1.18 - Aelyx

Aelyx - 16​

"I can't believe we are really doing this." Said Daeron, his eyes wide as he assembled the ships laid out below us.

"Having second thoughts" I teased.

"Not at all" he scoffed. "It's just, that it finally hit me this morning, that it was real. That tomorrow, the winds and tides willing, I will be on a ship headed towards war."

"Really?" Laughed Rupert. "You just figured it out this morning. The literal moons of preparation didn't tip you off?"

Daeron glared at Pyne. "You know damn well what I mean. There's a difference between calculating the number of barrels of salt pork needed per dozen men and actually seeing the fleet assembled."

"I know what you mean." I cut in before the argument could escalate. "I've known where this all was headed since that first meeting with Pahrinar and Nahaenor, but standing here, preparing to embark is a very different feeling."

"I guess, I am a little nervous," Rupert admitted. "But, I'm mostly excited. When I was little, I told everyone that as soon as I was old enough, I would find a knight to squire for and join the Rogue Prince in the Stepstones. But I was only three and ten when your father left the islands. I spent the next six years cursing my fate, and then I heard that you were looking for volunteers to fight the Triarchy on their own soil and I knew this was my chance to make a name for myself, to be more than the third son of a minor lord."

I nodded in acknowledgment. I had heard those words before, both from the two men standing on either side of me and from the many others who had rallied to my call over the past four moons. When I had begun putting out feelers, I had been unsure how many people would actually be willing to follow me to Essos and then onto the Stepstones. Yes, I was Targaryen and a dragon rider, but I was also a boy of five and ten, and many grown men would balk at taking orders from one so young, especially if they weren't their hereditary liege. In the end, I was partially correct. The forces that I had assembled on Driftmark definitely skewed towards the younger side, with most being in their late teens or early twenties. While I had initially only intended on raising a body of a hundred men, the camp behind me contained nearly thrice that number.

My little army was composed primarily of Crownlanders from the environs of Blackwater Bay and was made almost entirely of infantry. I had under my command one hundred and fifty footmen armed with a variety of polearms, they were joined by a further seventy archers. In addition, I had recruited fifty-three young scions from various noble and knightly families. These men were primarily younger sons, nephews, and cousins. People who had very little chance of ever inheriting. Their choice was simple, spend their life in service to the main line or seek their fortune elsewhere. They formed the core of my command, capable of serving as both a small cavalry force or dismounting to fight as heavy infantry. In addition, from their number, I had elevated several men to serve as my lieutenants, most notably Rupert Pyne and Daeron Velaryon who were my second and third in command respectively.

"Come on. We've spent enough time enjoying the view. We need to get back to camp, we have a lot to do before we set sail."

My two compatriots nodded and we turned to trek down the opposite side of the hill into the valley where were encamped. As we entered the neat rows of tents the men of the company stepped aside, tugging their forelocks in respect. Before we reached the center of the camp Daeron peeled off and headed toward the makeshift stable.

"I am going to head back down to the docks and make sure everything is still going smoothly." He announced.

"All right, we'll see you later tonight," I responded, which he acknowledged with a wave as he departed. I had put Daeron in charge of the actual process of loading supplies and men, due to both his familiarity with naval matters and because the dockworkers would be naturally reassured by the presence of a member of their ruling house. His job was mainly to troubleshoot any issues that may arise, whether it was a problem with the actual cargo, or preventing clashes between the locals and my sellswords.

As soon as he was gone, I turned to Rupert. "All right, it's time to start breaking down the camp. I want everything but the basics loaded up tonight, so we can board the men at first light tomorrow morning."

Rupert nodded. He knew his responsibilities but it was always nice to verbalize them. "I will instruct the serjeants to have their men pile everything non-essential at the base of the hill." He paused. "Does non-essential include cookery."

"No, Lord Corlys has offered to send food up from the castle for supper tonight, but we will still need warm it. Beyond that, the men need carry only their pack role and personal weapons. Oh, and make sure everyone's tent gets taken down. We are all sleeping under the stars tonight. If any of the highborn give you trouble remind them that unless I am standing next to you, you speak with my voice."

There were certainly benefits to commanding a semi-professional force such as this one, as opposed to the retinue-of-retinue armies that were the norm across Westeros. Every one of my men had sworn directly to me upon joining, as well as signing the Articles of the Company. The articles governed everything from loot sharing, to chain of command, to discipline and punishment. While most of the men were admittedly illiterate, the document had been read to each of them before they marked it with their name or an x. I still, of course, had to balance the personalities of the high command and ensure morale remained high among the men, lest I run into problems with mutiny or desertion. But I did not have to worry about one of my lords upping stakes and leaving with all his men if we had a falling out, or any of the dozens of other problems that arose when you were forced to rely on troops who are sworn to a vassal rather than the commander of the army.

Of course, there was a very good reason why the Great Lords of Westeros relied on their vassals for soldiers, maintaining a professional standing force was horrendously expensive. I had known that intellectually, there was, after all, a reason that the rise of professional armies in Europe occurred in tandem with the development of modern bureaucracy and financial institutions. But knowing and seeing the absolute money pit even a small force like mine was proving to be, made me much more understanding of why the commanders of Free Companies tended to stir up conflict in times of peace, they had to if they wanted to keep their business solvent. Luckily, I had been able to secure a loan from Lord Corlys with a very generous repayment schedule, and a private understanding that I would not be held to it if the expedition turned into a disaster. In addition, he had also agreed to provide land for camping, as well as veterans to assist in training, and ships for transport at no extra expense beyond the promise of low tolls for Velaryon ships if I retook the Stepstones. Lord Corlys would not be picking up my tab for the entire campaign though. As part of my negotiations, Pentos had included a provision wherein, they would pay the wages of any troops I brought with me.

Over the next several hours I watched dispassionately as the camp was disassembled. Everything that the soldiers wouldn't need tonight was piled up in designated areas before being loaded into carts and carried down to the docks. Each unit's equipment was supposed to be transported on the same ship as said unit, but I had a feeling there would be a good deal of chaos once we disembarked in Pentos. As the sun began the set the day's frantic activity came to an end and the men huddled around campfires. Soon promised foodstuffs arrived from High Tide and after heating it the men fell on their supper with gusto, well aware it would be their last hot meal until we made landfall.

When the men had settled in for their night in the open air, I took the opportunity to walk the perimeter of the camp. I chatted briefly with the men on sentry duty, there was no danger of attack on Driftmark, but it was good to get into the habit of keeping proper watch. I retired to my bedroll shortly before midnight. Eventually, the exhaustion of the past week of preparation overwhelmed the knot of anxiety in my stomach and I drifted off to sleep.

End Part One: The Rogue's Bastard​