"We lost many men in the sea battle, and our ships suffered damage as well." Vickary's chainmail had been cleaned, but the marks left by swords were still eye-catching.
"You offer ransom to buy your lives and freedom, but what is the price for these things? Who will pay for them?"
"What a joke." 'Crippled Hand' Tyrek spat, filled with indignation.
"Braavosi, we never made an enemy of you. You were the ones who launched a surprise attack on us, killing our crew and seizing our ships. Did you expect my men to let you slaughter them without fighting back?"
Vickary: "You are pirates!"
"Pirates?" Tyrek tried to raise his chained hands in agitation, the metal links clanking crisply.
Feeling the restraint on his hands, he gave a bitter smile.
"Young lad, say what you want. We're just the losers now."
Before Vickary could speak again, the Captain of the Guard said in a hoarse voice:
"You dare laugh? You burned the houses of Sisterton and slaughtered its residents. These are undeniable facts!"
The captain pointed to the blackened gallows outside the tent.
"Ransom? Fuck your ransom. I've prepared enough rope for all of you, including those who fled into the mountains. I will hang every last one of you from it.
"In a few days, flies will swarm your corpses, crows will peck out your eyes, and hyenas will tear open your bellies at night to feast on your entrails."
"Avik is willing to pay compensation for his actions." Facing the insults and threats, Avik, standing beside Tyrek, frowned and said:
"The dead, the burned houses, the damaged ships—how much does Avik need to pay? All of this can be negotiated.
"Avik can even help you persuade those who fled to surrender, and swear to the Trios never to return to the waters around Westeros in this lifetime."
Unlike Avik's attitude of paying whatever was asked for freedom, Tyrek didn't chime in.
"My Lord? I want to ask you: when we were killing and burning, where were you? Why didn't you say these things to us then?
"Why wait until we surrendered, bound hand and foot, to speak these pretty words?"
Tyrek's thick beard couldn't hide his utter disdain for the Captain of the Guard.
"Half the town burned. Don't tell me you didn't know what was happening here. Were you hiding in your castle practicing these pretty speeches against the stone walls? Or were you preparing your... ropes?"
"Right now, here..."
Bang—
Before Tyrek could finish, the Captain of the Guard stood up abruptly and punched him in the face, knocking him to the ground.
"You set the fires to lure us out. Earl Godric saw through your scheme and ordered us to hold the castle."
"Following orders?" Tyrek spat out two bloody teeth. Despite the chains, he scrambled up quickly, looking at the Captain with undisguised contempt.
"A perfect excuse, isn't it?"
"In my eyes, you are far inferior to this young brat." Tyrek pointed his chained hands at Vickary, then spat another mouthful of bloody foam at the Captain.
"If you were both my captives, I'd sell him to the slavers for ten times your price."
"You have a death wish!" The Captain drew the sword at his waist, his face furious.
Seeing him draw his sword, Tyrek agilely stepped back. Avik moved closer to Ser Marlon, shooting a discreet look of disgust at both Tyrek and the Captain.
"Wait!" Seeing the Captain intent on pursuing with his sword drawn, Tyrek showed his bound hands and hurried to say:
"You truly are the most cowardly man I've ever seen. You draw a sword on a man bound hand and foot?"
Tyrek turned to Vickary. "Boy, young boy, brave boy, come kill me. Even if I, 'Crippled Hand' Tyrek, must die, I cannot die at the hands of a coward."
"Pirate, I will unlock your shackles and give you a sword." The Captain pointed his sword tip at Tyrek, his hand trembling with rage. "No Sisterman is a coward!"
"Forgive Avik's intrusion, my lords, but Avik has a question." Avik, standing far away, asked in his unique voice.
"Whose captives are Avik and Avik's rude companion exactly? Avik wants to be sure if ransom needs to be paid to all of you."
"Sheathe your sword, Sisterman." Hearing this, Ser Marlon stood up. His fine armor and tall stature gave him an imposing presence.
"They surrendered to me. They are my captives. You alone do not decide their fate."
Captain of the Guard: "I must remind you, this is Sweetsister, Northman!"
Ser Marlon tilted his head arrogantly. "If not for us, this place would be ruins. Rather than feeding their corpses to the island's livestock, it is more practical to let them live and pay a hefty ransom."
"Hmph."
The Captain and Ser Marlon stared at each other for a moment. With a cold snort, the Captain sheathed his sword and sat back down with a dark expression.
Seeing this, Avik smiled smugly. Tyrek kept spitting bloody foam onto the ground, his gaze on the Captain even more scornful.
Avik: "Now, wise lords, let Avik discuss the specific details of compensation with you."
Just as Avik finished speaking, a commotion erupted outside the tent. Just as Ser Marlon was about to ask what was happening...
He felt a foul-smelling wind blow in from outside.
After this 'wind' passed, the smug Tyroshi and the Myrman clearing his mouth of blood froze in terror.
In the next instant, their heads fell from their necks!
Ser Marlon saw the sudden change and the small figure now standing in the tent. He opened his mouth to speak but ended up sighing.
He had a deep impression of this short figure, thanks to the strange armor that looked soaked in blood after the battle and the relentless, sharp swordsmanship he displayed against the pirates on deck.
"Who are you?" The Captain was startled. "Did you crawl out of the Seven Hells?"
"Weiss?" Vickary exclaimed. "What have you done?"
'Shorty' Weiss picked up the two distinct heads from the ground, stating as woodenly and plainly as ever:
"My orders were: once the beacon is lit, seize the ships, kill the pirates, and send their heads to Pebble."
"The pirates on the island who fled or were captured are all killed now, beheaded. Now, what I must do is send their heads to Pebble."
Listening to Weiss's flat narration, Tyrek's words from moments ago echoed in the Captain's mind:
"Following orders... a perfect excuse, isn't it?"
Thinking of this, a chill ran through his heart. He shuddered involuntarily, looking at Weiss with fear.
Headless men clearly lost their value for communication and ransom. Soon, all the pirate heads were gathered and loaded onto a large flat-bottomed boat.
In the hold, the heads were stacked neatly like cargo. Worried they would rot and stink during transport, Weiss thoughtfully found a healer to sprinkle them with lime and charcoal.
The pirates' bodies weren't wasted either. The Captain's rope came in handy; as he had promised, he hung the pirates one by one from the gallows to feed the crows.