Chapter 7: Tristifer I & the Disputed Lands
Created: 12.30.20 - 12.31.20, edited: 3.8.22 & 4.18.22
Tristifer Greenhands I
Growing up in a large family of poor pig farmers, a full days ride north of White Harbor, I never had much in the way of expectations. In fact, most assumed I would die long before getting called by the Manderly Levies, as I was a sickly child often ignored and left to my own devices. My parents and siblings had too much work and not enough resources to waste any time or money on me, and likewise was pretty much left to fend for myself from an early age because life for Tristifer Greenhands wasn't going to be easy.
Those early years were some of the absolute worst, as I was often hungry and sick, suffering physically and mentally with horrible ailments and visions while left completely alone to either die or survive. Often too hungry to do much of anything except somehow fight to survive, as the years passed by and I slowly started to grow and get stronger. The visions were even more troubling, and I made little sense of them at the time, thinking I was just going crazy watching brief snippets of different lives that had no context or understanding. Eventually I was pronounced healthy enough to join my parents and siblings in working our farm long enough to know I never wanted to be a farmer myself, and was often miserable and ill tempered, never getting along with my family and siblings.
I often wondered what made me different from my father and older brothers, all of them large men with short tempers, and little intelligence or humor, yet completely content with their miserable lives. I wanted more than that for my life, and knew I would never be content confined on this fucking farm, always passed over and ignored when I wanted attention, and all up in my shit when I needed space. My visions became dreamlike and filled with other lives and locations I had never seen, and filled me with a longing to get out into the world and see it for myself.
By the time I was ten and five, I had tried several times to run away from home, but the small village we were in would always help / force my return, contacting my parents to get me, and never let me be. Usually those episodes would result in a severe beating from my father and the two oldest of my brothers, who were even worse tempered than the other shitty members of my family, and just reinforced my desire to get the fuck away from them all. When the first person from the Manderly's came recruiting for their levies, I didn't even say goodbye to a single member of my miserable family, and joined on the spot with nothing to my name but the clothes I was wearing and completely unafraid of what was to come, knowing it was better than what I was leaving.
By the time I reached White Harbor with almost fifty other men and boys who volunteered, the recruiter Ser Hemett, an old veteran of the Nine Penny Wars who fought for the Manderly's, had given us all the basic rundown of what we should be expecting. It was two intense weeks of being shuffled around from one trainer to another, being taught the very basics of fighting with swords, spears, or bows, with anyone showing promise quickly being pulled into more specialized groups with more focused training. I was close to being pulled into a bow group, but argued with the teacher that I thought I'd make a better sword fighter, even if I was currently better with a bow than most, and almost helpless so far at the two lessons I had with a sword in hand.
Despite his laughter, he let me go to the sword group anyway, and after getting kitted out with the basic essentials, was given a tent assignment with five other younger boys closer to my age than most of the fighters in the levies. We weren't given much of an introduction before we were marching for almost twelve to fifteen hours every fucking day, and when we arrived at the end of each day's march, we were yelled at until we figured out how to set up our tent and camp in the orderly fashion that Ser Wendall Manderly, the Heir of White Harbor wanted before we got supper. It was an eye opening experience, to be witness to the nobility that was suddenly among us, as most of us were simple common folk, given the basic and leftover tools for battle with little instructions or expectations that we would do anything other than be a meat shield in a noble war.
Seeing the nobles and knights and man-at-arms leading the march, and teaching others occasionally when talk turned to war and fighting, was a unique experience for a poor pig farmer, but I soaked up everything I saw and learned, hoping it would keep me alive and vowing never to return to my previous life. My other tent mates were of similar age and experience, in that they had very little in the way of any training or skills, but at least were of a similar age and all seemed to be thrown in this together with no care for any of our feelings or needs. Interestingly, one of my tent mates was a noble though you'd have never known then, and an Heir himself of Oldcastle. Donnel Locke, a scrawny thin little boy a year younger than me that spent much of the last few years in White Harbor's library reading, and he was definitely not the image of the Noble Lord I was expecting.
He was scrawny and skinny, just starting to grow taller and nowhere close to filling out his frame, with dark black hair and steel gray colored eyes that at least showed some intelligence in them, even if they were mostly filled with fear at first. It was weeks before I learned all of this though, and at first he was just another one of my tent mates, no better or worse than me in most things, and surprisingly quiet and willing to sit and listen, something I always thought was impossible for nobles. As we finally started making our way south into the Neck and then into the Westerlands, our relationship had grown quite a bit, and I would probably even say he quickly became my closest friend among my tent mates.
Surprisingly, he didn't care much about being a noble, and was much more worried about just staying alive than making a name for himself or rubbing elbows with his fellow lords. I could relate to some of that, as the idea of trying to stay alive was a thought that dominated my thinking as we marched hours a day, and the two of us ended up sharing several tales of our lives to that point. Neither of us had any friends previously, and were both socially awkward enough to not be able to handle much interaction with others and mostly interacted with one another over the long weeks of marching that soon turned into months.
Donnel was a decent sort, and within a few weeks, I knew that if we both survived, he would welcome me into his service if I asked him. I had talked enough about my desire to never return home, that I was confident he would offer it before too long just because he was Northern, but I wanted to make a name for myself and see the world first. We had a lot of time marching throughout the day, training in the evenings, and sleeping in the same tent to really get to know one another, and most of our tent mates seemed to pair off in a similar way. Raymar Snow and Delfyr Mo were both 17 and grew up together, while Branden Jolce was 18, and Davyd Beltmore was the youngest at 16, but both were rather large and slower than most, often paired together.
Donnel was much smarter than I first thought, and knew a good deal about warfare and fighting from a theoretical standpoint, but also knew the likelihood of either of us surviving without the skills necessary and had a healthy fear of war and death. He was also terrified of his Family's Man at Arms, Gray Lonthor, a strong ox of a man in his late forties and veteran of several wars, who was responsible for leading the Oldcastle Levies that Donnel should have been in charge of. His fear of the man had him run from his responsibility to his Family and home, and had asked for permission from Ser Wendall himself to join the Manderly Levies in an effort to hide from the man and the soldiers from his home town he knew practically nothing about.
It took some time to learn the whole story, but Donnel hadn't been in Oldcastle but for a few days in almost 8 years, and likewise knew little of his Family's Levies, instead he had been the squire of Ser Wendall until just before the war. During that time however, he rarely took to the few sword lessons he got, and was more of an administrator and gopher for the Heir of White Harbor. So we slowly started working in the evenings on our footwork and sword skills until we both were at a point we hopefully wouldn't embarrass ourselves, and may even survive past the first fight. It almost didn't work, as that first fight on the shores of whatever island we first reached almost ended our journey before it even began.
We had both within the first hour of fighting taken blows that could have killed us with a little less luck, but in fact only had us out for a day or two until we were back in among the levees continuing the fight. For several days, we fought long battles against the Ironborn and slowly came to realize that we still knew nothing about fighting, but gladly continued to survive to fight again. It was almost a month of on and off fighting almost every day, until we reached Pike and the final island of the Ironborn, where the levees of the combined armies of the Seven Kingdoms stormed the home of the Rebellious Greyjoys.
We had each improved significantly over that time, but increasing from the low level we started at, wasn't something to really be proud of, though we were both alive as we stormed the Island of Pike. Though, that turned out to be something of a shit show, as we were both almost killed again, with a wall collapsing on Donnel and us barely surviving the end of the Greyjoy Rebellion. Despite everything that happened, we somehow miraculously survived, and emerged out the other end all the better for it, though the changes would be felt for years to come.
From that point on, Donnel changed quite a bit.
Gone was the passive guy who sat in the corner listening and reading, mumbling to others and rarely putting himself in a position to get noticed, and in his place came a man possessed with an inner confidence and strength of will that was simply unheard of. His eyes became even sharper, the steel gray almost became luminescent in its glow on occasion that unnerved him a time or two. But he quickly came to realize that his friend was simply growing up, and growing better for it, taking the necessary steps to put himself forward a little and continue improving, even after the war ended.
In fact, it was almost comical how obsessed Donnel became with getting better over the months following the end of the war, during the Tournament at Casterly Rock and the march home to the North. I was left gaping and speechless as I watched him wake early to train, load double and push himself on every day's march, then train in the evenings with anyone he could find before doing the whole thing again the next day. It started to show too, as the months getting back to the North, Donnel put on some serious muscle and gained a lot of confidence and skills in his unusual pursuit to improve so much after the war.
And then came the visit at Seagard, where Donnel got to drink and meet with Lord Jason Mallister and returned the next day with a pair of adult bastards, and the beginning of the plan. From then all the talk was of going on to explore Essos in the East by joining up as sellswords to continue our growing skills and increasing our martial pursuits, while he built up a group of young men to surround himself with. Apparently though, that wasn't the only thing he had in that unusual mind of his, and as we neared White Harbor, even more of his plans and ideas started to emerge that left me gaping at my friend in astonishment.
By the time we were making our way to Oldcastle, with a group of over thirty men that had all agreed to follow Donnel to Essos, my friend was surprising us every other day with a new discovery or idea of his that he knew just how to make happen. By the time we actually reached Oldcastle, and I got to be welcomed as the Sworn Sword of the Heir of a Noble House, and given a guest room that would have fit my family's farmhouse twice over, I was beyond shocked at everything my friend had going on. I realized that he really was something pretty special, and if I really was to be his Sworn Sword, than I better be the best mother fucking sworn sword ever, and doubled my own training.
I was able to accomplish the training increase pretty easily, as Donnel put me in charge of getting everyone up to a certain standard that would keep them from being a liability to the rest of them. For this to happen, I had to drill the men, and had luckily paid a little attention during those extra lessons in White Harbor and now in Oldcastle that Donnel was giving me, and I saw and remembered what worked during the war and tried to incorporate those skills into the mix, while pushing everyone to get better. Many of them needed better motivation to truly try and improve on their mediocre fighting skills, but the promise of glory and riches as sellswords was an easy motivator for young men, and the perks of their group were not to be dismissed.
Getting every person outfitted with a matching breastplate with the Locke Key's on their chest was another stroke of genius, as it protected and gave the men a sense of belonging and protection from their lord, making them all realize they all had a great opportunity to make names for themselves. They were attaching themselves to an ambitious and intelligent young lord with grand plans and ideas at the ground floor, and they all quickly realized that staying around Donnel was going to be profitable in ways beyond just money. Many of them were being given opportunities that would never have come to former pig farmers, or bastards, or smallfolk anywhere in Westeros, yet here they all were planning to change the world under Donnel Locke.
Then he goes and "invents" or "dreams about" the secrets of glass, paper, ale, wine, and some drink called rum in the few months we are in Oldcastle preparing to leave for Essos, and already we knew our lives would never be the same. I left most of the important decisions in Donnel's very capable hands, and did as he asked me in training the men and myself, constantly telling myself that this is exactly what I wanted and putting my all into it. By the time we reached Braavos, he had all the men's loyalty, as he treated us all the same, bastards, former pig farmers, illiterate smallfolk, or guards didn't matter to him as much as your deeds and actions with him.
It was unlike anything any of us had ever seen or understood, expecting the nobility to just run roughshod over us, and tell us what to do all the time while generally treating us like we didn't exist. But Donnel did none of the things we all grew up seeing the nobility do, and treated us fairly and honestly, spoke plainly and gave everyone a chance to be something better than even they thought possible. It was humbling, and empowering like nothing I had ever experienced, and by the time he was rescuing slaves throughout Essos, I was convinced he was the second coming of Bran the Builder, and would have followed him anywhere.
My best friend and savior, Donnel Locke.
—-Locke's Legion—-
Donnel POV
Circa 291-292 AC
I gave a mighty heave of my sword, destroying the large wooden shield held by the thick blue bearded man of the Golden Company as we faced off once again. Admittedly, we found ourselves in the infantry fighting against the famous sellsword company for the third separate time over the past six months, ever since we started to push back against them outside of Myr, with the rest of the Tyroshi hired forces that the Company of the Rose was a part of. Not surprisingly based on the first outcome, but I remember fighting this exact same man almost four months ago in one of the earlier skirmishes of this push towards Myr, and was hopeful that this time it wouldn't be me leaving with a broken sword arm and crippled friend.
It had been one of the more painful and difficult things I had to go through, as for several weeks I couldn't even use my dominant right arm for almost anything. It was made even more challenging since our sellsword company and many others, were in the middle of a march towards Myr for the last year, and I didn't get a break to let it heal. So, I was forced to quickly adapt to becoming a left handed sword fighter in order to stay alive and continue leading my troops, and I learned quite a bit about myself as a fighter.
The main thing I learned out of necessity was how to fight without a shield, and avoid heavy hits and focus more on dodging, deflecting, or re-directing blows when I could get my left hand into the correct position. One of the other bigger things I learned was that I could be really crafty and sneaky, and that I really wanted to survive and succeed in this world. The final thing was that most people were not as accustomed to fighting lefties, and often got themselves out of position, seeing openings that weren't really there.
Now that my right arm had healed and was partially usable again, I had been trying to use it more and strengthen it back to its previous level. But after using my left hand for the last few months, I was often getting even myself confused on my footwork and technique, alternating between hands to keep them both sharp and give them both breaks while I got back into the flow of battle. I was actually thinking of trying to use dual swords soon, having encountered only a very few of those people among the other sellswords, and was amazed and impressed by the ones I saw that I thought would be a game changer that few were prepared for.
I ducked under the anger-fueled swing of bluebeard's beautiful sword, obviously upset after losing his large shield and one of the biggest advantages he had over me, and had been using well against me until that point in our now approaching three minute-long fight. I was already doing better than I had during our first encounter, where I was arrogant and sloppy after over a year of training, fighting, and beating most of my peers and opponents somewhat easily, and thinking myself invincible on the battlefield. Having him quite easily shatter my shield and then break my sword arm, and only getting spared from death by the timely arrival of Tristifer and Davyd, was a real eye opening experience.
That Davyd was now back in the camp as a helper as he could still barely walk without pain, was a constant reminder that neither I nor my friends were in fact invincible. That he was hurt permanently in my defense was a hard truth to live with, and that the person who injured us both was here in front of me had my blood boiling and adrenaline pumping higher than ever before. Without his shield to protect him, he was a much more cautious and even dangerous fighter, and seemed to be finally taking me and our fight seriously, which didn't bode as well for my continued survival, but I was nothing if not sneaky and persistent
Within seconds I was back on the defensive as he now used both hands on his pretty bastard sword to great effect and strength, quickly wearing my still recovering right arm and my slowly strengthening left arm down, though I can honestly say I did pretty well considering. Thankfully a not too distant horn sounding, caused most of those fighting nearby to quickly raise their heads for a moment to take note of the charging cavalry, and determine if it was going to help or hurt their side. Sighing in relief when I recognized the cavalry banners of our own Company of the Rose, I transferred my sword back to my left hand and turned back towards the blue bearded man with a renewed purpose and drive as our plan to trap his forces had worked.
Charging him quickly so as to not give him time to make the call to retreat and get away from us now that we finally had the superior numbers, I brought my arms down with the sword and he made the perfect block attempt had I still been fighting with my dominant right hand. Since he wasn't ready for my arm change and the unusual angle I brought my sword down in, the angle of his block was off and I came down hard on the area between his small helmet and the shoulder pauldron he wore, cleaving into the pauldron and chain mail he wore as blood instantly exploded out of the wound. A nearby shout from one of his men of 'Gryff' triggered a distant memory of a Game of Thrones fanfiction I once read with a similar named character, but now wasn't the time to reminisce as I was rushed by two of his men.
The next few seconds were a frantic struggle against a pair of pissed off Golden Company men as they tried to take me down, while more of their men rushed to surround and pull back the blue bearded man. I was able to turn and keep the pair in front of me, instead of allowing them to separate and surround me, but had to quickly deflect a strong blow that could have easily taken my head and then duck and sweep the legs from the second man right behind. With him going to the ground, I was able to focus and attack the first man with a pair of hits that opened up his guard before plunging my sword in his gut, and then instantly having to wrench it out to block the second man who had risen even more pissed off.
I had to frantically block the next several swings with my weakening left arm until I could get my legs back under me, and use both hands to block him properly then lowering my right shoulder into him, sending him reeling backwards. That let me switch my sword back to my favored right hand and advance on him quickly, sending a trio of flourishing attacks that had his shield knocked off his probably broken arm, before I finished him with a stab to the neck just above his fancy breastplate. I then rushed back towards the slowly moving circle of Golden Company's men, cutting several of them down as well before they were forced into a full on retreat.
I spotted bluebeard before he disappeared behind a shield wall that was desperately trying to make its way to their nearby outpost, and a pleased grin was on my face as I noticed his badly hanging sword arm and the bloody shoulder I left him. Despite being denied ultimate vengeance on the man, I was still really pleased to have done so well against him and his men, glad that our little plan had worked so well, and wondering when this exhausting war was going to end. I looked out at the battlefield around me as our cavalry harassed them all the way back to their outpost, spotting my friends and sargeants Tristifer, Sydel, and Juden still standing and breathing heavily, looking like the normal blood covered soldiers they were, after one of these intense battles.
"You guys alright?" I asked gruffly, my throat and whole body simply aching, and still trying to take in as much of the battlefield as I could now that the nearby fighting was over, and spotted the pretty bastard sword bluebeard used lying nearby on the ground.
"Aye," answered Sydel with a large grin, "looks like we got them on the run now."
"Especially with bluebeard getting injured," laughed a tired looking Juden with a grateful nod towards me, all of us with something of a growing hatred for the man who crippled Davyd, while I looked over my new sword and was pleased with its high quality.
"Aye," laughed a blood covered Tristifer, "fuck that guy!"
"If he's as injured as it looked," continued Juden with a laugh of his own, "then we might be making the final push towards the last outpost."
"We'll see what the Captain says," I answered with a grin of my own tucking the new sword into my scabbard and ripping the pricey looking scabbard off the dead friend for my old trusty sword, hoping to end this war soon despite the many gains in loot, skill, and experience it got us all, and glad to have hurt bluebeard personally to make that a possibility.
"We'll gather the wounded and dead," continued Sydel with a nod towards me, "you can go report to the Captain."
We had been part of the Company of the Rose now for almost a year and a half, and all of us had really grown into pretty good individual fighters and even better friends. For the last year, we had been commissioned by Tyrosh to join with the Second Sons, the Lost Sons, the Chained Men, and the Company of Shields to attack and push towards Myr in their never-ending conflict. Myr had countered with hiring the Golden Company to defend them, and they had been slowing our march down over the last six months trying to prevent us from reaching Myr and protecting the wealthy city.
Thankfully the Golden Company was alone in currently defending Myr, thinking their reputation would win the day, but in fact were spread very thin by outmaneuvering them and forcing them to cover multiple attacking fronts over the months. This meant that their famed War Elephants that devastated infantry units, were in a different part of the battle, allowing our small group of infantry soldiers to lead theirs into a trap by offering us up as bait until the cavalry came to our rescue. It only worked because we managed with smaller numbers to hold their larger force in place long enough for our cavalry to get into position and overwhelm them with a quick strike.
The plan worked wonderfully, and I knew Captain Cregan would be really pleased we were able to pull it off, and hopefully it would put the Golden Company on the back foot. He had been slowly allowing me more and more input into the battle plans during this campaign after proving successful several times now, and the continually growing number of men he kept putting under me reinforced that increasing trust. It helped that he was a former Northerner himself, who according to him was the bastard runt of an Umber man he refused to name, and that he still loved and missed his homeland.
He was a beast of a man, though having seen Greatjon Umber, he could technically be considered a runt to 'only' that family, and was as gruff and surly as they came. He was now approaching middle-age, probably near forty, with dark brown hair and a well kept short beard because of the heat, and had been in charge of the Company of the Rose for only two years. After their previous Captain's death, a small group left under another older man, but most followed their previous Captain's chosen successor and he took over command of the relatively small sellsword company that had consisted of several Northern descendents.
We were brought in shortly after he took over and needed to increase his numbers, after accepting his free travel to his camp near Tyrosh, and in turn were promised our freedom when we needed to return home and I was allowed to take command of his small infantry of less than 50 men. Adding my own large group of 100 men, we soon grew that infantry into a 500 plus group that could stand toe to toe with almost any other out there after training them myself. One of the original men, Axel Whiteye along with Tristifer, Sydel, Juden, and Davyd were tasked with becoming sargents and leading smaller units within the infantry to help with delegation and to try and introduce some command structures into the unit.
So far it was going really well, and all five of my sargents had flourished in command even despite Davyd's injury, and the soldiers had the benefit of true oversight and leadership at all times and had likewise blossomed. My command structure and the overall effectiveness of the infantry quickly got the attention form Captain Cregan, and was now being used in the Heavy Cavalry under Lugo Voran, the Light Cavalry under Jandai Rivers, Archers under Ben "Bullseye" Benthuk, and Pikeman under Starfinder. Each of the units had greatly benefitted from the reorganized and increased participation of a larger and more capable command structure and training guidelines, and it showed in the Rose's successes of late.
We also had a large group of almost 50 scouts under my friend and former tent mate of the Greyjoy Rebellion, Raymar Snow. Raymar had found several trackers and hunters that worked well as scouts, and had trained them all up to be some of the very best among their numbers, as their information gathering and scouting had already greatly helped them throughout the campaign. There were also a few of his original men spread out into the other various units, so they had at least one person in every group of the Company of the Rose, to spread out their skills and growing knowledge and keep an eye on their fellow Sellswords and learn all they could.
Several clever distractions and traps, mostly made possible by good scouting and planning, had slowly whittled down at the opposing forces and confidence of the Golden Company, to where nobody thought they were unbeatable any longer. I had the three sergeants with me do a final count and made sure all our injured were brought quickly back to camp, the dead were stripped of valuables and gathered for burials. We lost sixty of the two hundred we brought with us, which was a large blow, but saw three times as many enemy dead, and knew we had 300 more infantry troops in reserve in order to entice them out and spring our trap.
Axel and the newly promoted Geremy Rivers, one of the Frey bastards I brought from the Twins who took over for Davyd, had led our reserves to hopefully cut off their supply lines while we kept their main forces busy and then sprung our cavalry trap. Hopefully they proved successful, and it gave them something positive to do so they didn't resent the others that got to be involved in the large fight that may have just swung this war in our favor. Getting back to camp with my new and old swords in scabbards on me, I found Axel and Geremy first to ensure they were successful, and learned they didn't lose a single person, and had even confiscated several wagons full of supplies and food that would go over very well with the rest of the company.
I told them to find Tristifer who should be sorting out the spoils soon, glad I always kept things even and made sure nobody was hoarding all the good stuff and distributing it among our ranks to really increase their effectiveness and bolster us in their eyes. I was soon entering the large command tent of Captain Cregan, finding him in discussion already with Jondai Rivers, Bullseye Ben, and Starfinder while they all turned at my entrance and greeted me with wide smiles. Or blank stares in Starfinder's case, as the man's expression never changed, something about his former life and upbringing as an Unsullied that stayed with him.
"I hear your plan was a rousing success?" spoke Captain Cregan with a questioning tone at the end, probably wanting it confirmed by me.
"We lost sixty men," I started somberly, respectfully remembering the men who fought and died for us to win this battle, "...but the final count for them was just over 300 dead, and another 30 taken prisoner ...when I left the battlefield before coming here. I'm sure Lugo will have more complete numbers."
"Three hundred!" whistled Cregan appreciatively to smiles from all the others, realizing that it was a resounding win for our side and decimated the infantry numbers of the Golden Company, "and bluebeard?"
"The fucker still lives," I answered with a shake of my head before slowly pulling out my new sword and grinning wolfishly at them, "but he'll probably never hold a sword again in his right arm."
"Hahaha," laughed Cregan loudly, "more wonderful news."
"Why? What else happened?" I asked as the smiles got wider on everyones' faces.
"Those portable scorpions you insisted we build on top of carts, turned out to be a godsend," spoke Ben with a meaningful look towards me. "We were able to take out a dozen of their remaining War Elephants before they even realized what was happening, we suffered some losses, but nothing like they did."
"Aye," added Cregan with a happy nod, "we lost some good men today, but we also dealt an even heavier blow to the Golden Company."
"How many men did we lose?" I asked for better clarification on numbers.
"I only lost ten of my three hundred archers," responded Ben with a nod.
"I lost over 250 of my 1,000 pikemen," continued Starfinder without any inflection in his voice or changing expression on his face, though the others' all cringed at the higher amount of lost pikeman even if it was expected as the primary defense in the clash with the War Elephants.
"Light Cavalry lost twenty of our 500 men, and three dozen or so horses," continued Jandai Rivers.
"We lost 30 men and 60 horses of our 500 Heavy Cavalry," came the response from a just entering Lugo Voran, "and we have 73 new prisoners in total," he continued in my direction knowing I would want to know the final numbers, and getting a respectful nod from me. "I also saw the damage you dealt to bluebeard ...unless he's willing to learn left handed better and faster than you did ...he's out for a good while."
"Good," replied Cregan, "tonight we celebrate our fallen brothers ...and tomorrow we bring an end to this fucking war!"
We all stayed for another hour going over supplies and loot from the recent battles, and strategies that we felt worked well and what didn't seem to, recounting some of the more important moments and details we saw. We prepared for our final push to the last outpost before we were all given our units' orders and told to return to our men to prepare. All the other lietenants gave me congratulatory pats and handshakes at finally injuring bluebeard before they left, knowing how much he had cost me the first time we fought, and how hard I worked to get that fucker back.
The infantry tents were quieter than normal, most likely from my own practice of honoring and respecting our dead brothers, that had seemed to take over the whole unit as we remembered our fellow soldiers and brothers in arms and what they sacrificed so we could live to fight another day. It was something I thought was important when I first started getting to know my own soldiers, and stopped treating them like imaginary numbers in my head, and was something I was really proud of as it really brought our unit closer together. We remember our fallen after every battle, and learn to fight harder for one another, and start treating each other better, having more patience with those we used to quarrel with, and learned and taught and bled with one another in brotherhood.
We gathered as we always did around the large open area in the center of our camp, designed for both protection and to promote togetherness as we gathered our meals of stew and bread, prepared for us by our many camp helpers. We all ate in solidarity with soldiers and camp helpers together, as people took turns standing up and talking briefly about their fallen friends and brothers. It went on for a bit, and when it tapered off, I rose as I usually did at the end to close out these 'funeral' sessions and everyone got real quiet as I addressed them all.
"We've lost too many great men in this conflict already, and we want to take a moment and bow our heads in remembrance of all our fallen brothers," I started loudly, and everyone instantly lowered their heads in a moment of silence as we prayed to whatever gods we believed in for our brothers to find peace. "Now ...we scored a big victory for us and the Company of the Rose today," I paused here to let the cheers continue for a moment, knowing the guys needed to get their spirits back up after our moments of prayer and allowed it to continue before continuing. "Tonight we raise our glasses to our brothers, those who have left us and those you still stand with now …we are brothers now and always."
"Brothers" came the loudly chanted reply as all those in our camp raised their glasses in toast before drinking.
"Tomorrow," I continued after another long pause to signify the weight of our words, and make sure everyones' attention was on me, "we take the last outpost and end those Golden fuckers."
The cheering this time was deafening as everyone roared out their approval and excitement that the end was so near, and all desperate still to avenge those we had lost along the way. I let it go for a long moment this time as the men needed this outlet, and looked over at my friends and brothers around me, amazed that we had all come so far and grown so much from the beginning of this trip to Essos. Most of them were hardly recognizable from the men they were before they left, and all still seemed to be willing to grow and learn and train as they watched me continually pushing myself and followed that example.
"It was a good speech milord," came the sarcastic teasing of Tristifer later in the evening as we all continued to drink around the large central bonfire of our camp, watching the many soldiers and camp helpers around us sleeping already as just the late night stragglers remained.
"Fuck you Tris," I growled, as several of the other boys laughed, knowing how much I hated being called a Lord, and knew they just did it to get a rise out of me.
"I don't think you're my type?" he laughed back, "I like pretty boys …you are all muscly and grotesque now."
"So you are saying he used to be pretty enough?" laughed Rickard, as Tristifer sputtered at being caught out, though none of us cared at all if he was interested in boys and girls equally.
"A lot of the camp helpers already think he's pretty enough," came the continued teasing, this time from Sydel, who looked over at his cousin who just laughed loudly, having just minutes before tried to explain to a female cook that Lord Locke already had a bed warmer and two more waiting their turn.
"It's the hard steel gray eyes," fake swooned Tristifer, bating his lashes at me, trying to get a response, "they just stare right into your soul."
"Haha," laughed Juden, who couldn't keep it together anymore, and fell over onto the ground as his laughter couldn't be controlled, "according t-to the …c-cooks, …it's his s-strong …shoulders."
"The seamstresses all seem to think it's his tight ass," came the deadpan delivery from Geremy, who while funny, was usually very quiet and conservative, and the delivery was so well timed that several swallows of ale were spit up in laughter, causing the whole group to cheer and laugh loudly.
"Fuck," I groaned, "not you too, Geremy?"
"Sorry milord," he smiled innocently, though his rosy cheeks and nose told me he was well and drunk, and it was good to see him relax and let loose a little, and I could only shake my head in exasperation.
"Yeah yeah," I continued, "laugh it up. I'll be the one laughing at your hangovers tomorrow."
The next morning at sun up, the probably still drunk or hungover infantry was ready to move on towards the final outpost outside of Myr, a relatively well built and defensible fort that could house a few thousand troops, but currently only held the remains of the Golden Company. We estimated their remaining numbers at under three thousand now, drastically reduced from the 15,000 strong they started this campaign with, and we felt well equipped and ready to make our final push. We were to join the Second Sons and Company of Shields as we stormed the outpost, while the archers peppered their walls and the pikemen started putting together the siege equipment, leaving the Light and Heavy Cavalry to cover us and provide backup in case we faltered.
Because of the hard battle the day before, I had Geremy and Axel taking the bulk of our more rested forces in the first wave, while myself and Tristifer were behind them, and Sydel and Juden protecting our backside in reserve to keep us all safe. The Second Sons had a lot less discipline per member and overall in their structure and were all simply going to charge straight ahead, while the Company of Shields at least had some order and were planning to provide cover from arrows and boulders raining down from the walls of the outpost. When Cregan gave us the nod to engage, I nodded to the young man with the drum to begin the march cadence as my infantry all moved forward towards the last defensible outpost between here and the gates of Myr in lockstep.
After over an hour of attacking the outpost, weakening the heavy gates, and picking off countless soldiers up on the walls with our archers and seeing visible damage from our siege weapons that would soon be affecting the structural integrity of the fort, we finally saw them raise a white flag from the battlements. It caused a deafening cheer to erupt from every member of every attacking sellsword company, signaling that we had successfully fulfilled our contract and defeated the once thought invincible Golden Company. We had only lost a few of the infantry, as the Company of Shields did a superb job keeping clear lanes open to the walls, and it was only a matter of time until we overran them completely and would have taken the fort.
With the white flag of surrender, we all happily withdrew our troops back towards camp, everyone celebrating and excited for the end of this conflict and the leaders getting together to discuss what came next as this was a somewhat unexpected outcome. We had been waiting to hear word from Tyrosh that Myr had conceded this conflict and made reparations, but this was a total surrender of the Golden Company, possibly without the consent or knowledge of Myr. It left many of us wondering if we were going to actually be storming the gates of the wealthy city itself, now that their only remaining defenders had surrendered.
Cregan asked for me and the other lietenants to accompany him to the official surrender under parlay, and I told my own officers to remain vigilant in case we needed to continue our march towards Myr to put more pressure on them to concede this conflict. With that done, I presented myself under the large tent flying under the white parlay flag out front of the final outpost, seeing my fellow lieutenants and Captain among several other leaders of the various sellsword companies we fought with. I had only just arrived when the battered looking main gate of the outpost opened and a group of six men on horseback came out under their own parlay flag to treat with us, and discover our terms for surrender.
The Golden Company was led by Ser Myles Toyne, also known as Blackheart, and was accompanied by five others who were quickly introduced, though only two of them stood out to me, the current paymaster Harry Strickland and bluebeard himself with his dominant arm wrapped against his body, introduced simply as Gryff. They were a surly and unpleasant lot, owing probably more to their defeat and having to surrender and concede to our wishes if they didn't want to be whipped out completely. Myr still had not sent word to Tyrosh of a cease on hostilities, so they were in a very unenviable position with no safety net or financial backing to pay us off.
I put forth the idea of them paying off their debt to us with men, equipment, horses, and even their War Elephants, as everyone of the five winning sellsword companies wanted something from them in compensation. The Second Sons wanted the Elephants and nothing else, while the Chained Men, the Lost Sons, and the Company of Shields were more interested in horses and equipment but had to get second picks after us, as we were the strongest of all the sellsword companies, and the most deserving of the bulk of the rewards. Cregan had mentioned that he was currently in talks with the Lost Sons and the Company of Shields to join us, so anything they got would eventually benefit us as well.
Cregan, as our leader and the overall leader of the Tyroshi campaign, was responsible for the final decision and division of assets once the defeated Golden Company agreed to our terms, to avoid being killed to the last man. The final agreement of the Golden Company's surrender was a forfeiture of their wealth, equipment, and men leaving all but 100 of their important officers and their families from being taken by the victors, and after they signed the terms of surrender, the group returned to their outpost to start dividing up their assets and settling their debt. Cregan kept all the officers in the parlay tent for the time being as he went over the resources to be divided and figured out how to justifiably compensate each group somewhat evenly.
The Second Sons were awarded the twelve remaining War Elephants and 50 archers, while the Chained Men were awarded 100 horses, 50 archers, ¼ of the armor and weapons, and 1,000 golden dragons from the Golden Company. The Lost Sons were to receive 100 infantry men, ¼ of the armor and weapons, and 1,000 golden dragons, while the Company of the Shield were to receive 100 horses, 100 archers, ¼ of the armor and weapons, and 1,000 golden dragons. The Company of the Rose was going to be receiving the bulk of the share, with 300 archers, 350 pikemen, 150 infantry, 400 cavalry, 50 horses, ¼ of the armor and weapons, 2,000 golden dragons, all the tents and miscellaneous supplies, and the 1,000 plus camp helpers.
Everyone was pretty happy with the division, though some may have seen the Company of the Rose getting too much, none could deny that we had also done the majority of the fighting and taken the most losses that needed to be compensated for. With Cregan the overall commander, nobody was going to complain too much, as we were still due to receive our remaining pay from Tyrosh, and hopefully some of the spoils offered by Myr so that we didn't route and loot their city. By the time the outpost's gates were opened again and men and supplies were being brought out by the defeated Golden Company, our officers were again in high spirits, and eager to get their spoils.
I and my fellow lieutenants all helped Cregan sort through the forces being turned over, dividing them evenly, and even asking the former Golden Company members if there were people they wanted to stay together with in some cases. It brought a good bit of good will to our new members, who were having some trouble adjusting to the fact that they were basically traded to the enemy to keep the officers alive and together, and would hopefully help them integrate into our own forces easier. Once all the soldiers had been divided and distributed to the separate sellsword companies, the others went back to their camps leaving the large majority with us to incorporate into our own ranks.
"I have been asked to formally accept the Lost Sons and Company of Shields into the Company of the Rose," began Cregan when it was just us who remained, and he looked at each of his officers to gage our interest level. "I know Donnel will be leaving us soon to go back to his home in Westeros," he paused to look at me as the others all did the same, knowing I was always planning to return to Oldcastle. "With that in mind, I have decided to grant him and his infantry their freedom now to become their own company ...and was planning to let him have his pick of the new forces, within reason."
"I am grateful Captain," I spoke honestly and somewhat taken aback at the gesture, though also quite pleased as it left me in charge to start growing my own personal army to return to Westeros with. "I need some Cavalry and archers, maybe a few pikemen ...and if nobody else wants them, I'll take the camp helpers too."
"Really?" asked Lugo, probably the one lieutenant I got along the best with, "you don't want the infantry?"
"I've got infantry," I answered easily, "give me 200 cavalry, 100 archers, and 100 pikemen and I'll be happy."
"Done," spoke Cregan finally, "and unless anyone has any objections, we'll give you all the tents and camp helpers too."
"Sounds good to me," replied Lugo, who was quickly joined by Starfinder, Ben, and Jandai in agreement.
"Then it's settled," responded Cregan with a smile, "and let's not forget ...we still have to get paid by Tyrosh and most likely will receive some serious spoils from Myr too. I am proud of all of you ...we entered this campaign with a lot of questions and green men, but we are leaving victorious veterans who defeated the once great Golden Company and reduced them to practically nothing."
"Here here," I responded, smiling at the men around me that I had gotten to know and fought beside over the last two years, grateful for their help and understanding of my unique situation and honored to have fought with them.
Going to the remaining former Golden Company forces that were waiting for distribution, I went through their ranks carefully and asked several questions of the men before selecting the 100 archers, 100 pikemen, and 200 cavalry that would be accompanying me on the next part of my journey. I made sure to ask for those from Westeros who were not living in exile, for those who wouldn't be opposed to settling in the North, and those who had family among the camp helpers as they would all be coming with me as well. It made my selections much easier as I took those who fit one or more of those categories best and asked them all to follow me to their new camp, getting people to add to my numbers that would hopefully be okay integrating with my current forces.
I was grateful that our current camp was at the end of the larger army, and that it had room to grow in almost every direction, and stopped before entering and asked one of the guards to send word to my sargents to get over here. I then had to explain our newest additions to my friends and sargents, and plan for the expansion of our camp tripling in size if not more and sent them off to perform the task. While asking around my newest recruits, I learned that several of them had good experience and had long careers already within the Golden Company, and most were very unsure of the welcome they would be receiving, or how they would be treated and fit into another company of sellswords.
"I know many of you are probably worried," I spoke loudly getting the attention of all the lined up soldiers, and hopefully reached the camp helpers even further back carting the tents and equipment we were given, "but, please be assured that you will be treated fairly by me and my men, and if anyone has a problem, to please come and see me. This will be a difficult transition for many of you, who will need to integrate into my already existing forces, and take orders from others you don't know well or haven't built up the years of trust you have with your former leaders, but please be patient and we will survive and thrive through this expansion and joining of forces."
Tristifer arrived at that moment, and told me they had started clearing the far right and back side of our square shaped camp to allow for the newcomers to come in and grow our size considerably, and I relayed those orders to the newest groups. I asked them to set up tents in an orderly and uniform pattern, keeping like troops together, and invited them to look around our camp to see how my current soldiers did things and try to copy them as best they could for now. I tasked Tristifer and Rickard with getting our men to come set up tents and help keep things in order and patterned to fit together with the rest of our camp, while I continued to meet with my newest soldiers and get to know them better.
It took two days of ramped up activity to actually get all the new tents, soldiers, and camp helpers squared away how I wanted it, keeping to our original square structure with a large open area in the center, now expanded to accommodate our greater numbers. The newcomers were all somewhat shocked at the closeness and seamless integration of soldiers and camp helpers, and those with family among the helpers were the quickest to appreciate and integrate among the rest. I met every new soldier, marked a few I thought might be trouble and would require some extra eyes and handling, and also marked those I felt would do well in leadership roles among their peers.
During those two days, I was also given a small number of soldiers from the other divisions within the Company of the Rose, as they were mostly my friends who had gathered others, mostly former Westerosi who longed to return home with a purpose, or those looking for a new start in the North, and were given leave by their commanders to come and join my company. Luckily, they all knew me, my friends and our goals and were willing to follow me, so I was quite pleased as they became the de facto leaders of my newest platoons for now. They at least knew and trusted me, and I them, in order to make them the perfect leaders for my new pikemen, archers, and cavalry units and really helped me get a better handle on the now much larger company I was now in charge of and needed a name.
"What about the Wandering Souls?" came the name suggestion from Sydel, as my smaller group of friends were all sitting around the command tent trying to sort out jobs and tasks that still needed to be done, and everyone kept coming back to the name of their new sellsword company.
"How about the Northern Shields or Northern Swords?" came the suggestion from his cousin Juden.
"The Locke Lords?" came Tristifer's suggestion.
"The Berserkers?" supplied the Burke brothers, a name I had taken to calling the pair of them, as Cale and Cletin had both really changed and grown a bit wild in the last years and few who knew them before would probably recognize them.
"I like the idea of having Locke as part of it," said Raymar, tapping the Locke's Crossed Keys engraved on his breastplate, "how about Locke's Keys?"
"What about Locke's Legion?" came my entry, deciding we needed to pick something and move on, and liking the sound and idea behind it.
"Locke's Legion?" came the response from pretty much everyone, as they ran the name through their lips and thought about it, slowly getting several nods and smiles as everyone seemed to agree that it was a great choice and we had several hundred already outfitted soldiers wearing the Crossed Keys of House Locke.
We had to do a serious readjustment and reorganization of our camp after the influx of the new units, as I wanted to keep the Cavalry people and horses close together, keep the same general square structure with a central open square where the camp congregated. Protected inside the outermost circle of soldiers' tents, then the inner circle of officers and camp helpers, to help keep them better protected. Realizing that we were soon going to be completely on our own and separated from the other sellsword companies, I also had to make plans to add a few things like defenses and other portable industries to help keep us all fed and clothed.
Many of the newcomers didn't have much to their names after most of their extra gear and supplies were used in the negotiations, and it would take some time to get them all outfitted with the essentials, though getting all the camp helpers and tents was a huge boon in that regard. Even better, was after three days when we received word from Tyrosh that Myr had admitted defeat and paid heavy reparations to Tyrosh that would soon be delivered to us along with the final payments of our contract. With that money, I was hoping to fully supply my new sellsword company, now called Locke's Legion, for a campaign of our own through the Disputed Lands towards Lys to give them a chance to bond and train into a more cohesive unit.
Not only was Tyrosh going to pay our contract with a bonus, but we were also asked to meet with the Magisters of Myr to discuss surrender terms, and I was asked by Cregan to be a part of the reparations discussion as a commander of my own forces now and a former member of the winning side. We were invited into the city of Myr for negotiations and the distribution of reparations, which was a fascinating trip that I wouldn't pass up. With me were Sydel and Timet Flowers, an archer from the former Golden Company and newcomer to my ranks who was originally from the Reach, spoke impeccably well low Valarian, and was grateful to me for being allowed to stay with his mother and young sister who joined us as camp helpers.
Tristifer was back with the Legion developing training regimens for all our new soldiers and ensuring they were all up to a certain standard, and marking those who excelled or those that were helpful to others for a larger role within the unit. So far, we had been really pleased with the archers and cavalry as they were used heavily and were experienced and skilled at what they did, while the pikemen had been under utilized by the Golden Company and therefore were not nearly as sharp as the others and would take some time getting up to par. Tristifer really was a godsend, a great friend, who fought and lived hard, who respected others without any of the arrogance most upper level soldiers carried, and a great second in command.
Tristifer barely even resembled the young man he was when we first met, marching south to war against the Greyjoys, and those who knew him then still teased and wondered what happened to that scrawny boy. He had significantly filled out his frame and grown to well over six and a half feet tall, with a thick barrel chest and arms that many would envy and a friendly disposition. He was very demanding of the soldiers and himself when it came time to fight and train, but he more than most also knew how to let loose and relax with the very best of them.
He, along with my other sergeants, were all going to be elevated to lieutenants soon once we finalized the restructuring of our forces and I had the people in place to lead each of the separate units within our larger force. Sydel, Juden, Axel, and Geremy had all performed really well also, and would be promoted soon among the infantry, along with Timet who would most likely become one of the leaders of my archers along with Sondry, who came from the Company of the Rose, and was a former hedge knight from the Stormlands that was wicked good with a bow. The cavalry was currently working with Ser Gerold Jast, a former knight from the Westerlands, and Ser Royce Kellington, a former knight of the Stormlands, while the Pikemen were training under my friend Jaryd Snow and Lotho, a Summer Islander who was recommended by Starfinder. My friend Raymar and his 40 remaining scouts were also going to be included and upgraded if we had the chance, as I had learned their value over these past six month's against the Golden Company.
The negotiations were held in one of the largest and most luxurious palaces I had ever seen in both lives, and I think it was primarily done as a show of power and wealth of Myr, though it only made me realize whatever we were getting wasn't as much as it could have been. Our army was offered the usual payment of 50,000 gold dragons, several wagons full of gems, weapons, glass, and silks in payment for their defeat, which I could tell Cregan was about to accept. It was a nice package, and would serve us all very well, but I don't think he realized how much we had Myr over the barrel in this instance, as they had very little in the way of a standing army to defend their city, and with the Golden Company now disbanded, they were completely defenseless against any invading force.
"Make it 100,000 gold dragons," I spoke up quickly before Cregan could say anything and then continued as the wide eyed magisters all focused on me, "double the currently offered wagon loads of goods, add four wagons of grain, four wagons of dried meat, and 20,000 slaves between the ages of ten to twenty ...and we won't destroy your city and take everything."
Cregan and the other leaders of their sellsword companies were all looking at me in shock at my demands, but I paid them no mind at all, focusing on the now glaring magisters, who probably thought they could pull one over on us, as we were typically fighters and not negotiators. The four of them huddled quickly together, shooting me occasional glares of anger, but I ignored them and stood tall in their face. After a small conference together, they turned back to us with absolute hatred in their eyes and clenched jaws, but could do nothing to us and weren't nearly as intimidating as they thought they were.
"Fine," said the lead magister through his gritted teeth, "you have a deal."
I read over the written up contract detailing the reparations carefully, had Timet go over it as well before I nodded, and Cregan stepped forward to sign the agreement after the magisters did the same. We then were led out of the elaborate palace and back towards the gates of the city where our goods were being gathered for us to take. A few shouted instructions from the lead magister, and several more wagons were brought forth to be loaded with the additional goods, and someone else was sent off deeper into the city hopefully to gather our newest slaves.
"I'll take responsibility for the slaves," I spoke quietly to Cregan, so as not to be overheard by others, and was following along in shock still at my impressive negotiating of our deal with the magisters of Myr. "I'll need most of the food too to keep them fed, any extra wagons you can spare, and you can take my cut of that out of the money."
"Are you kidding?" he asked me in shock still, not having completely recovered from how much more I won them in negotiations, "without you ...we wouldn't have half of what we do ...you'll get whatever you want of the supplies and an even split of the money too."
"Thanks Cregan," I replied honestly, touched that he valued my help so much that he would reward me even further for my added help to them all, though it was going to prove immensely helpful and didn't even cut into the gains he and the rest of our side won.
For the rest of the day we watched as countless wagons were loaded with all of our loot and food, while slowly more and more young slaves were brought forth and counted, and I made sure none that were too young to handle the stresses of a march were included unless they had family with them. By nightfall, they finally reached the 20,000 slaves, and they were all that was left, as the wagon loads had already been taken out of the city and just the turning over of the slaves was left. Cregan had stayed with me, and ordered Lugo to tell Tristifer what was happening to better prepare our insanely growing camp, and to provide an escort of the large number of slaves out of Myr.
"I hope you know what you are doing with those slaves?" he asked me in a low voice, as we were still being watched angrily by the magisters.
"I plan to free them all and let them join the Legion as free men and women," I answered with a smile towards his shocked face. "I'll give them transport and security to another city if they don't want to join, but the rest will come and settle into Oldcastle to help boost our low population, or join the Legion and fight when they get old enough and act as squires to learn the ropes."
"You are an ambitious man, Donnel," he replied with a smile and slight shake of his head, probably thinking of the logistics of keeping up with such a large camp, "and a damn fine one too."
"Thanks Cregan," I responded with a grin of my own, "you're not too bad yourself."
His booming laugh had the magisters and nearby slaves looking at us in anger or shock depending on how well they were dressed, and soon the last of the young slaves were counted. Raising my voice to be heard by at least the nearest slaves, I told them all to follow me to my army's camp, and to tell the others the same and to keep up and keep together. With that we slowly walked out of Myr, leading a large group of young slaves of every size, shape, ethnicity, and gender towards my camp with several hundred of my own infantry men waiting just outside the city gates to complete our escort.
In my head, I was already thinking about how to integrate 20,000 people into my current total of 2,500, of which half of those were camp helpers. I would really need to make a push to try and convince a lot of the newly arriving slaves to take up positions within the Legion, just to help keep control of and protect everything that now was falling to me. One of the first plans I needed to make was for securing and enlarging every aspect of my Legion, every industry, and profession would have an influx of new blood in the next few days, and I needed to be ready for that.
Food and supplies were going to be the next biggest hurdle to overcome, but I was confident with the money coming in, I would be able to get a decent start on increasing industry and production within my Legion. Language and education was going to be another big problem, but I was determined to make this work, and would find people among the Legion to help educate and teach others in order to survive. It was also going to require a lot more of the ideas I had to implement, namely building industries that were helpful and portable, like tailoring and weaving, forging and repairing weapons and armor, kitchens, granaries and distilleries, and countless others that hadn't even been fully fleshed out but I knew would be needed down the road.