing his hands together. "I'm looking forward to some good old-fashioned interrogation. I'd like to have a few words with that smug bastard we captured."

Cedric chuckled, appreciating Garlan's enthusiasm. "Just remember, we want information, not a body count. We need them alive and talking."

As they descended from the battlements, Cedric mentally prepared himself for what was to come. He had seen plenty of scenes in movies and games depicting interrogations, but this was the first time he'd be at the helm. Would he be able to extract valuable information from these soldiers without resorting to extreme measures? It was a fine line to tread.

In the dimly lit dungeon, the atmosphere was tense. The captured soldiers sat bound to wooden chairs, their expressions a mixture of defiance and apprehension. A few of Cedric's warband members stood guard, weapons at the ready, but they knew their role was to support Cedric's approach.

Cedric stepped forward, sizing up the prisoners. The lean soldier he had fought in the skirmish last night was among them. The man met his gaze with a smirk, a flicker of arrogance in his eyes. "You think you've won, bastard? You're just delaying the inevitable."

Cedric crossed his arms, leaning closer. "And what do you think that is? You and your friends go back to telling tales of your glory while your king sits on his throne?"

"Your lord will fall, just like the rest of them," the soldier shot back defiantly.

Cedric raised an eyebrow, impressed by the man's courage but aware that bravado would get him nowhere. "Perhaps you'd like to share what you know about your lord's movements. What reinforcements are coming? What are your plans?"

"I owe you nothing," the soldier replied, gritting his teeth.

Cedric straightened, frustration bubbling beneath his calm exterior. "Then let's make this interesting." He stepped back and nodded to Garlan. "Get the bucket."

Garlan grinned, rushing to fetch a bucket of water. Cedric had read about various interrogation techniques, and while he didn't want to resort to torture, he understood that sometimes a little theatrics was necessary to break a prisoner's spirit.

"Now, this isn't torture," Cedric explained as Garlan filled the bucket. "It's merely a demonstration of your situation." He turned back to the soldier. "You can tell me what I want to know, or we can play a little game. How long can you hold your breath?"

The soldier's expression faltered, uncertainty creeping in. "You wouldn't dare."

"Try me," Cedric replied, the grin on his face not quite reaching his eyes. "This is entirely your choice."

Cedric leaned closer, watching the soldier's eyes narrow in calculation. He wasn't about to break easily, but Cedric knew he had the advantage of surprise.

"Fine," the soldier relented, his bravado cracking. "What do you want to know?"

Cedric's heart raced. "Start with your lord's plans. How many men are on their way here? What are they expecting?"

"Why should I help you?" the soldier scoffed.

"Because if you don't, you'll be splashing around in that bucket in no time," Garlan chimed in, holding the bucket aloft. "And believe me, I'll make it last."

The soldier hesitated, looking between Cedric and Garlan. "You think I'm afraid of water? You really have no idea who you're dealing with."

Cedric stepped closer, lowering his voice to a whisper. "Then let's put that to the test, shall we? Or perhaps you'd prefer to see your friends suffer?"

The soldier clenched his jaw, finally relenting. "All right, all right! There are reinforcements coming, but I don't know exactly how many."

"Good start," Cedric said, his voice encouraging. "How about details? Do they plan to strike soon?"

"Probably. The Targaryens are gathering forces across the Riverlands. They think they can crush the Baratheon rebels quickly."

"Crush? With what numbers?" Cedric pressed, sensing that he was making progress.

"A few hundred soldiers from House Velaryon are on the way. They've already sent a handful of ships along the coast," the soldier admitted, his defiance waning.

Cedric nodded, taking mental notes. This was valuable information. "And what about Lord Ronnel? What do they know about him?"

The soldier hesitated again, his expression shifting to concern. "They know he's a threat. He's gained some support from minor houses. They think he could rally more men, especially if word gets out about your little skirmish."

Cedric exchanged glances with Garlan, who was clearly pleased with the progress. They needed to know more, but time was running short.

"What's your name?" Cedric asked, his tone softening slightly.

"Harvin," the soldier replied, still wary but less combative.

"Harvin, let's make a deal. If you give us everything you know, I'll speak to Lord Ronnel about your life. You can join us in our fight against the Targaryens. What do you say?"

Harvin's eyes flickered with interest, but suspicion remained. "Why would you do that?"

"Because you have potential. You've shown courage, and I respect that," Cedric replied. "You may find a better fate with us than in a dungeon. You'll have a chance to fight for something real."

After a tense moment, Harvin nodded slowly. "Fine. I'll talk. But you'd better keep your promise."

"I will," Cedric assured him. "Let's hear it."

Harvin began to speak, detailing everything he knew about the Targaryen forces, their commanders, and their plans. Each word was a piece of the puzzle Cedric needed to confront the impending threat.

As Harvin spoke, Cedric felt a sense of purpose solidifying within him. He wasn't just leading a warband; he was building something greater. This was the beginning of a movement, and he would do everything in his power to protect those he had gathered.

Hours passed as Harvin revealed crucial details about the enemy. Cedric listened intently, taking mental notes and strategizing their next steps. He knew that the information they were gaining would shift the tides of their fight, but the stakes had never been higher.

"Thank you, Harvin," Cedric said, finally standing up. "You've given us valuable insight."

Harvin nodded, looking both relieved and uncertain. "I want to see what you can do. If you truly believe in this fight, I'll follow you."

"Then let's make sure you have the chance to do just that," Cedric replied, a smile creeping onto his face.

As Cedric turned to leave, he felt a sense of camaraderie growing among his warband. They had gone from mere fighters to a cohesive unit, bound together by a shared purpose. With Harvin's knowledge, they would be ready to face the Targaryens head-on.

"Cedric!" Garlan called, catching up with him. "That was impressive. You really had him talking!"

"It's about building trust," Cedric said, his mind racing with possibilities. "If we want to win this war, we need to convince them that we're a force to be reckoned with."

"What's next?" Garlan asked, eager to continue the momentum.

"We prepare for the next battle," Cedric replied. "We'll need to gather more intel and strengthen our position before the Targaryens can regroup."

Garlan's eyes lit up with excitement. "Count me in. Let's show those bastards what we're made of!"

As they exited the dungeon, Cedric felt a surge of determination. They were no longer just a warband; they were becoming a force for change in Westeros, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead. The game had changed, and Cedric was ready to play it to win.