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A Fourth Lion

Reincarnated into the twin brother of Tyrion, watch as Cerion Lannister deals with plots, schemes and war. Will he live or die in this game of thrones? ——————————————————————————— It’s my first time writing so dialogue may seem a bit awkward. Also I’m just writing for fun because I’m bored of reading. Updates may be inconsistent. I would also like to add that Cerion will not be a dwarf. I would also like to point out that a character can only be as smart as the author. [The cover art isn’t mine]

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45 Chs

Siege Of The Ten Towers

"Everything is ready, M'lord. The boys have already covered everything in pitch and resin, say the word and they'll light it on fire." The head sapper told me, dirt and grime covering his face.

"Good, start right away." I gave the order, the sapper ran off towards the column to go start the fire. The column was a long trench that led to the tunnel that the sappers were mining, the column was covered by a triangle shaped roof made of wood, reinforced with iron to withstand the rocks thrown from the castle walls, the gaps in the wood was sealed with a non-flammable adhesive to stop boiling water and pitch as well as an extra layer of dried animal hides. It allowed perfect cover for my men to get right up to the walls without getting injured or killed.

"Lord Crakehall, prepare your men." I tell him, Roland Crakehall nods his head and goes off to arrange his men. Roland and his men would be the vanguard, first through the breach in the castle walls.

It has been four days since we've besieged the Ten Towers, honestly, it felt like a lot more but Tygett insisted that most sieges took weeks and months and that we were making rapid progress. I haven't received word of how the war was going on the other islands, ravens were shot down by both sides in order to break communication. I most likely wont hear anything until the supplies came from Seagard in the next few days.

Most of us were in formation, waiting for the signal to charge. It might've been due to the fact that 15,000 men were standing in an open filed that there was a higher presence of Ironborn on top of the walls. I had left 2,500 behind as the rearguard to protect the camp. The other 500 men were at the other side of the castle, surrounding the sally port and ambushing anyone who came through it. My agents had managed to torture the information out of the remaining survivors from the attack on our encampment three days ago. I had checked whether it could be of any use during the siege, but if anything, it was more secure than the castles main gate. The best thing they could do was prevent anyone from escaping, specifically anyone important.

"I would prefer that you didn't insist on fighting, Cerion." Orton said, fully covered in armour, I'm sure that he must've made quite the sight from the walls.

"Well, I would prefer that I do. Besides, I have nothing to worry about with you and the rest of the Lionguards by my side, do I?" I ask out loud to the men in question, who cheer in return.

"Anyway." I say, "I can handle myself just fine, if anything, you should be worrying about Monty." Monty scowls and rolls his eyes at me, before pointing towards the castle, "Look!"

We looked to where he was pointing to see large plumes of smoke rising into the air, obviously coming from the mine. Whilst sapping, the sappers would use wooden beams and planks to make sure it didn't collapse, when they were under the wall, they would cover the wood in highly flammable substances and set it on fire, causing the wood to weaken and the tunnel to collapse, leading to the wall to collapse as well. The plan was to have Lord Crakehall and his men use the column to protect his men whilst they charge at the walls and climb over the rubble and enter the castle.

The wooden supports must've started to break because the section of the wall that the mine was under was starting to sink, little by little, and it didn't take long before the whole thing collapsed underneath itself, eliciting a booming, rumbling sound.

Seeing that it was time, I gave the order for Roland and his men to charge. Due to the fact that the wall collapsed into the mine, the amount of rubble left for Roland and his men to scale was small, meaning that it would take less time for them to set foot in the castle grounds and that the Ironborn would not have the chance to resist them at the breach.

As soon as Roland has entered the walls, I signalled for Tygett to follow after him with a force of almost 4,000 men. This regiment was mostly comprised of heavy infantry and would be the backbone of the Crakehall force, they were assigned the duty of holding the breach and drawing as much of the Ironborn's attention that they could.

Even from back here I could see that the Ironborn were in total disarray, running around atop the ramparts. The artillery were still firing as well, focusing on the areas away from the hole in the wall, killing and maiming even more than before.

"When should we signal them to climb?" Monty asks, looking towards the far right of the curtain wall, the opposite end from where the breach was.

"Not yet." I replied, "There are still too many on that side of the wall, give it a few minutes and if they haven't moved, then we'll just redirect the artillery to fire on them."

Fortunately, it would seem that Lord Crakehall and my uncle were too much for the Ironborn to handle, causing them to focus their sole attention on the breach. I nod my head at Monty, who lifts up one of the Lannister banners and waves it before dropping it on the floor.

This was the signal that would lead to our victory in this siege. In the cover of night, I had several dozen men use the column to get close to the wall and then walking along the base of it to get to the other side unseen. Armed with hooks and climbing spikes, they were tasked with climbing the walls and raising the portcullis in the gatehouse, allowing entry for the rest of the army. It wouldn't be easy, not with the amount of Ironborn on the walls, but, between the pressure from the breach, artillery fire and the element of surprise, it was possible.

"Get ready!" I shout to the men around me, mounting my horse. You could say that this is unnecessary, trying to open the gate when we could've just all swarmed through the breach. However, I do not know what the inside of the castle grounds look like, nor do I know how many defenders there are. From what it looks like, the breach has turned into a slugfest between us and the Ironborn; stuck in a narrow gap where numbers don't have the advantage. Whilst all their attention is focused on the breach, the rest of us can charge into the enemy from behind, essentially winning the battle. Lord Crakehall could be repelled from the breach, leading to the siege to last longer and be even bloodier, but if all of us are inside the castle walls then there is not much they can do.

We waited for several minutes for any sign that they were successful, and when I heard the sound of creaking metal and the sight of the portcullis rising, I unsheathe my sword, hold it up in the air and shout, "CHARGE!"

Everyone rushed to the gatehouse, trying to get through to the other side. The cavalry were in front, far ahead of everyone else and were the first to pass through the gate, my Lionguards and I were among them. The rest of the men were behind us, whilst the cavalry was going to flank the Ironborn, they were too slow and had been delegated the task of taking over the walls and gatehouse.

The area inside the grounds of the Ten Towers was like a field, buildings were sparse and laid huddled up against the walls. The whole wedge of cavalry turned towards the direction of the breach in a full out gallop, preparing to charge into the back of the Ironborn. The fighting looks fierce, even from here, the Ironborn had the breach fully surrounded, holding the men under the command of Lord Crakehall and my uncle at bay.

As we were getting closer, the rumble and sounds of the horses reached the Ironborn, causing them to panic and try to form some sort of defence against our charge. Obviously, turning around to face us made them vulnerable to the men they were just fighting, who sought to use the opportunity to the best of their ability.

We had slammed into the Ironborn, some had tried to fight back but were crushed underneath the sheer number of horses. A charge like this was an instant demoraliser, many people even dropped their weapons and stopped fighting all together when we collided, they knew the battle was lost.

I have always expressed the importance of discipline when training my men, hence why most who surrendered survived. Rape was something I abhorred and made punishable by death on this campaign, something not a lot of people were happy about. The killing of innocents and surrendered enemies was circumstantial for me, I would do it if necessary but it was best to avoid.

We carved our way throughout the enemy, hacking and slashing. My Lionguards were at the forefront of the onslaught, gliding over the Ironborn like a wave, oh the irony. I didn't get the chance to swing my sword at someone, my guards were almost too good at their job and despite how much I would've liked to be at the front of the charge, I knew that they would never let me unless specifically ordered.

It would seem that the feeling of hopelessness had spread rapidly amongst the enemy, once one noticed that the other had dropped their weapon, he was quick to follow. We had only been fighting for more than a minute before every Ironborn soldier had either surrendered or was dead.

We had everyone who had surrendered rounded up, there must've been around 1,000 men at most, though it was most likely less than that. I dismounted my horse, though still cautious, after all there was small-scale fighting on top of the walls and I was sure that there still was defenders within the castle itself.

"My Lord" Roland Crakehall says as he nears me, two men behind him supporting a third one. He looked ragged, covered in blood and dirt as well as sporting a few cuts along his face.

The Lord of Crakehall moved out of the way and gestured to the third man, who was unceremoniously dropped to the floor. The man had longish brown hair and eyes of the same colour as well as a neatly-trimmed beard, his armour bore the scythe of Harlaw, if anything he looked to be in an even worse state than Roland. "May I present you with Lord Rodrik Harlaw."