Game of thrones: the Sunblode rise

Chapter 12: another step



The steady rhythm of marching boots echoed through the forest as Roland Emberhill led the Sunblode forces toward Redwater Cove. Smoke stained the sky in the distance, a dark reminder of the Ironborn's latest raid. Timothy Sunrise rode beside him, his usual smirk replaced by a grim determination.

"They're getting bolder," Roland said, his eyes scanning the treeline. "Burning villages, taking prisoners—this isn't just a raid. They're trying to make a statement."

"They'll regret it," Timothy replied, adjusting the straps of his armor. "They've grown too used to soft targets and weak defenses. They think everyone will roll over and let them plunder."

"Let's hope they still think that," Roland muttered. "Arrogance will make them sloppy."

As the force drew closer to the cove, Roland raised his hand, signaling the column to halt. The two hundred Sunblode soldiers fanned out, their shields gleaming in the faint light of the setting sun. Fifty enhanced soldiers stood at the rear, their faces expressionless, their movements precise.

Timothy dismounted, gesturing for five of the enhanced soldiers to follow him. "I'll scout ahead. I want to see what we're dealing with before we make our move."

Roland nodded, his expression grim. "Be quick. The longer we wait, the more damage they'll do."

Timothy moved like a shadow through the forest, his enhanced soldiers following silently behind him. As they crested a small ridge, the beach came into view.

The scene was chaotic. Ironborn warriors milled about the sand, laughing and drinking as they divided their spoils. At least a hundred raiders surrounded a cluster of fires, their longships pulled ashore nearby. Beyond the fires, a small group of villagers sat bound and gagged, their eyes wide with fear as Ironborn guards loomed over them.

Timothy crouched low, his sharp eyes taking in every detail. The longships were packed tightly together, their sails furled, their prows painted with the kraken sigil of House Greyjoy. The raiders were clearly confident, their weapons piled haphazardly beside the fires.

"They're careless," one of the enhanced soldiers whispered.

"They're overconfident," Timothy corrected. "And we'll use that against them." He motioned for the group to pull back.

When they returned to the main column, Roland was waiting, his arms crossed. "Well?"

"A hundred raiders, maybe more," Timothy said. "They've set up camp on the beach. The longships are still intact, but they're grouped together. If we move quickly, we can destroy them before the raiders know what's happening."

"And the villagers?" Roland asked.

"Still alive," Timothy replied, his jaw tightening. "But if we don't act soon, they won't be."

Roland turned to Ivar's second-in-command with a frown. "What's your plan?"

"We split our forces," Timothy said. "I'll take a team of enhanced soldiers to set fire to the longships. The rest of the troops will attack from the treeline, driving the raiders toward the water. With the ships burning, they'll have nowhere to run."

"It's risky," Roland said, his brow furrowed. "If they spot you before the fires are lit, the whole plan falls apart."

"They won't spot us," Timothy said, his voice sharp. "The enhanced soldiers can move faster and quieter than anyone else. Trust me, we've got this."

Roland studied him for a moment, then nodded. "All right. We move at dawn."

When the first light of morning broke over the cove, the Sunblode forces were in position. Roland stood at the edge of the treeline, his sword drawn, his soldiers arrayed in disciplined ranks behind him. Further along the beach, Timothy and his team crept toward the longships, their movements silent and deliberate.

The Ironborn were still gathered around their fires, their laughter carrying on the breeze. They hadn't posted sentries.

Timothy signaled for his team to spread out. Each soldier carried a flask of oil and a bundle of rags. They moved quickly, dousing the ships in silence, their enhanced senses allowing them to navigate the maze of ropes and beams without making a sound.

The first fire began with a soft whoosh, the flames quickly spreading along the hull of the nearest ship. Within moments, the blaze leapt from one ship to the next, the inferno lighting up the dawn.

Shouts of alarm rang out from the raiders as they scrambled to contain the fire.

"Now!" Roland roared, raising his sword high.

The Sunblode soldiers surged from the treeline, their shields locked in a gleaming wall. The Ironborn, caught off guard, scrambled to form a defense as the disciplined ranks of Sunblode warriors crashed into them.

The clash of steel and the roar of battle filled the air. The Ironborn fought with savage ferocity, their axes cleaving into shields and armor. But the Sunblode soldiers held their ground, their training and discipline giving them the edge.

Timothy watched the chaos unfold as he and his team moved to secure the prisoners. The Ironborn guards were distracted by the fire and the advancing army, leaving the villagers lightly guarded.

"Move fast," Timothy ordered, his voice low.

The enhanced soldiers struck with precision, cutting down the guards and freeing the bound villagers. Some of the captives, emboldened by their sudden freedom, grabbed discarded weapons and joined the fight.

On the beach, Roland waded into the fray, his sword flashing as he cut through raider after raider. "Hold the line!" he bellowed, his voice booming over the din of battle.

The Ironborn were losing ground. Trapped between the flames and the advancing Sunblode forces, their cohesion broke. Some tried to flee into the forest, only to be cut down by the enhanced soldiers lying in wait.

Timothy joined Roland at the front, his twin daggers flashing as he dispatched another raider. "They're breaking!" Timothy shouted.

"Press the attack!" Roland roared.

The final moments of the battle were a rout. The remaining Ironborn threw down their weapons and surrendered, their leader falling to his knees before Roland.

By the time the sun fully rose, the beach was littered with bodies, the once-proud longships reduced to smoldering husks. The surviving villagers wept as they embraced their rescuers, their gratitude evident in every word and gesture.

Roland stood at the water's edge, his armor spattered with blood. Timothy approached, his smirk returning as he wiped his daggers clean.

"Well," Timothy said, "that was satisfying."

Roland shot him a look. "It was brutal. Necessary, but brutal."

"They'll think twice before coming back," Timothy replied. "That's what matters."

Roland nodded, though his expression remained grim. "We need to send word to Riverrun. The Tullys need to know what happened here."

"We'll send a raven as soon as we return," Timothy said.

When the Sunblode forces returned to the island, they were met with cheers and applause. Ivar stood at the gates, his expression calm but pleased as he watched the soldiers march into the village.

"You've done well," Ivar said, addressing Roland and Timothy. "The Tullys are already singing your praises."

Timothy smirked. "It's not every day you burn a fleet of Ironborn ships to ash."

"This victory will make us a target," Ivar said. "The Ironborn will want revenge, and the other lords of the Riverlands will see us as a growing threat. We need to be ready."

"We'll be ready," Roland said firmly.

Ivar's gaze turned cold. "See that we are. Because this is just the beginning."

That evening, Ivar convened his council to discuss the implications of the battle. The great hall was alive with the crackle of the hearth as the advisors gathered around the map-laden table.

"This victory cements our reputation," Ivar said. "But it also makes us vulnerable. The Ironborn won't forgive what we've done, and neither will the lords who fear our growing power."

"What's the next move?" Lysa asked, her tone measured.

"We strengthen our defenses," Ivar replied. "Build more ships, train more soldiers, and continue to fortify the island. But more importantly, we expand our alliances. The more allies we have, the harder it will be for anyone to move against us."

"And the Tullys?" Timothy asked.

"They'll want to capitalize on this victory," Ivar said. "We'll let them—for now. But make no mistake, this is our victory. When the time comes, they'll see that House Sunblode is more than just an ally. We're a force to be reckoned with."

The council nodded, their determination mirroring Ivar's. The battle at Redwater Cove was over, but the war for dominance had only just begun.


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