Chapter 262: "Persuasion by Reason" (Part II)
The back of her head struck the wall with a dull thud. The man's face was nearly pressed against Asha's, his foul breath washing over her; she could even see the yellowed grain of his teeth. But the woman had already silently drawn her dirk as he approached. As the man shoved her against the wall, she pressed the blade against the vital spot beneath his belly.
The aggressor, just as he was preparing to tear at his prey's clothes, felt something prodding his crotch. Looking down, he saw a gleaming dirk leveled right at his manhood.
"Touch me once, and you'll never get the chance to use your cock again for the rest of your life."
Every Ironborn knew Asha was lethal with short blades, and not everyone was ready to cross the line and insult the long-ruling House Greyjoy. The madman who had intended to taste a woman of the Kraken found no support from those around him; more than half remained seated at the table. She gave the dirk a firm shove, and the man who had attacked her backed away helplessly.
Facing this listless crowd of Ironborn, Asha felt like the Daughter of the Kraken once more.
"Thinking of women even when death is at the door," another Ironborn mocked the cowardice of the man who had just retreated. He turned to Asha and spoke seriously: "Before you, your brother Theon, raised by Eddard Stark, also came here. We actually learned of the Kingsmoot from him. At the time, we thought it was a trick and a trap by the wolf pups, so we cursed him and sent him back to his master... but weren't you at Deepwood Motte with a thousand men? Robb Stark is still blocked here by us; who could possibly have the strength to capture you?"
"I also attended the Kingsmoot. After it ended, fearing the Crow's Eye would move against me as a 'threat' to his rule, I fled back to Deepwood Motte. I haven't had a thousand men for a long time." Asha truthfully explained how she was forced out of Deepwood Motte and cornered on the beach, failing to break out. Of course, she didn't mention that the force attacking Deepwood Motte was a mob of peasants led by a single Night's Watchman. "Now, the Northmen have sent me with a proposal—lay down your arms and surrender the city before dark, and you will be given the chance to take the black."
Asha tossed the written document Egger had signed onto the wine-stained table before the weakened Ironborn.
No one touched the letter. The last literate man in Moat Cailin had died days ago.
"What good is a piece of paper? We want cheese, and meat."
"And weapons," an old man with a grey beard added. His left arm had been amputated, leaving only a stump. "Swords and axes. Aye, and bows—a hundred brand-new bows. And give us more men!"
"This is a document issued by the Lord Commander of Logistics for the Night's Watch. He is currently in the camp just a few miles to the north. I know what you're thinking—surrender now, and leave through the north gate to join the Night's Watch before the ten thousand bloodshot Northmen to the south, who have been blocked by you for weeks, come storming in. Once you wear the black, even Robb Stark will not turn his back on the Night's Watch just to kill you."
The bickering fell silent. No one knew any "Lord Commander of Logistics," but the title sounded like an important role within the Night's Watch, carrying significant weight. In truth, when Theon Greyjoy had come to propose surrender a week ago, many had been tempted. However, they held the Stark-raised son of Balon in contempt and feared the Northmen wouldn't honor the deal later... but the main reason was that they still harbored fantasies of reinforcement from the Iron Fleet.
Although Asha Greyjoy had deliberately downplayed her influence to Egger, claiming her uncle's crew wouldn't listen to her, there was no doubt—even as a woman, and even with the image of the "Valkyrie of the Iron Islands" shattered by her capture... in the eyes of the Ironborn, she, whom Balon Greyjoy had groomed as an heir, was far more important than the Theon Greyjoy who grew up in Winterfell.
"Ironborn do not surrender," a voice suddenly piped up.
"Ironborn do not surrender? Fine words. Go say them to my father." Asha gestured dismissively toward the paper. "The time left for you to consider is short. Our enemies to the north and south have coordinated; they will launch a general assault before dark."
"A threat?" A man stood up. He was large, with bulging eyes, a wide mouth, and skin as pale as a corpse. "Dagon Codd surrenders to no man."
"I am not your commander; I have no power to force anyone to surrender. But I must return before the wolf pups launch their final assault. Those willing to follow me, take the black, and live—come. Those intending to fight hundreds of Northmen attacking from both sides before dark—stay." Asha said irritably, "But if I may be so bold, how many fighting men do you have left? And do you have any idea what means the enemy intends to use against you?"
"Not many," another Codd replied while seated. It seemed even within the same family, there was no consensus. "No one knows the exact number, but the losses are heavy. Surrender... damn it, to hell with 'Ironborn do not surrender.' I'm willing to yield, but I hope to go home after laying down my arms, not wear black and fight Wildlings on that freezing Wall for the rest of my life. Can we not negotiate terms?"
(The Wildlings are right outside the walls now. If you don't surrender, they're the ones who will kill you,) Asha thought to herself, though she said something else: "If you wanted good treatment as prisoners, you should have surrendered the first day Robb Stark arrived at your gates! You've blocked him from his own home for this long, and now you want to talk terms?"
"Think of it another way," the one-armed elder suddenly spoke. "I hear the Night's Watch only has a few hundred men, mostly the old and the crippled. If dozens of us Ironborn warriors are sent to the Wall, we can just agree on a time to escape together. Head west—grab a boat along the coast of Ice Bay and flee back to the Islands. Where would they find the men to chase us?"
"That makes sense!"
"Aye, why didn't I think of that!"
Experience truly comes with age. The one-armed man's analysis sounded quite plausible and quickly gained support. The situation was moving in a favorable direction, and Asha breathed a sigh of relief... it seemed her words were having an effect. Though she vaguely knew the situation in the Gift was no longer what the old man believed, she had no intention of explaining.
This wasn't deception; it was merely benevolent omission.
"Plan to be prisoners first, then deserters? What a wretched idea!" Dagon Codd angrily drew his longsword. "Ralf Kenning is dead, so I am now the commander of Moat Cailin. I order that no one shall surrender! And you, Balon's little girl—after you were captured, how many times did the Northmen fuck you? Or should I ask how many men have had a turn? I don't want to hear it, but you're not going back. Either stay and fight beside us, or stay and sleep with us!"
She thought she might escape this ordeal, but in the end, it always came back to "fucking."
Asha was fed up. In an instant, her temper exploded just as it had countless times in her life—simply because she lacked that one thing between her legs, she could never do business or communicate like a normal man. No matter what she thought, said, or what the situation was, these men with brains full of semen could always relate things back to sex in a heartbeat... She was trying to save the lives of these Ironborn and her captured crew, yet some refused to be grateful!
It didn't matter if they refused to surrender; at worst, she would go back and tell the Night's Watchman that her persuasion had failed, then inform him that there weren't even two hundred defenders left in the Moat, considering it penance for her failure.
The trouble was that this fellow in front of her, whether drunk or just mad, didn't intend to let her leave.
Asha wasn't afraid to die, but she had no desire to be buried with these fools.
Her eyes flicked left and right. The Daughter of the Kraken noticed that not many seemed inclined to follow this second-in-command. She tightened her grip on her dirk and confirmed that the short axe on her shoulder strap was still in its familiar, reachable position, calculating the success rate of "taking action."
As a negotiator representing the enemy, a spokesperson suddenly becoming an assassin to attack the garrison commander would normally be a death sentence. But Asha's situation was different... she was a true Ironborn who had grown up on the Islands, well-trained, bearing the Greyjoy name and blood. Her status among the Ironborn was extremely high, while this Dagon Codd was from a minor house and was not an important figure himself.
If she could eliminate him instantly and then use intimidation to keep the other Codds in the room from acting... then she could persuade the rest to follow her out of the city and surrender...
As the killing intent rose, she quickly finalized her plan. Asha subtly tensed every muscle, intending to take his life in one move.
Suddenly, a massive crash and the crisp sound of shattering pottery erupted from outside, followed by a startled cry from the lookout atop the tower: "Fire!"
"Wildfire. An oil that burns under any condition." Asha, in her state of high nervous tension, was startled by the boom, but she immediately recalled the warning the Night's Watchman had given her. She shrugged. "You'd best go look. If it hit one of the towers and you ignore it, it'll burn the whole thing down..."
Several men stood up, whether to fight the fire or simply to see. Dagon Codd's attention was also drawn toward the window. Asha realized this was the perfect moment. She raised her dirk and lunged at the new commander of Moat Cailin like a viper.
But she was still one step too late.
Before the echo of the crash outside had faded, a muffled squelch sounded inside the room. The tip of a sword erupted through the chest of the "brave" Dagon Codd. The one-armed elder who had spoken earlier, taking advantage of the distraction, had run the current commander of Moat Cailin through the heart from behind.
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