Scions of the Cruel King

Vickon Greyjoy

The raven arrived one stormy night, as the Storm God tried to batter his way into Pyke's halls. Vickon Greyjoy, Lord Reaper of Pyke, Son Of Salt and Stone, Captain of The Drowned God's Watery Tomb and Lord of the Iron Islands was sat speaking with his oldest brother Maron, and his two oldest sons Devon and Harren when Maester Godrick entered the room, huffing and panting as he was wont to do. "My lords," the maester said. "Pray forgive me, but a raven has come from King's Landing bearing the royal sigil." Vickon held out his hand for the letter, and once the maester had placed it there, sure enough there was the three headed red Targaryen dragon a field of black, the royal sigil. He wondered briefly what the King wanted with him, since he had sent the raven some moons ago informing the King of the suspicious activities of the Redwynes, there had been no more correspondence.

He broke the seal and read the letter which was written in the Grand Maester's flowery script. "It seems Lords Redwyne and Florent have declared a rebellion against the roses of Highgarden." Vickon said somewhat smugly, damned Greenlanders always at war. "It appears Lord Redwyne has forgotten that the roses are protected by the King, and as such we have been instructed to take the Shield Islands before they have the chance to muster their fully naval power."

There was silence for a moment as all those gathered in the room took time to consider what this meant for them. Eventually Maron spoke, his brother the Lord Captain of the Iron Fleet, a hardened warrior spoke in a gruff voice. "Well why not stay out of this war as we have done when the Tarlings invaded? The Greenlanders can rebel all they wish, it is no cause for us to complain. Besides the King on the Iron Throne has the Velaryon and the royal fleet to help shore up the Reach should the need arrive. I see no reason for us to have to shed our blood to help some Greenlanders."

Vickon's eldest son and heir Devon however had a different opinion. "Why should we not take part in this fight? The king has asked us to assist that must mean he has some sort of need of us; otherwise he would have let us be, just as his father let us be during the first two Tarling Wars. I say the banners should be called and we should sail for the Shield Islands with our full strength. We may even get what was once ours, if we fight for the King."

Vickon heard the sense in what his son said, the Targaryens had left his people alone since the conquest, when Vickon's great grandfather and namesake had been chosen as Lord Reaper of Pyke and the Iron Islands by the lords of the Islands. Even when their treacherous kin, the Tarlings as the lords and smallfolk alike were calling them had rebelled, they had been left alone. But the King had written to Vickon now, after he had taken it upon himself to alert the king to a potential threat to royal security. Perhaps they could benefit from this, perhaps the Shield Islands could become theirs again. "What do you think Harren?" Vickon asked his second son, the on whom he saw the most of himself in.

His youngest son, always so calm and collected but with a fire in him that once ignited burnt hotter than the sun, took time to consider his words, before he said. "I agree with Devon father, we must attack the Shield Islands and show the King that we are loyal to him. Uncle Maron wants us to prosper I know that, but the only way we may prosper under a Targaryen King is if we help him. Otherwise we shall meet the same fate as Harren the Black and not even the water will help us."

Vickon nodded in agreement with his son, and then turning to Maester Godrick who stood by the door he said "Send the ravens out tonight maester. It is time the armies of the Iron Islands assembled once more. We shall show these Reachermen what we are made of."

The maester bowed and left for his rookery. Discussion then turned to how they would plan the attack of the Shield Islands, Vickon knew his lords' bannermen would have their own suggestions, and he would listen to what they said, but the real plans, the plans that they would follow in battle would be discussed and decided here. "If we are to take the Shield Islands we must do it by surprise. It is likely that Lords Grimm and Serry have already mobilised their ships to sail into the Mander that will leave their islands free for the taking." Maron said.

"How will we get to their islands though when Lords Chester and Hewett will still hold their men and their ships inland?" Harren asked.

Vickon was silent, he knew how but he wished to see if Devon would come up with the answer himself, this son of his who seemed more intent on playing the Game of Thrones than anyone else. "We split our ships in half, and lead Lords Chester and Hewett on a goose chase, one half does that, the other half manoeuvres round their ships and attack their islands from the rear." Devan said eventually, looking to Vickon for praise.

Vickon did not nod, but merely said "Yes that is what we shall do, though we shall not split the fleet into half. No we shall be bringing some of the galleys with us, ten of them. Those galleys will be more than a match for Lords Chester and Hewett, the Iron Fleet will dock in at Greenshield and then we shall burn the lands there."

"But father, the king asks we capture the islands not burn them!" Devon protested.

Vickon stared coldly at his son and said "We are not Greenlanders that we sit by and allow traitors to go unpunished, their lands shall burn." With that the conversation was finished and he dismissed his brother and eldest son Devon though he asked Harren to remain behind. "I want you to lead the galley that takes on Lords Chester and Hewitt." He said.

His son looked shocked. "I am honoured father, but surely that should fall to Devon?"

Vickon snorted. "Devon shall be coming with myself and Maron on the fleet. No you must prove yourself, and if things go well you shall hold the Shield Islands once all is said and done."

His son bowed and then left. Vickon stayed seated and looked through the letter once more, the Shield Islands and the Arbor were rebelling against Highgarden joined by House Florent and House Appleton. A small rebellion but one Orys Targaryen could not afford, not so soon after the last Tarling war had been put down. Yes there was the perfect chance to make some profit from this.

It took three weeks for the whole strength of the Iron Islands to assemble, 17,000 men answered the call to arms, coming from the lands of Saltcliffe, Harlaw, Old Wyk, Great Wyk, Blacktyde and Orkmont. Bringing with them men as battle hardened as oxen, and longships to bolster the Iron Fleet, the war galley of 10 ships came from Harlaw, commanded by Lord Domeric Harlaw the Builder. They arrived and soon talk turned to battle and the glory that awaited them all, it had been many a year since the Iron Fleet and the Iron Army had sailed out in such numbers. The last time had been when Vickon's grandfather, Lord Dalton had called the banners and gone pillaging round the Summer Islands and the Stepstones. Now though there was just cause, and soon enough all the lords were hungry for glory, and the chance to teach the Reachmen a lesson.

"Those flowery bastards won't know what has hit them, the minute they see the Iron Fleet they shall flee cowering like then whipped curs they are!" Lord Andros Orkmont had proclaimed one night during the feasting at Pyke.

He had been greeted by the loud drunken shouts of thousands of Ironborn all eagerly awaiting the chance to prove their skill and show the Greenlanders that they were more skilled at fighting. Vickon remained silent through it all, most of these lords had never truly faced a battle in their lives, their fathers had been contemporaries of Vickon's older brother Daegon, but Daegon had died fighting the Tyroshi some years ago and so Vickon had become Lord of the Iron Islands when all he had expected was to be given a keep on Pyke. He had fought in the same battle that had claimed his brother's life; he was still scarred by the nightmares that plagued him. He allowed these green boys their japes and dreams of glory, they would know the reality soon enough.

It seemed old Harmon Pyke, the Bastard of Nagga's Tooth the thrice drowned shared his views. "It is all well and good to speak of bloodying the roses and teaching them a lesson. But they have experience in war, whilst we do not. We have sat idle for too long, ever since Daegon Greyjoy died have we sat idle. I ask you what is there preventing us from burning on the straits?"

Much noise was brought about by the man's words, with Lord Harrick Harlaw shouting "You are an old crone Pyke. We shall kill the Reachmen and show them what it is to be warriors!" Robert Blacktyde heir to the Blacktyde concurred with Harlaw shouting "The reachmen have grown soft since, dragons may be one thing, but we fight for the dragons, we shall take what is ours and they shall know to fear us again!"

It was Gormon Severance Axe, a feared warrior in the Islands who spoke next. "We should be free of the Throne. Why should the Targaryens rule over us when they cannot keep their greenlands in order?" Some people murmured at this, and Vickon even saw his brother nod his head in agreement. Gormon went on. "Lord Vickon, you are a fine lord, have been since your brother's untimely death. Why should the dragons rule over us, when the sea and the rebellions in the greenlands keep them from us. It was Harren Hoare's folly of building that monstrosity in the greenlands that cost us our freedom. Let us be free again I say."

The murmuring was increasing, Vickon felt himself growing uncomfortable with the words that were being uttered. He downed his cup of wine in one and then said "We are lords of these islands still because of the dragons. I will not risk my people's safety because of a night of drunken feelings and shouting. No we have been given a task, we shall carry it out and we shall take what we need from that. No more no less."

There was some murmuring at his words, but after Devon stood up and spoke, it seemed to die down. That was his son, ever the political player. "My lords, my father is right. Being free of the dragons may be a good feeling, but it would not last. The Targaryens brought down Harren Hoare for resisting their might; we must not suffer the same fate. Let us take the Shield Islands and show the King our worth, and we shall reap more rewards from that, than from declaring ourselves independent."

After that night there was no more talk of becoming a free people, instead the talk turned to battle plans and how best to attack the Shield Islands. News continued to filter in from the south, Lords Grimm and Serry had left their lands completely undefended taking all of their men with them to assist the Florents on the main land. The Redwynes were amassing their fleet ready for a strike at Oldtown. The Velaryons were taking their fleet from the Driftmark and sailing it round the coast. Eventually a moon after the lords of the Iron Islands came to Pyke, the Iron Fleet and the Drowned God's Galley set sail, 15,000 men onboard the ships with some 2,000 staying behind to defend the islands.

They arrived on the outskirts of the Shield Islands at dawn, two moons after sailing from Pyke, delayed as they were by chop and wind. The plan was set in motion, Vickon watched with nervous anticipation as his son, his favourite child Harren led the galleys down from the main fleet and toward the Islands, drawing the Lords Hewett and Chester away from their land. Horns were sounded and the battle began, Vickon waited aboard his son's ship the Flying Axe, the flagships of the Iron Fleet had been left in Pyke, so as not to give the game away. The sound of swords and steel, and the screams and death throes of the men echoed back to Vickon on the ship and he prayed to the gods old, new and drowned that Harren remained alive.

Soon enough Vickon found himself in the throes of battle, he heard Maron's war horn being blown signalling that the trap had been set, the Shield Islands fleet was coming towards them. Drawing his axe from his side, Vickon stood on the prow of the ship and bellowed "Men of the Iron Islands let us attack these poor excuse for sailors!" The answering roar sent chills down his spine, and he watched with some satisfaction as his men fired the catapults from their ships knocking and damaging the enemies ships, some of the ships fired back and Vickon watched as some of his men went to the bottom of the sea, to the Drowned God's watery halls.

"Three ships approaching father." He heard Devon say.

Nodding he drew his axe high, and waited for the ships to come in close, and the minute the men boarded the ship he was on them. Swinging his axe as if his life depended on it, hacking and slashing. Heads rolled, bodies fell to the ground and on and on it went. The blood coursed through his body, making his movements and every other action around him seem to go faster and faster. He hacked and swung his axe till there was no one left to kill. His axe was red with the blood of many a foe. "Throw the bodies overboard." He said coldly. As the men on the ship hastened to obey him, he stopped and heard the sounds of battle around him, men swearing and screaming for blood, this was what he had been born for, the fight, not sitting in a hall waiting for news from the greenlands.

Another ship came passing by, but before its men had a chance to board, Vickon was onto them, jumping over the gap, in full armour, grimacing as he landed. Swinging his axe left, right and centre. Men fell all around him, his axe cleaving them away from their lives, some attacked him, some succeeded, and some failed. Still there would be cuts and dents in his armour once the fighting was done. The ship rocked, signalling that his son and his men had joined him, and so the fighting went on. The blood flooded the ship, as men's bodies fell heavily to the ground, those who had fought bravely, Vickon honoured by having their bodies thrown overboard, and those who begged for mercy like cravens he sent them to a painful death.

Eventually the ship was defeated, and Maron blew the horn to signal victory, Vickon bellowed for the ships to make for land, and as they did so he counted how many of the fleet remained. 100 ships had set sail from Pyke as part of the Iron Fleet, 80 remained. Of the galleys there was no sight, and Vickon soon felt his heart begin to pound in his chest as they got off the ships and still there was no sign of his son, no sign of Harren.

They entered the hall of House Chester victorious; the lord was dead leaving behind only a score of maiden daughters, who would not be maidens by the end of the night. Maron held the lands of House Hewett. As the drink and food flowed that night, Vickon sat in the high chair and watched it all unfold before him, but still he felt a certain sense of sadness, there had been no word from the galleys as of yet, no word from Harren, and it was beginning to knag at him. His reverie was disrupted by a touch on his shoulder, turning to see who it was he found himself looking at Harmon Pyke, the man looked worn out and tired. But still there was an air of triumph on him. "There is someone here to see you my lord. They wait in the lord's solar."

Vickon nodded and got up, Devon noticing that he was moving away from the hall made to stand up as well but Vickon shook his head and merely said "Keep our lords happy." Before walking out of the hall, his cloak billowing behind him. He walked with Harmon to the lord's solar, and was surprised to find a Princess of the blood standing overlooking the sea below. Turning he felt his breath get taken away, there standing in front of him was one of the most beautiful ladies he had ever seen. Princess Rhaenys Targaryen, granddaughter of the hand of the King Prince Jaehaerys. Vickon bowed low before standing up and saying "Princess, it is an honour. What brings you here?"

Princess Rhaenys was all of thirteen years old, and yet she was a maiden flowered if reports were to be believed. Why she was here was questionable. The Princess looked at him once for a long moment before speaking in a manner that reminded Vickon eerily of her grandfather. "I have come to assist you in the taking of the Arbor my lord of Greyjoy. And to inform you that the lands of House Grimm and Serry belong to the Ironborn now."

Vickon immediately peaked up at the news of the capturing of the lands of Houses Grimm and Serry. "That is good news Princess. I must ask, do you know what became of my son?"

At that the Princess' expression became sad, and she came to him and held his hand as she said "I am afraid Lord Harren died leading the breach into Castle Serry. He fought valiantly your son did, you should be proud of him."

"I am" Vickon whispered. His son dead, his favourite son, the boy he was going to give the Shield Islands to, dead, just like Daegon.

"Yes, it is a shame. But I come bearing orders from my cousin the King." Princess Rhaenys said, handing over the letter to him.

He opened it and read it, and felt disbelief close in on him. "Surely the king cannot be serious? He means for us to engage the Redwyne fleet in open battle on the Sea? Where they will outnumber us 2 to 1?"

Princess Rhaenys smiled at him then and said "Ah but you will not be alone. I am here with Meleys. The Hightowers are mustering their ships to sail onto the Straits, the Velaryon fleet grows nearer every day."

Vickon said nothing, but noticing he was dismissed left the solar, and went back to his rooms, where he found a maid waiting for him, a comely woman with large teats. He fucked her hard that night, wanting to take out his frustration and rage that the gods would be so cruel to leave him with one pathetic son and take the brave one away. The next morning the Iron Fleet with its 80 ships set sail for the Straits, and to war, with a dragon following them.

The Hightower fleet met them north of the arbor, bringing some 50 war ships with it, commanded by the heir to Oldtown, Ser Gunthor Hightower a man of forty, proud and battle hardened. The Redwyne fleet contained 200 war ships and some twenty smaller vassals meant as a last line of defence, Vickon knew not how they were meant to win, not with the Velaryon fleet still so far away. But still he would not buck his duty, and so when Maron put the horn to his lips and blew it, Vickon raised his axe high and bellowed for the catapults to be fired. And so the battle of the Straits began.

The sounds, the smells, it was all Vickon lived for now his son was dead. Hacking and slashing his way through the Redwyne men, whenever the ship docked onto an enemy ship he was the first one through onto the enemy line, not caring whether he faced one foe or twenty, they all fell to him. One by one, the legend would go in years to come, one by one the Redwyne men and their bannermen threw themselves at Vickon Greyjoy and one by one they died, with his axe cleaving its way through them. He fought like a man possessed and perhaps he was, he kept fighting even when men pleaded for mercy, his men taking their lead from him continued firing their catapults and other such things at the Redwynes until they were out of them, and their ships began to sink under the weight of arrow fire coming from the Redwyne fleet.

That was when Rhaenys Targaryen, granddaughter to Prince Jaehaerys took flight on her great winged beast, Meleys the Red Queen who had been her father's dragon, angered by her months in captivity, the great red dragon reigned fire down upon the Redwyne fleet, burning it to smithereens, sending the men who manned its ships screaming into the water, where the weight of their armour dragged them down to their deaths. Vickon and his men took heart from the dragon's display, and so that the Redwynes could not fire arrows at the rider or the dragon, charged onto the Redwyne ships and hacked and slashed their way through the men, that was when the Hightowers and the Velaryons came to be of great assistance, closing off the Redwyne fleets last chance of escaping, pushing them against the wall of Ironborn in front, and the wall of the sea dragons to the back, with a dragon raining hell fire above them.

The Redwyne fleet, the mighty thing of stories is reduced to ash and dust, bodies lie floating on the surface of the Straits, victory is theirs, and yet they must take the castle first. Vickon leads the charge, even with a dragon Lord Redwyne's brother, Damon is a stubborn fool who will yield no quarter, even as Vickon slices his head from his body, the man yells about rights and foolishness. The arbor is theirs as the victory is theirs, the King comes riding on the back of his massive bronze mount, King Orys Targaryen the first of his name, glitters and glimmers in armour of black and gold, with the crown of the black dread on his head, he stands before Vickon, as the Lord of the Iron Islands kneels, and names him Lord over the Arbor and the Shield Islands as well as the iron Islands and to do with them as he wishes.

The Iron Islands will be strong again, they will be feared. What is dead never dies, but they were never dead in the first place, but they have risen stronger and harder than ever before. The Krakens are powerful once more.