AN :
Next goal for another extra chapter is 750 power stones.
In the Game of Stones, you either win or you wait. The more Power Stones you offer, the faster the chapters come.
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Qyburn felt his lip stiffen, but the man he'd been talking to, the cavalryman, was already moving, racing past him to rush to the sword stand across the room, already bellowing orders to the militia. "To arms men! To arms! Hold the Gatehouse! Man the Walls! Where there's one Ironborn there's 20!"
...
Qyburn looked around, not sure what he was supposed to do, as the men began to stir from their seats. He certainly wasn't a fighter, not even at the level of a typical farmhand… After a moment of thought, he decided that the best place to be would be at Lord Callum's side.
At the very least he could make sure that his chamber was locked properly and barred, and hunker down there until the proper fighting men cleared the enemy from the castle.
In a rush, he sprinted back towards the main keep, passing by men rushing to get their weapons and shields and such, all moving back and forth along the walls. Down into the hallways of the keep, up the stairs, and through the door. Panting and puffing, Qyburn could hear his heart thundering in his chest as he rushed into his Master's room at a run. "Lord Callum- There's an intruder in the-" his words died in his chest as he caught sight of the room.
By the bed, an armored figure stood, a heavy helmet with a mesh of chainmail from the nose down covered everything except the Ironborn's eyes, with a big fur cloak over his shoulders and a longsword in his right hand, his left was around Lord Callum's wrist, clearly in the middle of dragging the boy out of bed.
Qyburn saw it, saw Callum's eyes reach up to meet his, saw the Ironborn turn to face him…
"GUARDS!" Qyburn shouted, "GUARDS IN HERE"
"You shouldn't have said that-" The Ironborn started, but he was distracted as Lord Callum tried to pull away from him, not letting the man approach Qyburn. Running on pure instinct, the academic snatched the nearest thing in reach, the incense burner left by the Septon earlier, and through it at the Ironborn. It missed, of course, Qyburn had never had a very good arm.
Still, it was one more distraction, and it slowed the man down as he dragged Lord Callum over, slamming the sick boy against his armored chest and holding him there in front of him.
Qyburn saw the man start to walk forward, raising his longsword, but then one of the militia shoved by Qyburn, and the man halted, as another three arrived behind him. Even untrained, four men against one was bad odds, and he could hear even more coming up the halls. The Ironborn could too, as he changed his tactic at once.
The blade came to rest in front of Callum's neck, like an oversized knife ready to slit the boy's throat.
"You Greenlanders are going to let me pass, or I'll take this brat to the drowned God with me."
"My father will skin you alive if you hurt me, and if you hurt me at all, you'll die anyway," Callum said in his croaking voice, coughing slightly. "You might as well surrender, this was foolhardy."
"Quit your tongue or I'll cut it out for you!" The Ironborn said, looking at Qyburn. "You! Old man! Tell them to let me pass or the boy dies!"
Qyburn looked at Callum. The boy met his eyes.
Callum shook his head.
Qyburn nodded. "Men… let him pass." Qyburn had come to his decision. His heart was pounding. It had never stopped pounding, he felt his stomach sinking. The risk- the danger. There was no good answer in a situation like this, but he had to follow through with the decision he'd made.
The Ironborn's chuckle was dark as the Militiamen looked nervously between him and Qyburn, but Qyburn spoke louder again. "Let him pass. That is your lord's son."
"Qyburn…" Callum said, sounding betrayed, but Qyburn met his eyes again, and Callum blinked in surprise, as the Ironborn man started to drag him towards the door.
"At least one Greenlander here can see-" That was as far as the man got, right next to the door, because Qyburn with a yell, grabbed his sword arm, pulling it back from Callum's throat with a heave.
"Ahhhhh!" Qyburn screamed as he pulled back on the arm with all his force. He could barely see what was happening, all he knew was that he was hanging off of the arm and pulling it back, away from his charge.
He heard the grunt as Callum let himself fall to the ground, buckling his knees, and heard the shouts as the militia realized what was going on- dogpiling the Ironborn who was now grappled. The fight became a scrum on the floor as Qyburn felt something sharp slice his face.
He knew it was bad when he tasted blood on his lips, but he didn't stop wrestling with the armored man. Not until he saw a small flailing limb and saw his chance, pulling Callum from the brawl even as the Ironborn managed to throw one of the militia off of him, getting to his feet but leaving his longsword behind.
The man didn't even turn back to look at Callum or Qyburn, rushing out of the room like the hounds of hell were behind him. Or in this case, an entire castle full of soldiers.
"Qyburn- Qyburn! Are you alright? Hold on!" Callum's croaky voice came, as Qyburn touched his face and found his palm come back red.
'Hmmm,' The Black Maester thought, the taste of copper thick in his mouth as the pain flared across his nose. In his work, he'd sliced open plenty of subjects, some willing, others not. He'd never been cut this badly himself though. It hurt a great deal. 'I rather don't like it.'
...
( Balon Greyjoy POV )
"That's it huh…" Tolvi muttered under his breath, looking up at the castle of Reddinghall. It was the only source of light for miles, a stone keep and a short curtain wall, 12 feet high on top of a shallow hill and surrounded by brushland. "Not much of a castle is it?"
"Quiet." Balon said, his voice firm but barely over a whisper. "And keep low or this won't work."
"Aye," Rodrick muttered beside him. "Keep your head down Tolvi."
Balon sized the place up. He'd been to a lot of castles before and thought about how he'd take most of them. It was something he'd always done since he was a boy, dreaming of great battles, glory, and plunder.
Well now he was a man, and here was his chance.
'A lot of men on the walls.' he scratched his chin, bedded down in the brambles. 'looks like they noticed their scout went missing.' his gaze drifted up the sky. He was lucky it was overcast, the night was pitch-black, and it let the rest of his forces move right up near the castle without being spotted. They had orders to rush in and kill the Greenlanders once the gates were open. He'd brought Tolvi and Rodrik with him because they were his best warriors, and best suited for the mission he had planned.
The idea was simple. He'd scale the walls somewhere quietly, let Tolvi and Rodrik up with the rope in his back. Then he'd go kidnap the Lannister brat, haul him out at swordpoint, and order the fort to let him out the front gate or he'd kill the boy. The Lannister soldiers would do it, and when the gate was opened up his men, waiting in the dark a ways off from the castle, would rush in and take the castle from the weak Greenlanders guarding it.
That was the plan at least, but with the number of guards on the wall, Balon was having a hard time finding a spot where he could climb it and not be seen. It wasn't altogether that large a castle and it was heavily manned.
Looking at it, his eyes eventually drifted to the tall drum keep on the back of the fortress. At least sixty feet high, it had taller battlements than the rest of the fortress, but, as he watched, he could see only one watchman up on top of it, looking down over the rest of the keep with a crossbow.
Balon tapped his finger on the cold, dry ground slightly, and whispered to his companions "How many stags would you bet that man atop the battlements never checks the back side of the keep."
"Hmm?" Tolvi mumbled, looking up. "I don't see why he would, it's set at the steepest part of the hill, and tall enough that no sane man would climb it." He paused. "With battlements like that, he'd need to lean over the side to look at the base anyway."
"Then that's where we'll strike," Balon said decisively. "No sane man aye- but I'm a squid." He chuckled darkly.
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