[Chapter Size: 4200 Words.]
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Third Person POV
Twins, 300 AC.
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Screams echoed through the clearing as a man laughed, forcefully pulling a woman by the hair into his tent.
"You've already had plenty of fun with the others tonight. Now it's my turn!" the man said with an excited grin.
The woman tried to resist, struggling against him, but there was little she could do. Tears streamed from her eyes as she already foresaw her fate.
She was already used to it. They were abused constantly by the entire camp of men who had captured them over a week ago, after she watched her parents be killed while trying to flee the riverlands.
But after seeing the condition of a woman they had abused that morning, hearing screams of agony like a wounded animal until they finally stopped, even the bandits themselves became disturbed. A drunk and ill-tempered man dragged the woman outside.
She was alive, but not for much longer. She was silent, her eyes empty. Her mind was already dead, only her soul had yet to leave. She had several burns inflicted by the men themselves, even her face had been burned. She had been tortured in the middle of the rape.
The other three women were horrified by it, and the bandits started arguing with someone called Jacinto, the one responsible for what happened. But the man merely grumbled that it was his right and threatened the others. Since then, he had been isolated in a corner, with everyone looking at him as if they wanted to kill him for ruining one of their goods.
Goods. That was all they were to those maniacs. There were knights, soldiers, and even common folk among them, all choosing the life of bandits.
And this woman ended up being chosen as the next one to go into the tent. She screamed, not wanting the same fate, even if it was not the same man as before. She was dragged away while the other men only laughed at the scene.
That was one of the southernmost bandit groups.
The explosion at the Twins had obviously drawn the attention of the entire surrounding region. And those men stared in shock at the flames burning after finding a place high enough to look north, toward the Freys' seat, able to see the smoke in the distance.
They were in the region of Erenford, and even though it had frightened them, over the next few days the bandit group had already returned to its usual routine, although they still wondered what could possibly have happened in that place to cause such an explosion.
Around the campfire in the middle of the camp, while some were still inside the tents and others were tending horses and skinning meat for the midday meal, many people gathered there discussing the future of the group.
"So, Will, we're moving. There aren't any nearby villages left for us anymore. We should head north, where the war hasn't affected things as much," the comrade beside him said.
The leader, Will, seemed thoughtful about it while continuing to roast a piece of meat.
"I think you're right, but first we need to see if those guys are still there, right? The captured ironborn talked about them, and so did our contact..." he commented, eating a piece of meat and tossing the rest near a pillar where an ironborn who had been captured a few days earlier was sitting. He had fled from Seagard, saying the Arcticans had arrived and massacred them. They had no choice but to scatter in every direction.
"And our contacts said they headed to Seagard after destroying the Twins..." the other companion said in a tone as if he did not believe his own words. "They must already be at sea by now or inside the fortress..."
"Fine. I think it would be good to take a look at that ruined fortress. Maybe there are still some things left behind," Will said while everyone nodded.
Certainly, those greedy wasps hungry for gold and other valuable items had been somewhat cautious of the Arcticans in recent days, but now, with their absence, they intended to search through all that destruction looking for anything left behind. After all, there should still be gold coins around, since the metal would not be so easily destroyed by the explosion.
"And we also need more women. We only have three left alive now," the other man muttered irritably.
"That's because that piece of shit Jacinto can't control himself..." Will immediately grumbled. "Always overdoing it, torturing women for no reason."
"Jacinto, you're not touching another woman in this camp again!" the leader immediately growled at Jacinto, who was sitting in a corner eating meat, isolated because of the last incident, while giving him a furious glare.
The man snarled back at Will. "I deserve it. I captured her," he said to the leader.
"No. You're not touching anyone anymore. You can't be trusted," Will had decided.
The dogs were also eating the meat the men tossed to them while everyone remained silent.
Jacinto looked at the leader with a defiant expression while Will grabbed his sword and began to rise.
"What is it? Do you have a problem with my orders?" he said in a voice filled with danger.
"It's time for someone to replace you," Jacinto declared.
All the men looked at each other. Certainly, the two were about to kill one another.
Will looked at his men, seeing them back away, since none of them intended to help him. He advanced toward Jacinto with his sword. It was time to teach this idiot a lesson.
"I was cutting throats while you were still sucking on your mother's shriveled breast," Will said, while Jacinto was already raging like an ogre, still drunk and deeply irritated by the earlier complaints.
But just as the two were about to approach each other, two arrows were fired from the forest, striking both men before they even had time to react, piercing their throats.
They immediately collapsed to the ground, unable to produce any sound besides groans of agony with the arrows lodged in their necks.
All the others immediately turned their attention toward that side of the forest, surprised to be suddenly under attack, and the dogs had not even warned them about someone's arrival.
"It's an enemy attack!" they shouted the obvious.
Now leaderless, more arrows were placed on bowstrings, but five of them flew with force, striking four more bandits before they could even react.
Meanwhile, inside the tents, men came running out naked, preparing themselves for battle.
The dogs suddenly snarled and turned against the group itself, biting directly into the bandits' throats while they tried to regroup.
More arrows were fired. They landed exactly where they were aimed, hitting gaps in the enemy's defenses, and the bandits fell to the ground dying.
Jon stood among the trees, observing with a bow in his hand. He and the others had been silently analyzing the camp minutes before beginning the attack.
Phoenix and Bleufire were also in the sky at that moment, providing analytical support for Jon. When there were not many men left in the camp, being attacked by their own dogs while managing to kill some of them but not escaping unharmed, some simply suffered horrible deaths, with teeth sinking into their own faces.
Jon raised another arrow and aimed again. Even though he used a bow with proficiency, though not great mastery in technique, he released the arrow, hitting an ironborn directly in the head while the man tried to grab a shield.
The man dropped dead, his brain ruptured.
Meanwhile, the other Arcticans also fired arrows from concealment. The enemies could not even tell where they were coming from, but in a short time more than twelve bandits had been killed and another five were incapacitated by the dogs themselves.
The last three bandits, watching the scene, exchanged glances before starting to flee in the opposite direction.
They ran into the forest, but as they passed through the trees, soldiers of the Arctic Royal Guard were already there waiting, quickly surprising them as they emerged from the woods and cutting them down with ease, killing the last three.
"There are still two hiding inside the tents. Come with me," Jon said, entering the area alongside the others.
He pointed toward each of the tents where men still remained, some hiding, others still asleep.
"Please! Please, don't kill me!" said a skinny man.
The man from Arctic who dragged him outside looked toward the king. Jon analyzed the bandit and looked at his man, only responding with a nod.
That made the Arctican soldier pull out a dagger and slit the skinny man's throat without mercy while he choked on his own blood.
The second bandit they brought out, however, was in a somewhat peculiar situation. He was not trying to protect himself or hide. The man had drunk too much the previous night and was sleeping through all the chaos.
The man even opened his eyes, staggering and trembling while trying to understand where he was, certainly suffering from a terrible headache.
Jon sighed, and his men threw the man to the ground before simply slitting his throat, making his head roll away.
"My king, she cannot be saved," another Arctican replied. The naked and wounded woman lying outside the tent was still breathing, but her eyes were empty.
Jon looked at the woman who had suffered abuse and torture, treated like slaughter livestock by those bandits. There were others there, but she had suffered far more... Her mind was broken.
"Do it quickly," was all Jon said.
The man nodded and did not fail to say a brief prayer to the old gods before taking his sword and cutting her throat as swiftly as possible.
Jon said nothing more. The rest of the men also began searching through the remainder of the camp.
Another woman was pulled crying from one of the tents while an Arctican covered her with a cloth.
She could not even look at them, and the other two tied outside the tents were not much different, watching cautiously, expecting only to be passed from one set of abusers to another.
Arya also approached, observing silently. "What do you think we should do with them?" she asked, keeping some distance.
All of them were still wearing dirty clothes. They were terrified of this new group of people.
They probably thought they were just more bandits, although the physical build of all the Arcticans as warriors suggested otherwise. Because of that, they had begun wearing common cloaks to avoid appearing too obvious. Even so, they could still be mistaken for bandits.
Jon observed the three women with a cold gaze. He also saw they were somewhat injured, but nothing serious enough for him to use his magic. He could even heal the injuries of the woman who had lost her life, but even if they tried to save her, her mind was broken. She was destined to take her own life.
"We need to take them somewhere safe..." Jon murmured.
"There should be the county in central Kaeth. The war could not have reached there..." Barristan approached. He stepped forward and looked at one of the women. "Can you tell me if the county was also struck by the war?" he asked.
Despite their fear, the women looked at one another. "It wasn't affected by the war, but they forbade refugees from entering the place. We were condemned to remain here, completely exposed to the bandits," one of them murmured.
Jon became thoughtful at that.
The county was one of the only safer parts of that region. There were knights there, along with large apple orchards, but it seemed they did not want outsiders in the area.
Jon remained thoughtful about it until he reached a conclusion.
"Fine, we'll take these women there. Put proper clothes on them, find some in the camp, along with anything important. We need every piece of steel, every arrow, and all available supplies, and burn the bodies," Jon said while approaching some of the bandits' dogs, who wagged their tails and practically begged for affection from him, completely different from when they had been murderous animals against their own masters.
The bandits used those dogs for hunting and also for guarding camps, which was smart. After all, dogs could sense any strange approach. What they had not expected was a powerful warg approaching them. It was easy for Jon to control the dogs and make the bandits lower their guard because of it.
The group began working through the camp, searching for better blades, since they were lacking weapons at the moment. Even if they did not take much, they would at least increase their stockpiles and perhaps find some gold.
Jon walked through the camp to calm the horses, which were somewhat frightened. There were at least ten horses.
"We're taking the horses..." Jon said, and he noticed Lancelot looking at him as if he were about to say something like: 'My king, but we already have horses.'
But Jon shook his head. "We cannot end the suffering of the Riverlands and then leave without anyone to take care of this place. That is why I intend to build a force within one or two moons before we head to the Westerlands," Jon said.
He knew there were rumors about a group called the Brotherhood Without Banners. But it was a group with, at most, thirty people. Jon wanted to do more than that. That land needed brave people fighting for the good of its people, otherwise many more would suffer.
The group soon began burning the bodies and finishing the looting of the camp before heading northwest, where the county was located.
"Jon, I was thinking... wouldn't that become a problem?" Arya mounted her horse beside him while they began moving out of the forests and onto some roads, putting on hoods to hide their faces.
She was talking about the army coming north, although it would take a long time to arrive. "I've been thinking about that. Maybe I can create discord between the Lannisters and the Freys," Jon seemed thoughtful.
If he managed to divide the two, most of the Frey army would become much more vulnerable to attacks within the Riverlands. He could manipulate one of the ravens. After all, he had some of Tywin's letters and could try to replicate the handwriting and even the final seal.
Jon had brought an exclusive box for that purpose, with several plates to place wax on and apply while creating a letter. He had an exact copy of every important house for that, more than twenty signet seals.
Obviously, he had already expected to do something like this and had studied each of the seals of Westeros many years ago while keeping animals in Westeros during his sea voyages and visiting every house, only to, through his detailed memory, recreate the designs and apply them onto the small objects used to seal letters.
With communication completely disrupted and ravens no longer flying to their destinations throughout the realm, Jon had control over that and could even manipulate the war with false letters.
As they advanced, while he talked with Arya and listened to her opinion, he also glanced at the women riding among the horses taken from the camp.
They were still trembling and deeply frightened, but they knew the group no longer had any intentions toward them.
As they passed along the roadside, they heard movement. Those people had nowhere to run because they had immediately hidden beside the road while the group advanced at a moderate pace.
There were two families fleeing the war. Jon pressed his lips together.
There was war in almost every corner of Westeros now. No matter where it was in Westeros, people who had nothing to do with the conflict were suffering.
They seemed to shrink back, but they had nowhere left to flee when they saw a group of more than thirty riders advancing.
But Jon stopped, raising his hand for the others to do the same when he reached the line where those people were hiding.
He himself controlled all the horses to stop while his eyes turned toward the two families among the trees.
"Come out. I know there are seven of you, two married couples and three children," Jon said in a commanding tone.
They all immediately appeared while the Royal Guard and the others looked in that direction, watching the trembling people emerge from the trees. There was nowhere left to run now that they had been discovered.
One of the men, extremely thin, stepped forward. "My lord, please... we are only peasants fleeing the war. We have nothing," he already assumed Jon and his men wanted something from them.
But Jon raised a hand, stopping the man from continuing.
"I don't want your things. But may I know your name, the names of your wives, and your children?" Jon spoke in a calm tone, almost as if speaking to a wounded animal to show he was not there to hurt them.
"I am Harwin, my lord. My wife is Mya and this is our son, Ben. They are Tob, his wife Lanna, and the girls are Elie and Serra." The man said each of their names. He waited to see Jon's reaction and that of all those men, but the hooded leader hiding his face seemed thoughtful about them, not hostile.
"May we know who you are or whom you serve?" he broke the silence again with the question.
"We serve no one, not for now. We are only observing the Riverlands while also trying to help everyone we find along the way. Tell me, where are you from? Where did you come from and where do you intend to go?"
"We are from a small village farther south, near Ramsford, my lord. The soldiers from the northern armies passed through first... then came the bandits." His voice grew heavier. "They took everything we had. Burned homes, killed people. We've been fleeing for moons since then, searching for shelter and another place to start over. We were trying to reach somewhere near the Kingdom of the North. They said it was still safe there."
The man answered while Jon seemed thoughtful. "I presume you first went to Kaeth. I heard there is a county there."
"Yes, my lord. We went there first, but we couldn't even get close. Men on horseback with weapons drove us away and threatened us. Some said horrible things, even asking if we wanted to lend them our wives for a few apples..." he muttered with anger and resentment.
Jon sighed irritably. War was nothing more than people looting and raping all the time, no matter the side.
No matter. We'll deal with it, he decided.
"How about coming with us? We're heading there anyway, and we might be more convincing, you know?" Jon asked.
"But they..." the man tried to object, knowing he could be driven away again or perhaps suffer something even worse this time.
"Don't worry about that. I heard the Arctican king sent a raven to the men who oversee the county," Jon said while they looked at each other.
"The Arctican king?"
"Yes. He threatened the man in charge, saying he would hunt them down if they did not shelter some people. Maybe you'll have some luck along with these women," Jon suggested, pointing behind the horses where three women wearing cloaks were being guided on horseback.
"I would also like you to point out the horsemen who threatened you..." Jon added.
They exchanged glances. "You would do that for us?" the thin man asked.
"Of course. We're already heading there anyway. But you'll have to ride the horses."
"But no one here knows how to ride horses, my lord."
Jon merely displayed a smile. "Don't worry about that. These horses are quite gentle," he suggested. "You just need to stay on top of them. They have saddles, so it isn't difficult. And the children can ride with the adults," he said.
The man returned to the others, exchanging a few words before coming back to Jon. "It's true that the bandits are heading north, is it more dangerous there?" he asked.
"Yes. Everyone is migrating farther north because there is less left to loot amid all this chaos. And it isn't safe for you to wander around like this. If we were bandits, the way you're traveling so openly, you would have met a horrible end," Jon said.
"Please, take us with you," the man decided while Jon nodded.
"Of course. Come on, men, mount the horses," Jon said.
The group continued riding forward while Jon used his warg bond to guide the riderless horses and those carrying the women. The empty horses stopped in front of the families.
The horses themselves began kneeling down so it would be easier for the refugees to mount them while they stared in shock at the four horses.
"Go on. Put the children on them. They're trained horses," Jon said.
They quickly did so. The horses stood back up moments later without needing any help while Jon returned to the front of the column.
"That was quite decent of you back there," Barristan Selmy commented beside him.
"We need to take people somewhere safe. It's nothing compared to the enormous number of victims of these damned wars, but at least these are ten people we can save until the war ends. That already means something," Jon said.
"Your father would do the same, you know? He always cared about the common people," Barristan Selmy said in a melancholic tone.
"I heard about that and even saw it. I saw him walking through common towns, through marketplaces, collecting money, while the Kingsguard, especially Ser Arthur, hid nearby disguised as a common man behind the prince to protect him... Meanwhile, he took all the money he earned and gave it to orphans or the needy."
"I know you are quite ruthless with many people, but there is a lot of Rhaegar in you, there is no doubt about that," Barristan Selmy said while Jon merely nodded.
Whoever his father was or whatever he had done no longer mattered now. Even though his father had made mistakes and done good things, his father was still his father. Jon was Jon, and Westeros was now his people.
It was, in fact, his responsibility to take care of those people, even if they were only a dozen among hundreds of thousands suffering throughout those lands.
The group advanced and finally arrived in Kaeth, encountering two mountains in the middle of the territory, with only a few rivers obstructing the way while they had to go around several bridges by taking a much longer route, but Jon had different plans.
Jon had just finished writing a letter and attaching it to a raven, with Arctic's own symbol pressed into the wax sealing the letter, when Barristan and Lancelot approached with a map.
Arya stood beside Jon, using a whetstone herself to sharpen the new sword.
There, everyone had to fend for themselves. No squires, no other men to do such work for them. Even Jon did not allow anyone to touch his bastard sword of common iron. He personally maintained it himself.
"Your Majesty, perhaps we can pass through a route farther north to cross the two mountain ranges," Lancelot approached, showing the map to Jon.
Marked on it, the county lay behind two mountains, somewhat hidden from the war. That was why the county, despite not belonging to House Kaeth, had remained mostly untouched, though the minor noble lord overseeing those lands had little intention of helping others.
Jon looked at the map, but that route would be far more difficult.
"Don't worry. I'll go ahead along with you two and a few others. I'll start creating bridges so none of those people will see my abilities. We can go around here and move much faster than going north," Jon said while the men nodded.
Jon saw Arya stop sharpening the sword as her eyes turned white.
She was inside Nymeria, who was also running through the Riverlands at that moment. Jon had placed two direwolves alongside Nymeria to roam and gather information.
Arya blinked a few times before looking at Jon. "Nymeria found a cathedral farther south. There are septons taking care of some refugees and distributing food and water there," Arya said.
Jon became thoughtful upon hearing that. There would be no way to go there before taking those people to the county, but he also could not leave the county inaccessible to those people if they wished to venture farther north.
Even giving them a safer route, since the traditional roads were becoming increasingly dangerous.
No one would be too shocked if bridges started appearing out of nowhere, right?
Map:
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