Chapter 50: Chapter 50: The Northern Counterattack
The archers and crossbowmen of the North found their weapons ineffective against the thick hides of the Stoneborn. The Northern cavalry's steeds recoiled in fear at the sight of the unicorns, causing them to falter in battle. From atop the unicorns, the Stoneborn slingers and archers launched their attacks, raining down stones and arrows upon the Northerners. Some cavalrymen were struck by heavy stones, their heads split open and bloodied, while warriors from the Northern mountain clans fell, mercilessly slain by the Stoneborn archers.
The drummers perched on the unicorns' backs beat their war drums incessantly, as if mocking the Northerners.
Among the Northern nobility, uncertainty spread. Earl Macy Seven spoke up, "Lord Eddard, the Stoneborn's unicorns are too ferocious. We should retreat and regroup!"
"No!" Eddard knew that the moment he ordered a retreat, the Northern army would fall into chaos. The Stoneborn would emerge from the caves, ravines, and forests to pursue them relentlessly.
Galbert Glover interjected, "But, Lord Eddard, if we do not retreat, how do we stand against these unicorns? Our warriors are fearless, but our horses refuse to approach these creatures. Their scent, their cries—they terrify our steeds! How can we fight like this?"
Earl Howwood added, "Indeed! You can see it yourself, Lord Eddard. Our archers' volleys do nothing to these unicorns. They seem impervious to blades and arrows alike."
Eddard, mounted on his warhorse, gave the order. "Command the archers and crossbowmen to target the Stoneborn atop the unicorns—especially the drummers. That cursed drumming is driving me mad!"
The command was swiftly relayed. The Northern archers, under the directives of their noble lords, adjusted their aim and unleashed a deadly volley at the enemy riders.
Previously, the Stoneborn slingers and archers had laughed wildly as they attacked from their high vantage points. But as the Northern arrows rained down upon them, their laughter turned to screams. Many were pierced by arrows, falling from their mounts like ragdolls.
From the chaos, Winterfell's sharpshooter Ferran stood behind a massive boulder, his bowstring taut. Every arrow he loosed found its mark, felling a foe with each shot. Beside him, Theon Greyjoy matched his skill arrow for arrow.
Eddard's guard, Dawson, roared as he cut down enemies left and right. Even the mighty warriors of the Stoneborn struggled against the force of Dawson's thirty-pound battle axe.
Meanwhile, Braavosi Water Dancer Syrio Forel moved like a specter through the battlefield. He evaded a Stoneborn warrior's strike with ghostly grace, slipping his slender assassin's blade into the enemy's throat. The warrior let out a choked scream before collapsing.
A unicorn charged at Syrio Forel. Like a serpent, he wove around its deadly horn and ducked under its massive legs. Pressing a hand against its rough hide, he vaulted onto its back with lightning speed.
The Stoneborn slingers and archers on the unicorn never realized he was among them until it was too late. In swift succession, Syrio dispatched them with his thin blade.
Seizing the reins, Syrio forced the unicorn to charge into the ranks of the Stoneborn. Those who failed to leap aside were trampled into the mud. Eventually, he steered his mount straight into another unicorn, its rider screaming in terror. The two beasts collided with a bone-shaking impact. In the chaos, Syrio leaped gracefully from the saddle, landing lightly on his feet, while the other Stoneborn were thrown from their mounts. Some were crushed beneath the weight of the unicorns, while the survivors were swiftly executed by the Northern mountain warriors.
With the Stoneborn atop the unicorns systematically targeted by Northern archers, the battle quickly shifted. The unicorns, now without riders, began to flee in panic. The Northern army, sensing the shift in momentum, sounded the horns of counterattack.
Dominic roared as he charged the enemy lines. Jon Snow, summoning his courage, rushed forward as well.
Seeing the tide turn, the commander of the Driftwood Banner, realizing the battle was lost, chose to flee. More than a dozen unicorns thundered away, shaking the ground and raising clouds of dust in their wake.
With the unicorns retreating, the Northern cavalry regained their morale. They mounted once more, launching devastating charges against the scattered enemy. The Stoneborn who failed to escape were either cut down by the cavalry or captured by the advancing foot soldiers.
When the battle ended, Dominic and Theon stood bloodied, their armor stained crimson. Eddard was surprised to see even Jon Snow's chainmail speckled with blood.
"Jon," Eddard said, "I brought you to Skagos to assist Dominic—to tend to ravens and letters. Why did you charge into battle?"
Jon responded, "Lord Eddard, if Dominic can charge, why can't I?"
"Dominic is a grown man. You are still as green as fresh grass," Eddard chided.
Winterfell's captain of the guard, Jory Cassel, approached, dragging a young Stoneborn in chains. "Lord Eddard, Jon may have acted rashly, but do not be too harsh on him—he has captured a prisoner! Here, look. This is Jon's prize."
Eddard examined the young Stoneborn, clad in exquisite plate armor. His arm was wounded, blood soaking the steel. The boy looked no older than fifteen. No wonder Jon had managed to capture him. But what caught Eddard's eye was the sigil on the boy's chest—a leafless driftwood emblem. Common Stoneborn warriors rarely bore sigils, but Eddard recalled the Stoneborn guide, Nondar, mentioning that the leafless driftwood was the sigil of House Stern.
Realization struck Eddard. "Who are you? This is the sigil of House Stern. What is your relation to their chieftain?"
The young Stoneborn spat at Eddard in defiance. Jory Cassel answered with a swift punch, sending the boy sprawling in the dirt.
Nondar whispered to Eddard, "My lord, your bastard has achieved a great feat. This boy is no ordinary captive—he is Borrison Stern, son of Chief Billy Stern. He is the heir to Driftwood Hall."
House Stern was among the most powerful clans of Skagos, rivaled only by House Crowl of the Stone Kings and House Magnar of Kingshall. Now, Jon Snow had captured their heir. A glimmer of hope flickered in Eddard's mind.
As the realization spread, Dominic Bolton, Benford Tallhart, Ferran, Syrio, and a group of young warriors gathered around Jon, offering their congratulations.
Theon, standing nearby, scoffed. "Snow just got lucky. He captured an injured boy."
Eddard replied, "Theon, on Skagos, nobles are rare. And more importantly, the heir of Driftwood Hall is no mere boy."
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