Artys Arryn POV
The Vale was breathtaking. It reminded me of Switzerland.
The valleys of the Vale are beautiful, a perfect spot for a honeymoon.
Deep green valleys stretched between towering mountains, mist clinging to the peaks.
We had stopped briefly for lunch and rest. The men were scattered, eating or tending to the horses.
"NO! For the Seven's sake, how many times must I say it? The gods are fair. They would never commit injustice!" I heard the angry shouts of Lord Royce from behind.
I glanced back. He and Soryn were arguing again.
"Wait, so you're telling me the gods don't do injustice? What if a warrior like the Mountain or Kalen does something really bad, demands a trial by combat, and wins? They walk free despite the crime. Is that what you call justice?" Soryn argued back.
I could hear them clearly even though I was at least twenty meters away, thanks to the two of them shouting at the top of their lungs.
The rest of the men seemed to enjoy their bickering. Free entertainment on the road.
These two had been at each other's throats since morning. The topic changed, but the heat never did.
"My lord, this must be your first real look at the Vale," Lord Grafton said as he rode up beside me with two of his household guards.
"Technically no, since I was born here, but I was an infant. So yes, this feels like the first time," I replied, admiring the view.
After all, I would count them as among the gods' greatest creations. Many would agree, and whoever doesn't is probably blind or gay.
"Though I must say, the air here is far fresher than King's Landing," I added.
Of course it would be fresh this is a valley full of trees, while King's Landing is full of roads covered in human and horse shit.
Grafton gave a short, bitter laugh. "King's Landing should be called the Shithole of the Realm."
So he does hate the Baratheons for his father's and brother's deaths during the siege of Gulltown in Robert's Rebellion.
But Gulltown wasn't a utopia either.
It had its own problems, just not on the scale of King's Landing. But then again, Gulltown was smaller than King's Landing, in fact, the smallest among the five cities of Westeros.
"I didn't mean to insult the royal house—I was—I mean—" he tried to cover it up.
Looks like he'd realized what he just said.
After all, insulting royalty is one of the highest treasons in the Seven Kingdoms.
"I agree, Lord Grafton. King's Landing is a shithole." I winked at him.
That seemed to relax him.
Well, it should be enough of a sign for him to know that I don't really mind any insults he throws at the royal household.
I shifted my focus again to the hills.
"The valleys are as dangerous as they are beautiful," Grafton said while taking a good look at the surroundings.
"Hill tribes?" I asked for confirmation, though I was sure that's what he meant.
"Yes. They've always been an eyesore for us Vale lords. They raid our villages and then run away before our men come. Cowards, that's what they are," Lord Grafton sighed.
I mean, we know. Or rather, I do. The map given by the Celestial contains every detail about the Vale where the resources lie and where the tribes hide.
But I'm not sharing that yet.
I need the hill tribes for now. If they attack enough nobles and cause real chaos, I can use it as an excuse to recruit more men without any backlash from the realm.
"My lord, I have a question that has been on my mind for a while, if I may—" Lord Grafton asked.
"Yes, you may," I said. What does he want to know? He seems pretty nervous.
"What is in the sealed letter that Lord Arryn gave to Lord Royce? I saw it during the feast, but even Lord Royce didn't know its contents," he stated.
"Only the Seven and my father know," I answered. "His instruction was to open this letter only when all the Vale lords are gathered at the Eyrie. That's likely why he sent ravens summoning everyone."
"My lord, the food is ready," I heard a voice from behind.
It was one of the servants who had come with us along with Lord Grafton.
An arrow slammed into the boy's neck with a wet thunk. His eyes widened in shock. He tried to speak, but only a gurgle came out as blood poured from the wound.
What the—
He collapsed, dead before he hit the ground.
For half a second, everything froze.
Then chaos erupted. Arrows were flying everywhere, men shouting, swords being drawn everything at once.
I am in trouble. A lot of trouble.
I looked at Lord Grafton. He looked back at me. Our eyes met, and we immediately knew what to do.
"AMBUSH! HILL TRIBES!" Lord Grafton roared.
A rain of arrows flew from the forest. Men screamed as shafts found flesh. One punched through a knight's chest. Another tore through a horse's throat.
Why does this scene feel familiar?
"AHHHH!" A man screamed in pain as one of the arrows pierced his chest, while the man next to him didn't even have the luxury to scream.
The arrow passed through his throat, probably tearing a large hole through it.
"Stay together! Shields up!" Yohn Royce bellowed as the men started forming a tight group.
"Get in formation!" Ser Robar Royce shouted.
He might be unreliable most of the time, but in fighting, you could bet your life savings on him , of course, if you have any, which you don't.
"Protect the young lord!" someone yelled amid the chaos. After all, if something happened to me, most of them were as good as dead.
Except maybe the lords and some noble-blood knights, but the rest, I don't think so.
I dashed toward my horse. Two Valyrian steel swords were tied to the saddle. I didn't want to lose them after all the trouble I went through to keep them.
I quickly mounted my horse. Most of our men had taken cover behind rocks, trees, or even horses. The rest had formed small groups and were using shields to protect themselfs form he arrows.
Five of my men were dead. And even some of the men who had taken cover seemed injured.
Fuck. Wasn't I supposed to know all this in advance? In my dreams, like those dragon dreams Targaryens used to get but better, because that was the promise that the celestial fuck made.
Had I made a deal with the devil?
An arrow passed right beside me. I felt a slight sting near my right ear. I touched it, and when I brought my hand in front of me, there was blood.
Double fuck.
I should have worn armor. Why the hell am I so stupid?
"MY LORD, TAKE COVER!" I heard my men shout.
Instinctively, I smacked the back of my horse and rushed toward them. The twenty meters felt like forever. I could hear my own heart pounding.
"Is he stupid? Who the fuck rides a horse in a volley of arrows?" I heard someone say as I charged on my bloody horse toward Lord Royce and his men.
The fucking main character.
Swish.
An arrow struck my horse in the eye. The animal screamed and bucked wildly. I tried to jump clear, but the fall came hard.
I will take back what I said.
"Aaegh!" I cried in pain. I should have just run toward the men instead of using the horse, but no—I had to act like a hero from a movie.
My ass was hurting from the impact.
"AHOOO! COME ON, BOYS! LET'S SHOW THESE BLOODY ANDAL SHITS SOME BLOOD!" a lord's shout came from the woods.
Two dozen men came rushing out of the woods. Some carried swords, others hammers.
I looked around, and there was a bow in the hands of one of the dead men. Looks like the poor man tried to shoot back but got killed before he could do anything.
Beside him, there was a quiver full of arrows, probably his. Thanks, man, for the weapon. I will put it to good use. I picked up the bow and the quiver and got into position.
"GLORY TO THE OLD GODS!" they howled.
"Fuck you and your gods," I muttered under my breath as I drew another arrow and pulled the bowstring with full force, targeting the bloody leader who had just shouted.
The arrow struck him right in the eye and he fell to the ground, but it didn't cause any fear among the attackers. They continued their advance.
"FOR THE GOLD!" shouted another one, probably the smartest among the attacking savages. At least he knows gold is the true god of the mortal realm—or the true god sits between a woman's legs.
I don't seem to recall where I've heard that phrase, but I know it was in the show. Whoever said it was a legend, I guess that's not what I should be thinking on the battlefield.
The bastards reached us and attacked the formation. Sounds of steel banging against each other could be heard.
I took my chance. Arrow after arrow, I fired them at those suckers.
"My lord, come with me. I will take you to safety," I heard Ser Jasper's voice. His armor was covered in blood. There were some bruises from the attacks, but mostly he was fine—no major injuries. The blood seemed to be of the enemies.
"There is no safe place, Ser. We are under attack. The only way to survive is to kill them," I said while taking another arrow from my quiver and pulling the bow, releasing it, taking down one of the two men who were fighting with Ser Robar Royce.
"MY LORD!" shouted Ser Jasper.
I looked back, and there was an ugly bastard about to swing a bloody axe at me.
But he stopped and fell to the ground. Behind him was Ser Robar with a sword in his hand, covered in blood and a smile on his face.
"Missed me, Jasper. You have become slow. Looks like the whores of King's Landing have sucked you dry," Ser Robar said with his usual funny face, which no one found funny.
"Will you two get to work? Stop your bullshit chitchat—we are in the middle of a battle," said Ser Lyn as he took down two men.
"How many of these fuckers are there?" he added while looking around.
"Does it even matter? What matters is we take them down before they take us down," I said, and with that, we began.
The three knights formed a circle around me, and we began our fight. They engaged with the attackers while I provided assistance with arrows.
I hope I don't run out of them because I am not really that good with other weapons.