Chapter Eighty Three

Eleventh day, Eighth Moon, 260 AC (+9 days)

Ryden POV

Arthur and I sat comfortably around the small fire, enjoying the first night of clear skies in days. We had been lucky during the battle that the weather had been good. Since then, for over a week, it had rained almost non-stop, making Anchorage a miserable place.

Dry wood was scarce, so our fire was more for light than warmth.

"The reinforcements arrived safely, Ryden, and are settled with the rest of our men," said Arthur.

"Good, good. That's good."

"They were asking after you."

"Ah, well. I was a bit busy elsewhere."

"It is important to make sure that your tent is in good repair," replied Arthur, with a bit of heat in his voice.

I shifted uncomfortably and refocused on the fire. "We need to be ready for the next part of the campaign."

"You need to take command again, Ryden. For your sake, if nothing else. You need to confront your issues; struggle against them; overcome them."

"The prestige of riding with the knights far outweighs what can be done among the archers and on foot."

"I can deal with that," he said, waving away my objection. "What we need is you, the heir, to be leading our men."

"Dad set everything up, so we don't have to."

Arthur snorted. "Dad means well, but he doesn't understand. The heir needs to be strong; to be a leader. We need you to lead the men, not hide in the mass of cavalry under the charge of another."

"We can be something new then – we already are. Our House won't be traditional, but we will be a force to be reckoned anyway."

"That only does so much – you know it does."

"It doesn't matter!" I roared. I bit my lip in an effort to calm myself. In a lower voice, I continued, "This war is a once in a lifetime matter. Once in a hundred years even. Even if I led again, it doesn't matter. There won't be another situation like this – especially one where I led."

"And you think that's the best way to honor Donovar? To give up?"

I flinched. "It's-"

"It is," retorted Arthur.

We fell silent as we both stared into the fire. How could I lead again? How could I trust myself? How could others trust me? Even if Arthur wasn't there, the same situation could happen again – I grew up with most of these men. How could I just stand back and let them get killed? It sat poorly with me, even with my training.

I sighed. Donovar wouldn't want me to give up. He would want me to keep pushing forward, being better one step at a time.

I raised my horn of beer. "To Donovar," I said.

"To Donovar," echoed Arthur, looking relieved.

We lapsed back into silence for a few minutes before the sound of a group of men broke us from our reverie.

Rickard Stark emerged from the dark beyond the fire, accompanied by a few guards. "Do you mind if I join you?" he asked.

I nodded, indicated an empty stump across from me.

He sat down and said to his men, "Go join Ragnar's men for a while." To us, he said, "My thanks." Once his men had left, he continued, "If you don't mind me saying, Ryden, you seemed distracted at the meeting this morning."

I grimaced. "Apologies. My – my head wasn't quite on straight, but I'm better now."

Rickard shared a glance with Arthur, and said, "Good; I was concerned. Have you told Arthur what is happening yet?"

"Err, no. I haven't had the chance yet."

"Would you mind if I did?" I nodded, and he continued, "Now that all of the reinforcements have arrived, the war is being split into two once more. The grand meeting on the morrow will get all the details, but one party, under Lord Baratheon, will begin the siege of Tyrosh in a moon's time. The other party, under Prince Duncan, will land in the Disputed Lands and bring the fight to the damned Blackfyres."

Arthur looked intrigued. "I had figured something like that might happen – splitting into two has worked well for us so far. Will the same regions be going under the same leader as the Stepstone campaign?"

"Aye, the North will be going with Lord Baratheon."

"Speaking of," said Arthur. "I haven't had the chance to say it before, but I'm sorry to hear about your father."

Rickard sighed. "My thanks, Arthur. I think the heat and rain of the south really made things worse – I know it does for me. Still, I think he will recover once he is back in the North."

"The air can be so thick here sometimes," I commiserated.

"Aye, I look forward to returning North. I am happy to bring honor to my House, but I think I'll want any visits to the south to have less running in the heat."

Arthur and I chuckled. "Say," said Arthur. "I noticed something the other day, where are all the Bolton men? I haven't seen much of them since that first island."

Rickard shrugged. "My father has many Bolton men helping to hold the islands we have already taken – along with a good portion of Stark men."

"Is Lord Bolton hoping to get an island for his family?"

Rickard laughed heartily. "No, no. He would never get such a thing. I'll admit I don't know how my father got such an agreement from Lord Bolton, only that he did."

"What of Prince Aerys?" asked Arthur. "Where will he be?"

"He will be with Lord Baratheon," replied Rickard, cautiously.

"As long as I'm nowhere near him," said Arthur, bitingly.

Rickard looked uncomfortable while I held in my sigh. For all that Arthur had been admonishing Dad's views, he was quick to echo his mannerisms. Not that I had been much better, but Lord Theomore had stressed the importance of politics and civility when having conversations.

"I'm sure the Prince will learn much from Lord Baratheon," said Rickard.

Translation: Prince Aerys messed up and is being kept on a short leash.

I steered the conversation into a new direction, "Well, I shall be leading my House's men under Lord Baratheon and yourself then, Rickard."

Rickard looked at me, gratefully. "Excellent! Arthur, will you be staying with the knights? If so, you will be heading to the Disputed Lands."

"I will be, Rickard."

"Well, the broad-strokes of the plan for Prince Duncan is to carve out a territory from the Tyroshi lands. Lys has already gone on the offensive and been successful in taking some of the interior of the Disputed Lands back while the Nine were busy taking Myr, but those gains are likely to be taken back now that the Nine can focus on Lys and us."

"What's the situation in Myr?"

"The Nine have installed their own cronies and satisfied Nine Eyes and the Jolly Fellows' demand for Myr to fall under their power. The city is decimated after the sack, but the Blackfyres aren't concerned by that. Lys has seen a few coup attempts and arsons and other treachery as the Nine try to undermine their enemies."

"Have there been any issues in Westeros?" I asked worriedly.

"Nothing of the like, at least so far."

"Huh, what will happen with the land that we will be capturing in the Disputed Lands?" asked Arthur.

Rickard stretched before answering, "The King made promises to not keep any land, so I imagine we would give it to Myr or Lys – try and balance it, so none have the edge over the other. Best to keep them busy in the Disputed Lands, rather than looking toward the Stepstones."

"Pity," said Arthur, "I hate to give the land back to slavers."

"Aye," said Rickard tiredly. "But the King promised, and we must obey."

A sudden thought popped into my head. "The King never made any promises what to do with the land other than to not keep it, correct?"

Rickard looked amused. "Aye. What idea do you have now? Knowing your father, it's something outlandish but smart nevertheless."

I chuckled. "Perhaps it is. What if we were to help set up a new country – one without slaves."

Rickard stroked his chin in thought. "They would be friendly to us – we helped them set up, and we are their closest non-slaving neighbors."

Arthur grimaced. "How friendly do you think they'll be to a conquering army, for that is what we are."

"It would require some delicate political maneuvering, but it may be possible. I shall bring this up to Lord Baratheon and Prince Duncan on the morrow, before the grand meeting."

Arthur's head jerked up excitedly. "Wait! What if we don't have to be seen as conquerors? At least not completely?"

"How do you mean?"

"The Rangers, as my father set up, are meant to be independent and mobile. A force of them, or men at least equipped like them, could roam the countryside away from the main body of the army. They would be attacking supplies for the enemy army, delaying and obstructing their efforts, while also freeing slaves in the countryside - attacking the manors and large farmsteads."

"Like some sort of freedom fighters?" I asked.

"Something like that, but it would also be indirect warfare. Attack the enemy where they are not so that when our armies clash, they are hungry and tired, and we walk right over them!"

"Indirect warfare, eh?" mused Rickard.

I could see what Arthur was going for. I could also see why. Being in charge of, or at the very least suggesting, a large political undertaking would be a large boon for our House – especially if it worked.

"That could work!" I said enthusiastically. "The King's army will likely be outnumbered, even if we have the greater skill, so punishing the enemy's need for massive amounts of supplies is genius!"

Rickard was starting to look very interested. "I think I can see it. A roving band of men freeing slaves and burning supplies! Something fit for the legends!"

Arthur nodded eagerly. "Yes! It would be invaluable for the war!"

"Do you think we should mention this to Prince Duncan and Lord Baratheon?" I asked innocently.

Rickard didn't notice. "Aye, we should! On the morrow, just after daybreak, I had already planned to meet with them – you should both accompany me!"

I looked at Arthur, who was positively elated.

We had convinced one person - two to go.