Chapter 13

Ruinstone

Stepstones

Early 260 AC

We had the drop on them. They didn't see us coming. I don't think they even knew we were coming.

There had been ten of them and seven of us. Not exactly good odds, but a good ambush always has the chance of bringing victory to a numerically inferior attacker and I supposed this was good an ambush as any.

That, and Barristan fucking Selmy.

Shouldn't forget the Blackfish himself, Brynden Tully. Barristan had killed two men in what had seemed like the blink of an eye whilst Brynden had taken on the sergeant of this particular patrol group who had been able to react quickly and cut down one of our men.

Their little duel had been fought furiously at a pace that was hard to keep up with. In other words, the sergeant was at a level of skill with a blade in hand that would have seen me be a dead man, but Brynden had been able to kill the sergeant. A Tyroshi, judging by the ridiculous colors of his hair and beard.

Thankfully, my opponent was still taken by surprise when I ran my sword through him.

A bit of sick flowed upwards from my stomach but I was able to quell it. The man hadn't been my first kill, but it was still difficult coming to terms that I had taken a man's life. Again.

As it turned out, plotting someone's death was a far more detached action than actually killing someone with your bare hands. Less emotional attachment to the act and thus spared from all the rush of emotions that are released by the brain.

Soft feet hit the ground beside me, "Are you alright, my prince?"

I turned and smiled at the young lordling that had acquired after my health, "I'm fine, ser."

The lordling laughed some, "I'm no ser, my prince. Was never knighted nor squired." He tipped his head slightly, "Was just worried about His Highness, you seemed a little green."

Hopefully, a little less green from my first kill. I smiled as best as I could, "Probably the light playing tricks on your eyes, lord..." I trailed off for a name. I am ashamed to say that I did not take it upon me to learn all the names of the squad that I had been placed in.

Something I felt rather ashamed about, but then again, Ser Barristan or Brynden didn't really leave much room for chatter in the group. We had been scouting and scouting required stealth, and talking sort of ruined the illusion of stealth, with the noise and everything.

"Lord Niall Baelish of the Fingers, my prince."

I tried to think or recall if I've ever heard of a place called the Fingers. Then my geography lessons by Maester Gyldayn rushed into my head, "Of the Vale?"

"The same." Niall replied with a nod of the head, "Small, but I can hardly call any other place home."

I smiled, "Now you've made me curious. I should come visit some time."

The lordling blustered and his face took on a slight tint of pink. I raised an eyebrow at his reaction, "Clearly not, your grace. I doubt my humble abode is worthy enough to host royalty."

"Now, now, I can be the only judge of that. From what I have learned, most people don't think much of their own homes. It takes a fresh perspective to actually appreciate one's home."

Niall swallowed some, "Yes...Yes I suppose." He said weakly before he bit out a quick bow, "If you excuse me, my prince." He finished before quickly vacating himself and making his way towards a couple of men-at-arms.

Huh, what a strange man. I watched him for a bit and shrugged my shoulders before making my way towards Ser Barristan and a young Brynden Tully.

Fun fact, I was older than Brynden Tully and the son of a bitch wasn't even a knight yet and he was already making waves among the soldiery and knights. Apparently, when we had our first major battle against the vanguard of the Nine's army, he had killed some rather important looking people and captured other important looking people.

Brynden Tully, ladies and gentleman. Kicking ass and taking names.

...Did he already have the Blackfish nickname or was that a later addition?

I wonder how Hoster would feel if I stole that away from him. I had already stolen the Ninepenny thing away from Duncan and nothing drastic had happened and it seemed as if the universe was fine with me taking the naming rights to popular characters of the world that I now inhabited.

"...How many does this make now?" I overheard Brynden asking as he looked at a roughly drawn map. It wasn't accurate. It was very rare to find an accurate map of the Stepstones unless they belonged to pirates.

"Too many to count." Ser Barristan's voice was firm and iron for one so young. He spoke as if he was a man double the age of his tender twenty-two years of life, "They are getting bolder."

The Blackfish who was not yet the Blackfish rubbed at a growing red hairs underneath his chin, "It wouldn't be too much of an assumption that they are trying to get a handle on our numbers. Preparing for an attack."

"Perhaps..." The young knight said slowly, "But we can not jump to assumptions so quickly. For all we know, it might just have been our luck to run into three patrols in such a quick succession."

I decided to stop eavesdropping and make myself known, "Or perhaps they are very regimented and trained when it comes to their patrols and scouting."

The duo that I had decided to coin as the Boldfish turned their heads to face me. They both inclined their heads into a respectful bow, "Prince Aerys." They said at the same time on an unspoken signal.

I sighed, "I thought by now we would have stopped with the bowing and the 'Prince' title. I would much prefer it if you didn't get yourselves killed simply because of propriety."

"No-ones trying to kill us at the moment, Prince Aerys." Brynden remarked glibly. Well, I suppose that was true, "And no one is stupid enough to follow protocol in the middle of a battle. If so, you more than deserve to die for that form of stupidity."

Ser Barristan raised an eyebrow at the statement from the younger man, but that was all he did.

Oh yeah, I had completely forgotten that Brynden happened to be one tough son of a bitch that was rather outspoken and didn't seem to particularly give a single flying fish about what others thought about the things he says or how he says it.

I think I was going to like this guy. I took out my notebook from my trouser pocket to make a note that when I come into power, to give him some sort of position. Maybe Commander of the City Watch after I was done reforming it.

Wait, wasn't he gay or something? He was good enough with a sword already, so maybe I could add him to the Kingsguard? After I was done reforming it of course.

So many ideas, so little time and by the looks of things, I was running out of space in my notebook as well. I pocketed the notebook and turned my attention back to the deadly men in front of me that had been waiting patiently for me to scribble down whatever I had been scribbling down in my notebook from their perspective.

Hm, I now only realise how rude that habit of mine could be seen from an outside viewer. Heh, fuck em, I was a prince.

"So Nine might be preparing to make an attack on us?" I said, getting the conversation going again from where it had been left off.

"Perhaps," Ser Barristan said once more with a slight shrug of his shoulders, "Perhaps not. But first, we have to report back to Lord Ormund."

I nodded and turned my head towards the fallen king's man that had come all this way only to die at the blade of a random sellsword from Essos, "What about him?" In the week long patrol, we had engaged in combat three times and both of them ambushes when the enemy patrol didn't know what was hitting them and we hadn't lost a single person, even to injury.

Until now that was.

"We'll dig a grave for him and say the Seven rites." Brynden grunted out with a nod, "Best we do it quick though. We don't want to be here any longer than we need to. We are running out of daylight."

He could have at least tried to seem like he cared a little bit more, but whatever. Brynden was a deadly son of a bitch, but he also happened to be something of a jerkass.