From Westeros to Essos : The Crusader King

Chapter 42 – Deus Volt (3)

Despite winning against the wilding, Konrad felt nothing but pity. Aye, he could understand why the warrior didn't want to risk his and the lives of his kin anymore for a southerner lord, but at the same time, what could have he done to get back beyond the wall?

Not to mention that his little show of defiance could have made the impression in many that they too could just take over someone position because they have the guts to challenge them, something that Konrad was not planning to see happen in his lifetime.

Looking up from the dead body of the wilding, Konrad decided to address his people. "Wulf challenged me to a fight so that he and his people could leave. I accepted the challenged not to force him and his kin to remain, but to because in these dark times we live, we have to be united. If any of you, free folk, want to leave for your lands, I will make sure that the next ship that sails for the Wall will take you home, just like I did a while ago. "

After saying that, Konrad turned and walk towards his tent. Today was a long and painful day, but tomorrow… tomorrow they will start their attack.

Once inside his tent, Konrad slowly took off his armor before sitting on his chair, closing his eyes and thinking about the future. What he had done today would undoubtedly earn him some respect amongst his people, but was it worth it? Killing your own people was not something he wanted to be known for.

Letting out a sigh, Konrad heard his tent's door being open and a second later Tyrek walked inside before making his way to the chair in front of his.

"You know, lad, there are people who would have been more than happy to help with the armor." The Lannister said, trying to take his lord's mind away from the killing.

"Uncle… I'm not in the mood for your jabs right now."

"I know that, but I still worry. Despite being mature, you are still a nine name days old boy. Besides fighting to the death in a duel, is something many a man would find haunting after they win."

"It's not the act that scares me. It's how the people will see me now. They already fear me due to my condition, and I'd rather not give them another reason to fear me. After all no one would follow a monster who kills him people for pleasure."

Tyrek chose to keep his mouth shut and only nod at his lord's words. He knew that Konrad was not a monster, but a brave and noble young man ,but compared to his father, this young falcon had sharp talons that he wasn't shy to use. Instead of delving too much on such dark subject, he decided to change the subject to the siege and the upcoming attack.

"So, my lord, what are your plans for tomorrow? Are we going to commit any men to the assault, or are we going to rely on the catapults to harass the enemy like we talking earlier?"

Konrad opened his eyes and looked at his uncle. He appreciated his attempt to distract him from his dark thoughts, but he knew that he had to face the reality of the situation sooner rather than later.

"We might have to send some men to the walls, uncle. The catapults alone won't be enough to break the walls, you said that yourself. Not to mention that we need to find a way to get over or under the walls, and that means risking more lives, lives that I'd rather not see die for no result."

"I had some of your men go back to Volantis and bring here as many barrels of rotten fish as they could. Combining those and the bodies of the slavers, we should have enough ammunition for our catapults to destroy any morale those slavers might have…"

"And once they morale is destroyed, we charge. Do you reckon it would work?"

"Konrad… I might be a knight, but I've not fought in a siege like this before. I don't know what will work and what won't but I swear I will do anything in my power to keep you safe."

For an entire week, the enemy had smashed boulder and bodies at their walls. Despite the desperate attempts of the slavers and of their master, tens of slave soldiers choose to jump out of the wall down to their deaths or freedom for the lucky ones than to live even a moment longer inside the safety of those walls.

Hour after hour for seven days straight, the enemy threw bodies inside the stronghold, forcing the ones inside to dump the bodies as close to the walls as they could creating a small hill of decomposed bodies. The air inside the cave became foul and suffocating, as the decomposing bodies of both men and fishes emitted a horrible stench that made everyone gag and vomit. Flies and maggots infested the flesh, and diseases spread among the survivors. The ex-triarch knew that he had no chance of escaping or negotiating with the enemy, who wanted nothing but his head on a spike and so in a last desperate attempt gathered all of the surviving slavers and slaves near the gate.

Stench was looking down at his sword as he and sixty-eight other slave soldiers waited at the gates, ready to charge out against the breaker of chains. In all his life, he would have never guessed that there will be a day where he would be forced to fight against freedom itself, and yet the bald slave couldn't bring himself to fight his master's orders. After all the master orders and he obeys.

Unlike he and his brothers in suffering, the more important masters wore some good armor made of thick padding that should protect them better than Stench's rags would ever do. The good master told them to keep their mouths shut and just charged until they could kill, and so he and his brothers would do.

Before he could even think too much, the guards of the Good Master lifted the wood beam from its brackets and then opened the gates to allow the masters and slaves to charge out, Stench kept his eyes on the enemy's camp, a good distance away from their new home. Once everyone was in line the formation broke into a march, both slaves and masters moving forward knee to knee against what they thought to be an unaware enemy, preferably one that was running around in confusion rising from their slumber and running after their weapons, but instead, what greeted them were rows and rows of armed men and women awaiting them.

By now it was too late to return, not that the Good Master would ever open the gates for mere slaves, but a man can dream. Even from where he was, one or two hundred meters away from them, Stench could still see the mass of armored men on equally armored horses staring at them.

Then he saw them, men in white and black armors, charging forward, their horses looking like beasts from the most horrific legends as they quickly covered the distance between them. In fear, Stench closed his eyes for a second, but that was enough as when he opened them, there was a succession of loud thuds as the armored men long spears struck their targets, the points driving through flesh and bone to skewer their targets. Luckly for him, none of those men came for him, but just as he turned, wanting to run away, a man… a Braavosi thrust his spear right into his belly making Stench to turn his head and open his mouth in alarm just as his belly was ripped open.

Jaq released the shaft and slid his right hand through the leather strap of the sword that hung on the right side of saddle, in its specially designed leather scabbard, and gripped the handle.

Even here, leading the knights and the initiates, he still remembers the words of his young lord.

"Impaling ill-armored slavers is fine, but there will be times when the enemy will be too close for your lance."

He passed another initiate who had just lanced another slaver from behind, before reaching down at his sword to deliver a blow that split the man's helmet open. Leaving the initiate to fight, Jaq turned and saw his target, a man wearing probably the best armor amongst those slavers and slave warrior. Raising his lance in position he charged forward, but just as he was about to pierce the man, he caught his lance blow on his shield, forcing Jaq to swung his sword down, behind the shield to shatter the arm that had been holding it. The man screamed before dropping the shield, his right arm hanging limply. Before the man could even react to the pain, his head rolled down from his shoulder as the Braavosi knight cut it in a clear motion.

Turning his horse around, Jaq was greeted with a field littered with bodies. He and his men had made short work of the enemy, alas not without loses. He could see three horses without their riders being led back to the camp by one of the initiates making the first Teutonic knight to grit his teeth in frustration, as every death would mean another lost loyal man for their lord.

Just as he was about to send one of the initiates to ask for order, Osmund Hill, one of the most promising initiates ride beside before pointing slightly forward.

"See ahead, that's Ser Tyrek. We must link up with him and his men!'

But Jaq was not looking at the blonde knight, no, his eyes were on the smaller figure riding slightly behind him, heavily flanked by the knights tasked with his protection. Smiling to himself, Jaq turned his head towards his men.

"God be with us, our lord rides to end this madness!"

Everyone responded by shouting 'God with us!' as Jaq spurred his horse forward, the brother knights, and initiate once again forming into line alongside him.

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