NOVEL NEXT Chapter 27: Iron Resolve
Chapter 27: Iron Resolve
The Riverlands were a patchwork of scars and whispers. The bold raid on Ashemark had ignited a flame of defiance in some and stoked the fires of fear in others. Tywin Lannister's brutal counterattacks left villages smoldering, their survivors bearing tales of ruthless efficiency and unrelenting cruelty. Though Ivar Sunblode had struck a significant blow, he now faced the crushing weight of his choices.
At Sunblode Isle, preparations for the next phase of the campaign were in full swing. The docks hummed with activity as new ships were outfitted for war, and the sound of swords clashing in the training yards filled the air. Ivar knew the battle for the Riverlands was far from over.
A Council of War
Ivar's council convened in the great hall, its members seated around a table laden with maps and reports. The atmosphere was tense, the room dimly lit by flickering torches.
Roland Emberhill leaned forward, pointing to a map of the Riverlands. "Tywin's forces are concentrated along the western border. His recent raids have pushed some of the smaller houses to the brink. If we don't act soon, they'll either defect or crumble."
"And if we act rashly?" Duncan Greenfield countered. "We risk stretching our forces too thin, giving Tywin an opening to strike deeper into our lands."
Timothy Sunrise smirked, flipping a dagger between his fingers. "We've already kicked the lion's tail. Might as well keep swinging before it bites us."
Lysa Blackthorne, seated near the head of the table, tapped a finger against the reports in front of her. "Tywin's retaliations are deliberate. He's not just attacking at random—he's targeting houses that he knows are wavering. If we can predict his next move, we can counter it."
Ivar nodded, his gaze fixed on the map. "He's testing us, looking for weaknesses. But he's also exposing his own vulnerabilities. The more he moves, the more we learn about his strategy. Roland, how quickly can we reinforce the western border?"
"Two weeks, with proper coordination," Roland replied.
"Make it one," Ivar said firmly. "We need to show the lords that we can protect them. Duncan, I want you to visit the smaller houses personally. Remind them of the Accord's strength and offer whatever resources they need."
"And what about Tywin's next move?" Lysa asked.
Ivar's eyes gleamed. "We'll make sure he regrets it."
The Shadow of War
The days that followed were marked by relentless activity. At Sunblode Isle, the forges burned day and night as blacksmiths worked to equip new soldiers. Enhanced troops drilled tirelessly, their speed and precision pushing the limits of human capability.
In the western borderlands, Roland's forces moved swiftly to bolster defenses. Villages that had been abandoned during Tywin's raids were repopulated, their people reassured by the presence of Sunblode's banners.
Duncan Greenfield's mission to rally the smaller houses proved more challenging. At each castle he visited, he found lords torn between loyalty to the Accord and fear of Lannister reprisals.
At House Darry, a modest keep near the Trident, Duncan sat across from Lord Darry, a middle-aged man with a gaunt face and tired eyes.
"I want to believe in the Accord," Darry said, his voice tinged with weariness. "But my people are starving. Tywin's raids have taken everything from us—our crops, our livestock, even our hope."
Duncan placed a hand on the man's shoulder. "Hope isn't something Tywin can take, my lord. The Accord stands because we refuse to let fear dictate our fate. House Sunblode will send grain to your villages and troops to protect them. All we ask is that you hold the line with us."
Darry hesitated, then nodded slowly. "If Sunblode keeps its promises, Darry will keep its oaths."
Tywin's Gambit
As the Riverlands worked to rebuild, Tywin Lannister made his next move. A force of 5,000 men, led by Ser Addam Marbrand, crossed the Red Fork and marched toward Harrenhal. The ruined castle was a strategic prize, and its control would give Tywin a foothold deep in Riverland territory.
At Riverrun, the news arrived via a frantic messenger. Hoster Tully summoned Ivar and the other lords to the great hall, his expression grim.
"If Harrenhal falls to the Lannisters, the Accord is finished," Hoster said, slamming a fist on the table. "We must act now."
"Easier said than done," Walder Frey muttered. "Harrenhal is a ruin. Defending it will cost more than it's worth."
"It's not about the castle," Brynden Blackfish said sharply. "It's about what it represents. If we let Tywin take Harrenhal, he'll use it as a base to launch further attacks. We can't let that happen."
Ivar rose from his seat, his gaze steady. "We won't. I'll take a force to Harrenhal and reinforce its defenses. If Tywin wants it, he'll have to pay dearly for it."
"And if Marbrand brings the full strength of his force?" Tytos Blackwood asked.
"Then we'll remind him why the Riverlands are not to be trifled with," Ivar replied.
The Defense of Harrenhal
Ivar arrived at Harrenhal with a force of 3,000 men, including a contingent of enhanced soldiers. The castle, though ruined, was still a formidable defensive position, its towering walls and labyrinthine corridors providing natural advantages.
Roland Emberhill joined him, his armor gleaming in the pale light of dawn. "This place gives me the chills," Roland admitted, glancing up at the scorched towers. "But it's as good a place as any to make a stand."
"We don't need to win," Ivar said. "We just need to hold long enough to bleed Marbrand's forces dry."
As the Lannister army approached, Ivar's soldiers prepared for battle. Archers lined the walls, their bows trained on the advancing enemy, while infantry reinforced the gates with timber and iron. The enhanced soldiers, clad in blackened armor, moved with eerie precision as they took up key positions.
The first assault came at midday. Marbrand's forces stormed the walls with ladders and battering rams, their war cries echoing across the fields. Ivar's archers rained arrows down on the attackers, cutting swathes through their ranks, but the Lannisters pressed on.
At the main gate, Roland fought alongside the infantry, his blade flashing as he cut down one attacker after another. Beside him, an enhanced soldier held the line, his movements fluid and deadly.
"Hold!" Roland shouted, his voice rising above the chaos. "Do not let them through!"
From the battlements, Ivar watched the battle unfold, his mind racing. "They're testing us," he said to Lysa, who stood beside him. "Marbrand is waiting for us to overextend."
"Then we don't give him the chance," Lysa replied.
A Turning Point
As night fell, the Lannister forces pulled back to regroup. Inside Harrenhal, the defenders tended to their wounded and prepared for the next assault.
Timothy joined Ivar on the battlements, his usual smirk replaced by a grim expression. "They'll come harder tomorrow," he said. "Marbrand won't let us rest for long."
"I know," Ivar replied. "But we've already cost them more than they expected. If we hold, it'll send a message—to Tywin and to the Accord."
"And if we fall?" Timothy asked.
Ivar's gaze was cold. "Then we make sure Marbrand pays dearly for every inch he takes."
The Night Raid
That night, Timothy led a daring raid on the Lannister camp. Under the cover of darkness, a small team of enhanced soldiers infiltrated the enemy lines, setting fire to supply wagons and cutting down sentries.
As the camp erupted into chaos, Timothy returned with a triumphant grin. "That'll slow them down," he said.
"It's not enough to slow them," Ivar said. "We need to break them."
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