~~~Four months later~~~
~~~War camp, Mountains of the Moon~~~
Artys Arryn POV
"The remnants of the hill tribes are forming an alliance against us," Lord Grafton said from his seat at the war council.
"They gather behind a man calling himself the King Under the Mountain," Soryn added.
King under the mountain… I have heard that somewhere.
"King Under the Mountain," Royce muttered. "I wonder how the crown will take that."
"They won't," I replied, eyes fixed on the map. "The crown is drowning in debt. In the last four months alone, they have borrowed half a million gold dragons from us. Father says the Iron Throne now owes nearly four million."
"So what do we do?" Soryn leaned forward. "We know where they are. Why not march and end it? We outnumber them three to one."
He doesn't understand. Does he?
"You want us to walk into the lion's den?" Corbray shook his head. "We'd be butchered like cattle."
I agree. Men are not so easily replaced.
"We sit and do nothing, then?" Soryn snapped. "Wait for them to attack us? I might not be an expert in war, but even I know that's not a sound strategy."
"That's not what I meant," Corbray replied, his gaze returning to the wooden soldiers on the map.
"We can wait," Ser Robert said. "Let them starve."
"It won't work. We have fifteen thousand mouths to feed. They have far fewer," I said.
I finally understood something. Fighting is the easiest part of the war; the real challenge is to maintain the supply lines.
Lord Grafton entered the tent, armor still stained with blood, his breathing heavy.
A shallow cut marked his cheek.
"My lord," he said, dropping to a knee.
"Rise. Are you well?"
"I am fine, my lord. It would take more than this scar to take me down."
"How did it go?"
"Two thousand of them were moving to join the savage camp. But no worries, we intercepted them. Fifteen hundred captives were taken. Your spies do their job well."
He sat and drained a cup of wine in one go.
"That was my—never mind," Robert muttered, eyeing the cup.
"Though the majority of them were women and children, they were being escorted by young men," Lord Grafton added after settling into his chair.
Suddenly, a falcon swept in.
"Kak-kak-kak."
The sound echoed through the tent.
So what's the news?
"Kak-kak-kak," it landed on my forearm.
"Easy there, Storm," I said, patting his head as I reached for the paper tied to his leg.
I opened the paper. It was blank, as usual.
"Emperor," the falcon rasped, "they strike tonight. Many chiefs' sons were taken by the men you sent. They come to rescue them and hope to kill you."
"This fucking bird makes a lot of noise. It's annoying," Ser Lyn said, covering his ears.
"That you two have in common," Ser Robert said with a smirk.
The birds, whenever they bring news to me in someone's presence, have a blank paper tied to their legs.
I act as if reading, and they speak. To outsiders, it looks like birds are making noise, but to me it's different since I can understand them.
"What have your spies reported, my lord?" Ser Jasper asked.
"What are those savages planning?" Lord Grafton asked, concern all over his face.
Whenever the falcons come, they think I am receiving messages from my spies among the hill tribes.
Though in reality, it's my birds who keep an eye on them.
"Our wait is over," I said. "The King Under the Mountain plans to strike tonight."
"Madness," Royce said. "The camp is fortified. Trenches, towers—we outnumber him. Why would he do that? Are you sure about the words of your spy?"
"I am," I said with confidence.
Finally, after fifteen days, they have decided to make a move.
I will make it easier for them to enter the camp.
"But this move doesn't make any sense," he said.
That is exactly what I would be thinking right now. Why would the hill tribes make a move?
My camps are almost like Roman camps, with two outer walls, trenches surrounding the camp, and dozens of watchtowers to monitor all movement.
"The blood-covered man has captured sons of multiple tribe chiefs, and their rations are running out. The children are starving. Many want to surrender. Kak-kak," the falcon said while eating berries from the basket.
So they are desperate.
"The wolves and bears hunt them in the forest, as per your order. They have very few options left, while the crows and rats have eaten most of their supplies. Kak-kak."
Eaten most of their supplies? How much could those shits eat? For fuck's sake, I feed them here and they still eat over there like this.
I can understand the wild rats, but why the hell are those crows eating that pig food?
It seems using forest animals against the hill tribes was a good decision, though the wolves here are normal ones, nothing compared to the direwolves the Stark children will have.
But grizzly bears are something else. I should have a designated unit of men riding them into battle, covered in armor.
"Lord Grafton, those savages you captured—where are they?" I asked calmly.
"They should be in the cells along with the rest," he replied.
"Good. I suspect this is about them. Perhaps among them are children of tribal chiefs. That could explain their desperation," I said, standing.
"My lords, why they are coming is not our concern. What matters is they are coming, and we must give them a warm welcome," I said with a smirk.
Time to cut some throats.
"Ser Lyn, take your men and get every prisoner Lord Grafton brought and crucify them. Make sure they are visible from the main gate. It will lure them in," I ordered.
Silence fell over the tent.
"My lord…?" Royce rose slowly.
"Though spare the little boys," I added.
I might be a bad person, but children are where I draw the line.
Royce leaned forward, hand pressed against the table. "My lord, this will make you look like a tyrant."
A tyrant.
So be it.
"Lord Royce, I hardly believe your compassion is justified. What rights do these savages have? For thousands of years they have tormented our people, and now when we have cornered them, you want to show mercy?" Lord Grafton shouted.
"I have no feelings for them, nor am I being merciful. I lost my father because of them," Royce roared. "But that doesn't mean we become animals like them!"
"If you want, I could mount their heads on spikes," Lyn said. "That would make a much better spectacle."
"No need for that."
For fuck's sake, I want to use them as bait. Killing them would only make them more violent.
"My lord," Lord Royce interjected.
"Lord Royce, tell me—would you prefer we lose thousands of men in straight battle, or use these savages as bait and reduce our casualties?" I asked.
"But—"
"No," I cut him off. "Ser Lyn, get on with it. Make sure their screams echo through the valley."
His grin widened. "Gladly, my lord."
Leading men for the past six months has taught me a lot. What does change mean after all?
"Lord Corbray, you will be responsible for managing the men. Make sure none of them get drunk today," I instructed.
"I will order the kitchen to prepare light food and no drinks for today. If the men ask, I will say all the alcohol barrels are finished. The new batch will arrive tomorrow," he added with a smirk.
"Good," I nodded, scanning the room to find a few other people responsible enough to handle the next task.
"Ser Gilwood, I put you in charge of the watchtowers. Make sure the hill tribes face little resistance until they enter the camp," I ordered the heir of Longbow.
"And once the majority of them have entered, close the gates. Make it rain fire on them."
Ser Gilwood Hunter nodded, understanding his role.
"Ser Jasper, you will lead men from the left side of the camp, and Ser Rober will lead men from the right, while I and Lord Royce will attack from the center."
The plan is very basic, but it should work. I hope so, because if it doesn't, I am going to lose a good amount of men today.
Though considering my history, all the shit I have been through in the past six months, things don't tend to go with my plans.
"Ser Gilwood, make sure to rain hell on them once they are in from the watchtowers," I added as my last instruction.
"What about me?" Ser Lyn asked. He was the only one not assigned any post.
"You and Kallen will hide near the walls with five hundred men. Make sure no reinforcements for the savages arrive, and none of them escape. Guard the gate."
"The meeting is adjourned. We have a long night ahead of us. Let's prepare for it," I said finally with a sigh as I stood up.
"And make sure to spread the word after dinner. Have men go from tent to tent to spread the news. Tell them to be ready, just don't come out until the horn is blown," I added.
"Who will blow the horn?" Robert asked in between.
"Ser Gilwood, since he will be on the watchtowers," I declared.
"Now leave," I said, taking my seat again. "I need some rest."
"Yes, my lord," all of them said in unison.
I hope I can catch this King Under the Mountain as soon as possible. I need this war to end.
Then I can finally go on voyages. I built those ships for a reason.
Finding those dragon eggs, then visiting the island near old Valyria that the celestial gave me the map of in the beginning, then finding a way to hatch them, getting to Asshai—fuck, the list is too long.
And I am running out of time.
POV ends