Game of Thrones: Paladin of Old Gods

Chapter 14: ''The first of many...''



Chapter 14: ''The first of many...''

POV Author;

Snow Mill Village...

The morning before the attack...

Duncan was surrounded by people, arranged in a circle around him, watching and listening intently.

He held only a wooden stick in his hand, he had sketched a drawing on the ground depicting the village and its surroundings.

Around him were 12 individuals:

Captain Drobhert: [Lev 6], man (Nordic) close to forty years of age, long sword, standard triangular shield with the crest of house Tallhart + Split Armor (medium made).

Syggha: [Lev 9], woman (Qarth) barely thirty years of age, long sword and dagger, leather armor + steel breastplate and shoulder straps (excellent workmanship).

Will: [Lev 9], man (origin unknown) aged just thirty, 2 long daggers + throwing daggers and studded leather armour (good workmanship).

Ramas: [Lev 10], man (origin unknown), age ???, short bow + short sword + one-handed crossbow, leather armour + protective steel forearms (medium quality).

Baragh No Dau: [Lev 10], man (Norvos) almost fifty years old, two-handed two-handed axe + 2 small throwing axes, no armour.

Narbo: [Lev 10], man (origin unknown) aged around forty, two-handed greatsword + short dagger + full plate armour (very good workmanship).

Josua of Jhala: [Lev 9], woman (summer islands) around thirty years old, goldenhearth longbow + leather armour (very good workmanship).

Leng Ro Ju: [Lev 9], man (land of Yi Ti) in his late thirties, long staff + leather bracelets and leggings (good workmanship).

Cohollo: [Lev 8], man (Dothraki) in his late twenties, long whip + Arakh , no armour.

Galladon Sand: [Lev 8], man (Dorne) in his early twenties, two handed long spear + 2 throwing javelins + studded leather armour (very good quality).

Dywen Stone: [Lev 8], man (The Vale) almost thirty years of age, two long swords + split armor (good quality).

Recallio Sodal: [Lev 8], man (Braavos) just over twenty years of age, smallsword + long dagger, no armor.

"Ramas, Cohollo, could you please describe the enemy forces in detail? How many horses, archers and melee fighters are there?" Duncan.

"Thirty-six horses in total, eleven archers, two crossbowmen and the rest with swords, clubs, one-handed axes and a few pikes." Cohollo replied, speaking the common tongue quite fluently.

"Scouts?" Duncan.

"Three, but only one is decent." Ramas.

Duncan had been thinking about the situation from many angles. The most important question for him was: 'Why do they want to attack us? Why risk so much?' After giving it some thought the only answer with any sense that came to his mind was:

'They know I'm here. They want to capture me to get a hostage,' thought the boy.

'If that is the correct answer then it means there is a spy in the castle and some lineage is making a move taking advantage of the chaos of the great war. I don't think it's iron men, they don't like fighting on horseback. They're probably Lannister or Tyrell men in disguise.' That was the most likely scenario, he thought.

"I have a plan." Duncan said, drawing more attention to himself.

Both Drobhert and Syggha had been instructed to test the child. If he made any wrong decisions they would intervene, but for now they let Duncan take the reins.

"We will fight here in the village, it is the ideal place for a trap. This place is vulnerable without any palisades and is surrounded by small hills on all sides. The horsemen won't miss a chance to charge straight at us, we need to convince them that we are vulnerable." Duncan paused for a moment thinking back to a quote told by Seraphinus.

[You must appear weak when you are strong, and strong when you are weak.]

"I'll act as bait, it's probably me they want. Let's prepare a path where they will chase us. The village land is still dry from the fires. Let's take some straw, wood from the destroyed houses, and the remaining pitch. As soon as they enter they will be surrounded by fires on their sides and will be forced to charge straight ahead." Duncan.

"How many villagers are in any condition to work?" Duncan asked.

"About thirty, my Lord, excluding the remaining children." Drobhert replied.

"We will need them all, we do not have much time to prepare. I also want you to build palisades of long wooden sticks tied together, and we need to dig a small ditch here." Duncan drew each specific task required on the ground.

"I also want each inhabitant to be camouflaged, as much as possible, so that from a distance they appear as soldiers." Duncan continued.

"We will pose, tired, distracted and drunk. A very palatable dish.

As soon as the cavalry charges, the inhabitants will head to this safe spot, away from the fighting." He took a pause and then continued.

"Probably the remaining 60 men of the enemies will approach after the cavalry charge, so as to surround the village." And then the boy asked.

"Ramas what is a good spot for our cavalry to hide without being discovered?" The boy asked the scout.

"Here, they cannot reach this point without crossing the river, they would pass too close to the village in this open clearing." Ramas replied, pointing to the spot.

"Captain, I want you and forty of your knights to take up positions there to await the signal. When it comes, mow down the enemies on foot as if you were reaping wheat." Duncan.

"Yes, my lord." Drobhert.

"Ramas, Cohollo, I would like you to send out a signal as soon as the enemy attacks. Afterwards take eight men to hunt down anyone who tries to escape." The two men nodded.

"I will take the remaining twelve Tallhart men and the nine remaining here. We will deal with the trapped cavalry." Duncan concluded with a question.

"Any objections?" Silence hovered for a few seconds. No one spoke, they were still trying to figure out how a five year old could put together such a plan.

Drobhert was sweating visibly. He couldn't stop thinking that probably, if he had been in charge of the bandits, he too would have fallen into the trap with both boots.

"Possibly I would like you to capture at least a dozen men, we need to interrogate them. In addition to finding out who is behind these attacks, several women in more than one village have been kidnapped, they may still be alive, prisoners in their lair. We must try to rescue them." Duncan.

Everyone present nodded.

"Well then, let's get to work." Said the boy.

End POV;

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POV Ser Vane Westbrook;

That night...

The knight was waiting for his scouts to return.

They were waiting in silence about half a mile from the village. In the distance they could see dozens of small fires burning.

"Phitt the scouts have returned." Said Grudof, the leader of a group of northern bandits. Three of Vane's men stepped forward.

"Well? What's the situation? I want you to describe everything in detail." Command Phitt (aka Ser Vane).

"About twenty men guarding the entrance to the village. Many are camped around campfires drinking and laughing. A few actually act as lookouts, but in this darkness they couldn't make out the horizon more than 50 feet from their noses. Also nearby a child and a man-at-arms are training in fencing with wooden swords. This seems to be our chief target. We also saw at least a dozen horses tied to a fence nearby. Probably the remaining men of the garrison are sleeping blissfully helpless." Described the scout trying to remember everything in detail.

"Is that all?" Phitt.

"Yes sir, that's what we were able to see without getting too close as you requested." The scout replied, the other two nodding to confirm what he had just said.

'In fact if I were them I wouldn't expect a night attack, they were expecting a group of 20, 30 bandits at most. Surprise is on our side.' Vane Westbrook thought smilingly.

"'Grudof! I'll lead the cavalry charge, you take the men and drop down the hill immediately afterwards. We need to surround the village before anyone manages to escape." Grudof nodded, licking his lip. He couldn't wait to make a few brave soldiers squeal in pain.

"Get ready. We're going to attack!" Vane said, mounting his horse.

Little nods of jubilation echoed through the men, they too were eager to get some blood flowing.

A few minutes later...

"Remember we must take the child alive!" The men on horseback nodded.

Ser Vane raised the arm that held his sword, and lowered it, shouting:

"Charge!!!" and set off first, spurring his horse.

The 35 men followed their commander.

Vane could also hear Grudof's command behind him, urging his group to attack.

The target was less than 600 feet away. As Vane descended, he noticed, out of the corner of his eye, a small light in the sky.

Immediately he noticed that, all the seated and distracted figures in front of them, stood up and started running quickly towards one direction, including the boy.

'You had a few more hidden scouts for safety, but that won't save you! It's too late now.' He thought spurring the horse to pick up more speed.

All the riders rode like lightning taking advantage of the slope of the hill. They would soon reach their targets on foot.

Vane led the cavalry towards a wide enough path between the village houses.

"Break through!!!" Roared Vane noticing a small group of soldiers less than 100 feet away from them who were hastily trying to organize.

Only now did Vane notice that many torches had been dropped at their sides and that slowly flames were rising higher and higher.

Instinctively he spurred his horse more fiercely, thinking it best to get away from the fire as quickly as possible. They had to break forward at any cost or they would be surrounded by flames.

80 feet...60 feet...30 feet....

'Oh no! There's a small ditch!!! We're too fast we'll have to jump!!!' Thought Vane and some men on either side of him instinctively as they noticed a small ditch in front of them, at least 6 feet long and at least 2 feet deep that was invisible before due to some debris.

"NOW!!!!" rang out a loud boyish voice.

At least five men pulled ropes that raised in unison a large wooden fence with sharp poles.

"STOP THE CHARGE!!!!" Shouted one man...but it was too late.

Vane somehow managed to throw himself to the side, abandoning his horse.

He heard an echo of nitrites and screams of pain accompanied by various sounds of broken bones, thudding bodies on the ground, broken wood and banging metal objects.

He was rolling on the ground in the mud and dirt, when a stabbing pain came from his left leg. A dying horse had run him over.

"ARRGHH!!!" He screamed, unable to bear the pain...and then he heard another loud command coming from that devilish voice.

"ARCHERS, LOOSE!!!!"

End POV.

----------------

POV Grudof;

The leader of the band was running up to the village with his nearly seventy men. A few seconds after the cavalry entered the main street of the village he shouted:

"DISPERSE AND SURROUND THE VILLAGE!!! DO NOT SAVE ANYONE!" shouts of approval echoed behind him.

Shortly afterwards he heard a loud noise of chaos, screams of suffering and various nitrites coming from the village itself. He noticed a short time later that flames were rising, lighting a clear path. He was confused and frightened, not really knowing what was going on. Then he heard behind him...

"Boss! They're behind us!!!" Shouted one of his subordinates, and soon he heard other voices.

"TEAR THEM APART! CHARGE!!!!" Roared a man on horseback a few feet away from them.

Grudof turned around and immediately his vision became blurred. Everything in front of him was moving as if he were going in circles, and when he stopped, he noticed a headless body at his side...then his vision darkened...

End POV

-------------------

POV Duncan;

The scene before me was a one-sided massacre.

Screams, blood, horses and dying men. Two bodies were impaled a few feet from me, blood spatters reaching my face.

I didn't panic, but above all I didn't feel guilty.

"ARCHERS, LOOSE!!!" I shouted for the third time in a row as soon as I noticed that, the eight men and one woman next to me, again had their bows pointed and outstretched.

Another volley hit a mixture of senselessly piled bodies. A few screams from standing men, who had somehow saved themselves from the threat in front of them, echoed again.

'Now, it's time!' I thought instinctively.

"PREPARE TO CHARGE!" I shouted the command. Many bows were thrown to the ground and swords and shields were picked up.

"DROP!" The men, who were holding the ropes of the fence taut, let go.

I took a long breath as I began to practice the breathing technique I had been exercising almost every night for over a year.

"ADVANCE!!!" I commanded drawing my short sword. A dozen men stepped forward step by step. A pile of bodies in the moat along with the fence, acted as a bridge to cross the small moat.

Syggha, Will, Baragh and Leng were on either side of me, acting as personal guards. Josua (the archer) was behind me with her arrow drawn, ready to intervene. The rest of Tallhart and Zick's men were already entering the fray.

Of the original 36 mounted enemies, there were about 20 left standing. Almost all of the survivors had somehow managed to get off their horses (which had become unmanageable in the chaos).

The fight began, Narbo (a level 10 two-handed sword warrior) had already sliced a man in half and was preparing to cross blades on a second victim. Dywen [8] and Recallio [8] had also just overpowered one enemy each. Galladon had impaled a poor man with one of his javelins, after which he grabbed his two-handed spear and stabbed a man in the neck who was charging forward.

Time around me slowed down. I could hear the sound of my own breathing above all others around me. And then I saw him...

A man about six feet tall was walking towards me. I had noticed that Zick's men had deliberately let him through. He looked tired and wounded, an arrow, stuck inside his chain mail, protruded out of his shoulder.

'They chose an opponent I could deal with.' I thought while keeping my focus on the man in front of me. My personal guards took a step to the side to surround us and give us space for combat.

The man must have lost his wits, he charged without thinking about what was going on around him. He was level [4] but I didn't care.

I could see every step and every gesture of his arms. Coming within two steps of me, he tried a two-handed slash with his longsword downwards.

'I don't have time to dodge it, nor the strength to parry it. I must deflect it!' I thought instinctively as my arms moved on their own. A basic movement rehearsed thousands and thousands of times.

'Tingheennn!' echoed the sound of one blade sliding over the other.

I could see it! The flow of the blade, was telling me to strike on his exposed left knee. Calmly and fluidly I followed the movement, moving my body to the side.

"Shiff".... "AAARGHHH!!!" Shouted the man landing on the ground on his knee.

I didn't hesitate a second longer, I spun around looking for a slash on his neck.

'Splurshh'...the blow was fast but not strong enough. However half of my blade was inside his neck. Splashes of blood swept over me from head to toe. The man's body slumped to the ground.

I took deep breaths trying to realise what had just happened. I looked at my bloody hands, then looked around me.

Bodies of men and beasts everywhere, a devastating stench of burnt, blood and shit wafted everywhere.

The fight was almost over. A small group of seven men was surrounded on all sides.

"THROW DOWN YOUR WEAPONS AND SURRENDER!" I shouted, staring at the frightened men. I was tired... too much death and misery in one day.

A moment of silence and then metallic tinkles echoed through the air...

The battle was won.

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