Pyke

[Lilith Royce]

Bella Blacktyde was bemused at her new salt husband. He was the most silent man she'd ever met. He answered direct questions--he had come from King's Landing, he'd been in the Battle of the Wall, he had some training in numbers--and he obeyed orders unless he felt them wrong or demeaning, in which case he denied her barked commands with a simple no. He had never volunteered another word.

And he had been a virgin before she had taken him the morning after he had been captured. He had been put in her bed to recover and as usual she had crawled in naked under the covers as well. He was skinny but not unmuscled and did warm a bed well. That morning, when they both awoke, she had brushed her hand against and found evidence of a rising morning tide. He smiled when she did so, the first smile she'd seen from him, and even more broadly when she'd straddled him, and damn surprised when she made his tide overflow so quickly. That was when he'd answered her question about whether it was his first time with a simple "Yes" and a wandering hand that brought her own tide rapidly forth. He was untutored but very bright, and soon was reading her sighs and grunts with unerring accuracy.

When, a few days later and after a string of questions, Bella found that he had not only trained in numbers but was the son of a merchant that even she had heard of, she thought that perhaps Balor should know about him. They walked up to Seastone to find that they were in a flurry over Balor's invitation to Casterly Rock for a conference with the Bald Lion.

"Balor," shouted Bella over the din, "I have a drowned greenland man who could be useful to ya."

[lordbalorgreyjoy]

Lord Balor frowned "Another one?" glancing at Edmure "It seems we are being overrun" he smiled
"So who is he Bella? He doesn't have the look of a seafaring man"

[Lilith Royce]

"Silent Man doesn't have much to say for himself," she answered in her usual booming voice, "But I think he was drowned and reborn for a purpose. He fought at the Battle of the Wall and knows the ways of the merchants of the land. I got out of him that he's the son of a big merchant in King's Landing, might be useful when dealing with all those greenlanders."

[lordbalorgreyjoy]

"Pagh! Merchants!" Lord Balor exclaimed in disgust "I'd be quiet about that as well. Still if he truly survived the Battle of the Wall he may be of some use. Bring him with us on Tidebreaker if you would Bella. We sail for the Rock shortly" Lord Balor strode off towards the harbour, his pace quickening as though he was eager to be upon the sea oncemore.

[Lilith Royce]

Bella grinned. She'd had the same reaction herself to him being a merchant. A bunkmate on the voyage, however, would be a fine thing.

Amdle was having the time of his life. Everything that had gone before him seemed happen under the surface of the water. He avoided words because he distrusted them, couldn't read the currents that ran below. Here words had solidity, they floated above the surface for all to see. He smiled, and thought or maybe it is only that Bella has a solidity that I have learned to crave. Where she went, he would follow.

[Percy Rivers]

Edmure sighed, leaving for Casterly Rock meant leaving the Majestic here, he couldn't risk the Lannisters recognizing the ship. It seemed for the moment though that he was under the command of Balor Greyjoy. Did the mission entail this? Edmure didn't know, but what he did know was that to keep the loyalty of the Ironborn he needed to stay with them to ensure it. As he left for the harbour he found the two men with chest of gold by the door. "Leave the chest, but grab a few of those coins for me, I mean to ask my lord of Lannister about them."

[lordbalorgreyjoy]

A small fleet of 15 longships set sail for the Rock; Tidebreaker commanded by Bella Blacktyde, The Iron Price captained by Edmure Seaworth and Balor himself in The Iron Kraken. The following wind was kind and no-one knew these waters better than the ironborn. They would arrive soon.

[lordbalorgreyjoy]

Grimon carefully climbed the stairs of the rookery on Pyke. He had done so since he had apprenticed under the previous maester Allon so many years ago. The stairs were rain-slick smooth from the tred of innumerable footsteps over the centuries.
He sighed as he reached the top. He was getting old now he thought ruefully, rubbing his hip. He hobbled his way into the rookery "Hello, my little friends" he said as he walked in and the caws of the ravens greeted him. He fed some morsels of meat to them and stroked their heads. He sometimes felt more at home here than on the sea. He had never been a good sailor which is why his father had given him to the maester in disgust when he had turned 8. Happily for Grimon, he had taken to the duties well and had only received the strap and lash when deserved.
He was taken out of his reverie by the arrival of a raven on the sill. It tilted it's head and cawed loudly at him, cautiously hopping into the rookery, eyeing the meaty chunks on the plate. "Be still, my friend" Grimon said, smiling and slowly reached for the raven. It was well trained and used to human hands and deigned to sit quietly as he removed the message from it's container on his leg. Once done, he put down the raven and patted it's head "Good friend" he said, and absent-mindedly gave him a few titbits from the plate. The message was from Blacktyde he noted. He opened the parchment and read the message which was short, to the point and written crudely. Not many ironborn practised penmanship but Grimon was well used to deciphering Blacktyde's writings. Grimon read and transcribed the message onto a larger parchment on the desk, left for such purposes. His swift strong strokes quickly duplicated the message. Once done, he quickly blotted the paper to seal it and only then read it. His eyebrows rose as the meaning of the missive became clear. He sighed and got up, hobbling down the stairs with care. He knew that this needed to be sent to Lord Balor immediately and as he was in Casterly Rock he knew it could not be trusted to raven. He went to seek Lord Botley and arrange for a fast courier ship to be sent to Lannisport to hand deliver it to Balor personally.

[lordbalorgreyjoy]

Shortly afterwards a fast ship sets sail from Pyke, bound for Lannisport.

[lordbalorgreyjoy]

Lord Balor's small fleet pull in to Pyke once more and as soon as they had disembarked, Balor headed for the keep and the rookery. Bullying Grimon out of bed, they climbed the stairs as Balor dictated a message for Halon at Bracken's keep, asking for an update on how things are proceeding. Once that was sent off, Balor left for the main hall. Throughout the night, messengers are sent and enter the hall and slowly the ironborn's longships begin gather at Pyke from the other islands, in an awesome display of naval might and teeming with hardened raiders. All are eager for the battle to come.
It was time for the ironborn to rise up again.

[lordbalorgreyjoy]

Another raven arrived from Halon. Grimon sighed and went through the ritual again, transcribing Halon's rough missive into something more legible for Balor and shuffled his way painfully towards his audience chamber. He resolved to get himself an apprentice to help him with his duties, he could feel the age in his bones now.
Balor was, as always recently, hunched over the table intently staring at a map of westeros. Not all of the islands had come to his call yet but some of the more powerful, Lords Goodbrother of Hammerhorn and Lord Sparr of Great Wyk had arrived, along with Lord Drumm of Old Wyk who's immense size made even Lord Balor who was a tall man, seem childish by comparison.
"A letter from Blacktyde, milord" he said softly as he entered, holding out the parchment. Balor's frown lifted and he eagerly took the note, scanning it's contents quickly. He stopped, considering the map again "Hmm. Halon tells that Bracken and all the riverlords he could muster are ready but it was not as many as I'd hoped..." Lord Drumm broke in with a gravelly voice, like two boulders crashing into the sea "Mmmm. We do not need weak riverlanders milord. My men can crush them!" he held out his huge hands and mimicked a strangling motion. "I know, old friend" Balor said with a grin "But why do all the dying when the soft green men will do it for us? Plus, we want this to seem a 'liberation' from the Blackwood rule as much as a conquest" Lord Drumm looked sceptical but nodded reluctantly.
Lord Goodbrother pointed at the map "So we have allies, here and here then?" he motioned. At Balor's nod he carried on "In that case milord, I suggest we land some men here, away from prying eyes, and the rest here. That way we catch them on both sides and Lord Drumm" he smiled at the immense man to his right "Can crush them? We do not have our full strength yet, but I think if we leave the men much longer they will fight amongst themselves. Old emnities and all that" Balor's pale eyes flashed "They will not if they value their lives" he snarled "Make sure you bottle their rage for the enemy, Goodbrother. I want them ready to sail by tomorrow"
Lord Goodbrother nodded and left, with Lord Sparr in his wake. Lord Drumm mumbled some excuses and left also. Once they left, Balor sank into his chair and with a weary grin looked at Grimon "A tough crowd to please at times, eh Grimon? But I must or else we will descend into petty squabbling again. The lure of plunder and war will keep them happy for the nonce but I must make sure that they do not grow lazy and fat from it" he placed his hand on his brow and closed his eyes. Grimon stood uncomfortably, unsure whether or not he was dismissed. As he made to leave he heard Balor whisper "Harren's Folly. Will it claim us again?" in a soft voice. Grimon hesitated, then left the Lord of Pyke with his dark thoughts.

[lordbalorgreyjoy]

The next day Balor sets sail with a large fleet from Pyke, for places as yet unknown.

[lordbalorgreyjoy]

As they days pass, more ironlanders gather on Pyke. The Harlaws of Harlaw attend, with all their cousins and minor branches, Lords Farlaw, Stonetree, Stonehouse, Sunderly, Wynch and Merlyn all gather their men.
Once their numbers reach 5,000 Lord Botely sends them forth, to meet with Bella Blacktyde by the ruins of Oldstones

[lordbalorgreyjoy]

Bella was in a techy mood. The sudden storms which sprang up around Pyke had prevented her from sailing back with the additional 2,000 men Lord Balor had asked for and Amdle had stopped speaking to her for some reason. Perhaps it had something to do with her loaning him out to one of her uglier friends as a bed companion last week, she mused. She would make it up to him she decided.

Grimon limped into the chamber with Ulfgar his new apprentice, holding another note. Bella rolled her eyes. She was near as sick of receiving notes covered in raven shit as Grimon was of writing them she was sure. After quickly scanning it, she cursed and shook her head, calling Balor all manner of inconcievable things imaginable. Amdle would have to wait.

She walked out towards the harbour to sort out the ships she needed. Soon another fleet was sailing out from Pyke. Bella hoped the good weather would hold for a little while longer before winter's grip fastened.

[lordbalorgreyjoy]

The last of the ironborn ships return to Pyke. Balor looked out across the prow at the skies above. He was glad they had made it back so quickly, he did not like the look of the clouds or the smell of ozone in the air. He could feel a storm coming, and a fierce one at that.
Once docked, the plunder and wounded were disembarked and taken to his citadel. Balor knew the other ironborn sailors could also see the storms coming and were taking the necessary precautions. Only fools tied ships up during them, the bravest and best took them out into the open sea to weather it out rather than be dashed against the jetty walls or swamped by the crashing waves. Balor half wished to be out there with them, he never felt more alive than when at the helm of his ship.

Putting such thoughts out of his head, he headed for the keep. He doubted that Callen would be foolish enough to attempt to invade the Iron Islands in winter, especially with the Mad Lion rattling his sword but it never hurt to be prepared. He smiled. Let them come, he thought. The Drowned God could always use a few more souls.