Chapter 3

The united royal army predictably faced a problem that prevented the war from ending quickly. That problem was the Bay of Iron Men, which had to be crossed before the lands of the rebellious lords could be taken. The ravens brought news of the victory of the royal fleet, led by Stannis Baratheon, over the fleet of the islanders and its near total defeat. The only thing left to do was to wait for the Royal Navy to join forces with the Redwyne fleet and arrive at the Sunset Sea to ferry troops and end the war.

The soldiers predictably "suffered from idleness" as there was little to do. Lords tried to maintain discipline and order in their troops, which was quite problematic. As it turned out, there were many disagreements among the armies of different kingdoms, both cultural and religious. Even more: the inhabitants of the extreme southern regions considered the northerners to be savages and barbarians, and they did not think much of the inhabitants of other kingdoms either. Conflicts of all sorts broke out here and there, but luckily nothing serious happened.

John spent most of his time in the Northmen's camp, where they tried to maintain relative order. The fewer encounters between soldiers from different regions, the less conflicts would arise. The bastard was walking towards the wagon tents, he had just managed to get some marsh mint and now he had everything he needed. Somewhere off to the side he could hear the moans of another whore, a little farther away was the loud laughter of the soldiers. The boy turned his head toward a centuries-old oak tree that grew on one of the hills outside the camp.

Five tied ropes dangled from its branches, with a man dangling from the loops at the ends of each rope: four deserters and a rapist. The presence of the latter was not new to the war, and John only concluded that it was not the first time he had committed this crime. He could find no other explanation for execution by hanging instead of public flogging or scraping, though there were rumors that the king hated rapists. Perhaps that was the reason.

...

Snow was standing by a small fire, stirring a brew in a small cauldron. He had already added firkin, some marsh mint, and wormwood. Only honey and some herbs remained, so that the brew would not be repulsive. A young, blonde-haired girl hovered impatiently beside John. No older than Daisy Mormont, she was sniffing at the brew, her face expressing a degree of surprise.

- Making soup, little wolf? - came the question. Snow turned to see who was speaking; she appeared to be the same girl from Bear Island.

- Something like that.

- Smells good, can I have a taste? - Dacey gave the bastard a charming smile and pulled a spoon out of her boot and reached for the brew, for which she received a slap on the arm.

- Only if you want to die of poisoning or lose the opportunity to give your future husband an heir.

- If you don't want to share, just say so," Dacey said a little resentfully, rubbing her bruised arm defiantly.

- What's the latest news?

- My cousin has returned from the council of war. Prince Stannis will be arriving soon, the fat flower lord boasts of bringing more heavy knights than all the others combined. All in all, nothing new.

- I'm sure the heavy cavalry will be very useful during a boarding party or storming a castle," Jon snorted.

- Who did you turn out to be so clever?

- A she-wolf.

- What kind of wolf? - Daisy didn't understand.

- My father won't tell me anything about my mother, no matter how many times I ask. And since you're from a bear, I'll be from a she-wolf, or a lute-wolf.

- The bear is stronger than the wolf," the girl began another game of witticisms.

- I don't deny it, but the wolf is better.

- And why is that?

- He can howl.

- And bears growl.

- The wolf is better, he can both howl and growl, - the girl looked at her friend skeptically.

- R-r-r," John growled, imitating a wolf, and then howled like one. Dacey laughed and howled too, playing along. - Hmmm, this bear can howl too, that's interesting.

- Fuck you," Dacey playfully kicked John.

Ten minutes later the brew was finished. Snow poured it into a jug and gave the waiting girl instructions.

- Wait until it cools completely and leave it to steep for two hours, only then you can drink it, - the girl listened and took the jug, then left in the direction of the whores' tents.

- What did you brew her?

- Something I hope I never have to brew for my friends and family.

Alchemy was not as well developed on this world as it was on Nirn. Only the simplest brews were freely available, the level of an illiterate village witch, though the records of wildfire were impressive. At least Westeros had succeeded in that. There were also some new unfamiliar plants whose effects had yet to be studied, but that was for the future.

- All right, wolf cub. I have some free time and I can play with you. Where shall we go?

- To the center of camp. I need to talk to my father," John smiled and began to climb on Dacey's back as soon as his arms were around her neck, they were on their way.

***

The North Keeper's tent, ten minutes later.

- Father," John said as he entered the tent, Dacy following. - I think I'll come back later," he added when he saw that Lord Stark was not alone. Some of the northern lords were in the tent with him, along with a couple other people Jon didn't know.

- 'It's all right, Jon, you can come in.

- Is this your heir? - came a gruff voice from a smiling black-haired man who looked like a giant in his armor.

- No, Robert. This is John, my bastard," he introduced his son to the king.

- Your Grace," John bowed, realizing who was before him.

- John, this is my old friend Robert - the king...

- Yes, let's list all my titles," laughed the king. - We'll sit here until tomorrow morning. To hell with formalities, we're at war.

- And this is Jon Arryn, Lord of the Eagle's Nest; I was raised by him and Robert.

Snow stared at the man without averting his gaze. Before him stood a gray-haired but still quite stout man. His skin was wrinkled, and strangely enough, he had never begun to go bald, despite his advanced age. There were several small warts on his right cheek, and there were bags under his blue eyes, either from overwork or lack of sleep.

- Why are you staring at me so intently, boy? - Lord Arryn asked him.

- I wonder. I was named after you," Jon replied, embarrassing the old lord for a moment, and someone in the room chuckled into his palm, the king in turn bursting into loud laughter throughout the tent.

- It's been a long time since I've seen you embarrassed, old man," the king commented. Lord Arryn smiled.

- When Ned returned to King's Landing with the child and introduced him as his bastard, named after me, I wasn't sure how to take it. As an insult or as a show of affection and gratitude," Lord Stark was embarrassed, mumbling something indistinctly, and the king laughed again.

- Is there something you wanted to talk about, Jon? - Ned turned to him.

- Yes, father. I wanted to ask for some maesters and healers to be sent to the wagon camp.

- Did someone put up another fight?

- No. The fact is that some... women scorned by the gods for their lewd behavior are showing signs of some of the diseases common to their position. Something must be done about it.

- Sending maesters to treat whores instead of soldiers, that's the last thing we need! - snorted one of the lords.

- I don't mean to be rude, but soldiers will still have to be treated, and the more time that passes, the more soldiers will suffer.

- Well, just kick the whores out of the camp, or forbid the soldiers to go to them, and that's the end of it.

- Soldiers will still run to them despite the ban....

- The boy is right, we need to take action before all our soldiers decide to bring their wives unpleasant gifts," Lord Arryn interrupted Jon, the lord who had spoken before was clearly not happy about being taught by a bastard. - Is that all?

- That is all, my lords," Jon bowed.

- Then you may go.

***

Jon sat by the river, watching the priestesses of love bathe in it and wash their clothes, some of them doing his laundry duties in gratitude for the brew he had prepared. The boy quickly became something of a favorite pet in the camp. The women never missed an opportunity to pet him, and the children never missed an opportunity to play with him when they were off duty. The soldiers didn't mind his company either, and in addition to stories, he knew a lot of different kinds of jokes, not always decent. As a result, his presence in the army boosted the morale of the soldiers, albeit not much and only for some.

Snow examined the women with a quick glance; it was on one of these days that he had discovered some signs of diseases not the most pleasant, but not uncommon for the women of their profession. On his right, about fifteen feet away, a nude Dacey was bathing in the river.

The representative of the House of Mormont was not at all shy of her new friend, and neither were the other women here.

Dacey had a beautifully trim body, similar to most Norse warriors. Her breasts were high, not too large, but definitely not small, and a few abs adorned her belly. She moved gracefully and was very flexible, and to win someone's heart, it was enough to give her a shy smile. She would have looked as good in a dress as she did in a chainmail. John kept his gaze on his friend, she met his eyes and smiled, a shadow of embarrassment touching his cheeks, but he didn't look away. Because of his age, John had only friendly feelings for her, and so far he could only think of her as a big sister, without a hint of thoughts of debauchery.

His raven flew up to the boy and cawed, causing him to shift his gaze to a nearby bush. Another caw, and Snow threw a rock at the bush. From there came an indignant but quiet cry of pain. A few moments later, the soldiers emerged from there and began to stride back toward the camp. They did not dare to continue their occupation. The last time John had informed his friend of the spectators, she had grabbed her mace and broken one of their arms and a couple of ribs, the latter escaping. Her temper remained stern.

...

- Prince Stannis has arrived,'' Dacie told Jon.

- I know the soldiers are talking about it all the time.

The boy was at that moment braiding her hair into a hairdo of multiple plaits. Arya had always been satisfied with one or two, but Daisy had asked him to braid as many as he could.

- Ser Barristan will lead the attack on Old Wick. You and I will escort the supply ships.

- And what of the King?

- He and your father will lead the siege of Pyke.

- Then let's make sure they all have enough arrows, food and oil since they won't let us chop fucking squid.

- Of course we will, wolf boy," Dacey turned around and stroked John's head.

***

The Guardian of the North - Lord Eddard Stark - sat in his tent and finished writing letters, both to be sent to Castle Black in the event of his death. The first to the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, and the second to Benjen. Ned put aside the quill and inkwell and reread the letters again.

The first was a request that Benjen be temporarily relieved of his duties as Brother of the Night's Watch in the event of Ned's death. There was a possibility of releasing the black brother from his vows so that he could inherit the title and lands, all so that the noble house would not be interrupted. Lord Stark requested that Benjen be allowed to serve as regent under Robb until he came of age. Catelyn would be unable to manage the North, and there could be a rift among the lords over the right to be regent. The request may be unorthodox, but the Keeper of the North would surely be favored; he has never stopped supporting the ancient order. Stark sealed the letter and began to reread the second.

In it, Eddard asked his brother to take care of Jon, since Catelyn was unlikely to do him any good: exile was the best possible outcome, death the most likely. Despite a noble upbringing in the chivalric traditions of the Vale, with all that entails, Stark did not entertain any illusions that his wife would not be spared as a threat to Robb's rule. That the former Tully hated Jon, he had no doubt. The message asked that Jon be sent to be raised as far away from the North as possible, somewhere where neither Catelyn nor Hoster Tully's hands could reach. Ideally, Jon could be sent to Dorne, where bastards were treated more favorably. Ned wrote where he had stashed money that could be used to settle Jon, some of which could be left to the boy himself as an inheritance from his father.

Ned sealed the second letter and gave it to one of his trusted men with instructions on who to deliver it to in the event of his death. Lords are not supposed to fight in the heat of battle, but Northerners are different, and anything can happen in war, from dying from a stray arrow to falling overboard in heavy armor.

***

There was a dense, thick fog on the sea, so thick that nothing could be seen beyond thirty meters. It was impossible to sail in such weather, but the sailors relied on the experienced captains of the now-burned Lannister fleet, who knew the sea well, every shoal and natural obstacle. The ships should reach the shore without any trouble.

Jon beat back another blow with his practice sword, and he and Daisy decided to practice on the deck for a while; there was nothing to do now, anyway. The girl was more used to the mace, but she didn't have a training mace handy. Cargo transportation is a long, boring and thankless job, and the king's army outnumbers the rebel army by several or even dozens of times. And everyone needs to be fed.

Balon Greyjoy thought he could defeat the king's fleet at sea, that the Iron Men's Bay would become his impassable moat, and that the lords would not answer the call from the usurper. As it turned out, he was wrong all three times. Now the defeated rebel fleet could only make small attempts to resist the invasion, all of which were futile and fruitless.

Snow was about to deliver a stabbing blow, his rival had made a mistake and should pay for it, but then his raven cawed nastily and very loudly, and the bastard stopped. The bird perched on his master's shoulder and cawed again.

- Dacey, get the mace.

- Why?

- You'll need it soon enough, - the boy put aside his training sword and took out his bow, then fastened the quiver of arrows on his belt.

- What happened?

- The Ironborn have decided to ambush us, and they will attack us soon, taking advantage of the fog.

- How did you know?

- Claw saw them from high above while he was circling the ship.

- We must inform the captain.

- Then do it as soon as possible!

- Why me?

- They're gonna listen to an eight-year-old kid? I'm actually surprised you believed me.

- Well, you're smart, wolf boy.

For the next couple of minutes, Daisy tried in vain to convince the captain that the ship was about to be attacked. He, either by virtue of experience or arrogance, refused to believe any arguments, especially from a woman, just as he refused to speed up or turn the ship around. Still, this ship was a cargo ship, with few soldiers and guardsmen and a crew of mostly rowers and sailors. There were no guns of any kind, be they scorpions or catapults.

Jon couldn't stand it: he had no intention of dying today, especially because of the stubbornness of an old cretin. The bastard hastily drew an arrow from his quiver and roughly wrapped its shaft near the tip with straw that had been laid on the sailors' sleeping and resting boards, then dipped it in oil and brought it to the brazier.

The fiery arrow flew into the mist, its flight accompanied by a distinctive whistling sound. There was no sound of it falling into the water, but a tiny scarlet dot of fire could be seen in the fog and the sailors could be heard cursing before it disappeared. The captain's eyes widened in disbelief.

- The seventh scorcher! - He only exclaimed.

- Pull yourself together, old man! - Dacey barked at him.

- We need to get ready, there's probably one or two rooks out there, because almost all the bigger ships have been sunk or captured by Prince Stannis, and the remaining ones are just trying to delay losing the war by attacking ships carrying supplies and provisions.

- If I need a child's advice, I'll ask you, but in the meantime, shut your mouth or I'll throw you overboard! - Shouted the captain at John.

Snow did not start a confrontation, there was no time for that, and quarreling when the enemy was about to swim out at them was not the best solution. The fog began to clear slowly, and soon two rooks with golden kraken sails appeared a hundred meters away from them. Too small and light to penetrate a Royal Navy galley with a battering ram, but maneuverable and fast enough for pursuit, surprise attack, and boarding. Apparently, the Ironborn knew these places better than the Lannisport sailors, and timed their attack perfectly.

- Turn to face them! - commanded the captain.

It made sense, for their opponents would have to attack the board from the bow of their ship, which is always disadvantageous and dangerous, for if you attack from the bow, you will not hook the ships, and the boarding party will be surrounded on all sides.

The sails were lowered, and the sailors began hastily to prepare for the fight. As soon as the rooks were close enough, arrows flew at them. John drew the bowstring and exhaled an arrow at the target. It successfully penetrated the leather armor near the chest of one of the pirates and sent him overboard. The first kill in this world had been made. The shelling did not stop, but there was very little time for it. The ships were about to converge, and it was clear that it would not be easy to take the ship at a run. Snow fired a couple more shots, so far he couldn't fire more than six in a minute. The yew longbow required a great deal of strength, but it was well worth the effort. One of the pirates had an arrow through his thigh, and the fight was over for him.

There was a rumble from the clash of ships, the opponent's rooks hit the board almost simultaneously, the pirates began to jump on the deck, the first of them died instantly from the short spears stuck in their bodies, but the next ones were able to break through the chaotic formation of sailors and pass on. A veritable massacre began on deck. Snow fired an arrow from his bow, he was almost out of arrows, next to him Dacey knocked down one of the pirates with a powerful blow of her drop shield, then with one blow of her mace turned his head into a bloody mess. Bear Island warriors don't fence.

The men on the galleys of the royal fleet were far more numerous, but they were inferior in quality. The Ironborn had already beaten back the tail of the ship and, lined up in a wall of shields, were moving slowly toward the center, killing anyone they could get their hands on. The sailors began to run away from them in terror. John sharply grabbed the arm of Dacey, who was about to attack another pirate, for which he almost received a blow on the head with his mace, but at the last moment the girl came to her senses.

- Take the oil pots.

- What for?

- To get rid of those bastards! - John said, pointing to the wall of shields.

The pirates slowly moved from the tail to the center of the ship, their victory was a matter of time, even though their companions in the other section were nearly defeated and holding on from the last of their strength. There was a rumble and the sound of cracking pottery: one pot of oil flew into the shields and shattered, then a second, third and fourth. Apparently the pirates didn't realize what had hit them, one of the pots had wine in it.

- What a stubborn bitch! I'll make you my sea wife if your face is still as pretty by the end of the fight," one of the pirates wheezed, lowering his shield and pointing his boarding axe at Dacey.

For which he soon paid the price. John's arrow went straight through his throat, piercing his neck through and through. The arrowhead sticking out of the back of his neck was clearly visible to the pirates behind him. The ironborn immediately fell to the deck and grabbed his neck with his hands, trying to stop the blood, but there was no saving him. The rest of the pirates simply stepped over his corpse. Closing their shields, they continued to march forward.

Dacey was dragging one of the wounded, and the sailors were cautiously backing away. John realized that no one cared about him now, and that no one would notice his actions in the thick of the fight. He pointed his right palm toward the formation and used Flame, the weakest destruction school spell he knew, which was more than enough. The oil burst into flames, and with it the pirates. Panic broke out, the wall of shields collapsed, some of the burned began to jump overboard, some crashed into their comrades and caught fire. Now the odds were not in their favor. John then used an Inspiration spell on the sailors to inspire them to fight. He could have also used a battle cry or something similar, but an eight year old child wouldn't inspire the sailors to fight.

- Send those bastards to their Drowned God! - shouted Dacey and was the first to attack, the sailors running after her. Now the odds were not in the pirates' favor.

The battle lasted another ten minutes before the remnants of the ironclads surrendered. The royal sailors fought fiercely and desperately, they knew that the rebellion was doomed to defeat, which meant that the pirates would take no prisoners. The pirates were gradually pushed back and the galley was freed from them. They went to the bank and left almost no one on their ships, there was nowhere to run. Victory cost the lives of three-fifths of the crew, and the ram was stronger than originally expected. If the pirates had struck from both sides in the center, they might have been able to sink the galley.

The prisoners were tied up, the wounded ironborn, who probably wouldn't even make it to land, were just thrown overboard, while their own tried to get help and get out. Jon leaned overboard and threw up, for a hero of Skyrim the fighting was familiar, but the soul that Dovakin's soul had merged with was taking its toll.

- Set course for Old Vic," the captain commanded.

- We did it, wolf cub. You saved all those people," Daisy put her hands on John's shoulders.

The boy turned around and saw the appearance of his friend. Her coat was tattered and bloody. One of the sleeves of her armor was almost completely missing, and a thin trickle of blood was running down that arm. Her hair was disheveled and in an unprecedented mess. The remains of a black bear shield, broken in half, were lying nearby. Snow realized he probably didn't look any better, and he'd spent the whole fight firing his bow and picking off the downed with a boarding axe.

- Yeah, it worked.

- You know, at one point it looked like you were shooting fire at the enemy. Stupid, right?

- I threw the brazier on them," John lied to his friend for the first time.

That night he would wait until she was asleep and heal all her wounds with a regeneration spell that would drain him completely. The next day, in the morning, they would arrive at Old Vic.

***

The king's troops settled in the harbor of Old Vic. The island had a very convenient harbor provided by the bay of Naggy's Cradle. A wooden fence was hastily erected around the harbor, using mostly planks from captured and broken ships that could hardly sail properly anymore. And it could hardly be called a perimeter fence. There were no towers and no gates, and the wooden wall was more like a village fence, just higher than usual, but around the "wall" there was a ditch dug and stakes driven in.

The islanders still tried to drive the enemy back into the sea in the first days, but their attempts were futile, so they hunkered down in their castles and manors. The island had almost no strategic value, was very small relative to the others and, like all the islands of the archipelago, stony and unfertile. And it was located in the northwest of the archipelago farther from the others (except Black Wave Island), if you sail from Lannisport.

But the islanders considered the island sacred, and its loss would show that the gods were not favorable to them and their plan was doomed to failure. There was no other value to Old Vic. Barristan Selmy had already stormed the fortress of Camnelom and now the north of the island was behind the king's army.

Jon paced the camp near the harbor and habitually observed the activity of the soldiers. In addition to the Storm Lords, there were troops from the Riverlands and, to a lesser extent, the Northerners with the Lords of Spacious.

The part of the camp under the control of the Riverlands warriors was a pitiful sight. Chaotically placed tents made of unidentifiable stuff, dirt and debris everywhere, no dug latrine and no minimal organization. Even the Storm Brothers, after the fall of Windhelm and their withdrawal into the mountains and forests, had more organized camps, even the Kajiit caravans and Argonians had better facilities, and they were not always allowed outside the walls of the cities. They should not be compared to the army of the Cyrodiil Empire at all.

Prince Stannis refused to let their ship go to the mainland: it was damaged and poorly manned, and it turned out that the islanders had managed to sink two galleys that were to arrive before the ship on which Jon was traveling. Apparently, inspired by the success of the pirates decided to attack the third ship, not calculating their forces. The Royal Navy realized their mistake and reduced the fleet of blockade of the islands, allocated some ships to escort ships with supplies. The islanders were not going to give up so easily.

Snow had acquired trophies after the battle. Now he had almost five dozen silver deer, a small gem and a good dagger, which was John, you could say, a short sword. The bound islanders resented the looting by the child, but soon stopped. Maybe it was John's reply that he had paid an iron price, maybe it was Dacey standing behind him with a menacing look.

The sailors called Jon a seer and told everyone they had survived because of him. Prince Stannis himself spoke to the bastard and promised to reward him, yet the troops on the island could be left without supplies, and the siege of Storm's End was still in the memory. There was not a soldier on the island who had never heard of a bastard from Winterfell. Albeit to little avail.

In the week that Snow had been on the island, he had managed to repair his friend's chain mail with the harbor blacksmith. The rest of his free time was spent training with Dacey. Occasionally he would sneak into the tents with the wounded and practice his recovery magic, the muffling of footsteps helped a lot, as did stealth.

In his second week on the island, the remaining two castles surrendered, as did the islanders hiding in the ruins on Naggy Hill, only to finish assembling the siege weapons. Stannis Baratheon took the island in his brother Robert's name and left some troops and ships on the island, after which his fleet set course for Lordsport.

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