Read my new story >>Marvel *Villain Points* (Evil MC)
CaveLeather
Outside Seagard, the battlefield between the ironborn and the men of the Trident.
"The little kraken's dead!"
"The little kraken's dead!"
"Dark Knight! Dark Knight!"
The cavalry roared the words, the sound rolling across the field like thunder.
Maron Greyjoy and Haras Harlaw froze mid-fight, eyes wide with disbelief. There was nowhere left to run.
"What? The heir is dead?"
"Fuck this—run!" the ironborn still aboard their longships shouted. Oars hit the water hard as they pulled away without a second thought.
No loyalty among reavers. When the tide turned, they left their own to die on the causeway.
Rodrik Greyjoy, Balon's eldest son and heir to the Iron Islands, was gone. His head now rode the point of a lance, a grim trophy for the victors. The golden kraken banner lay trampled in the mud.
The Riverlands knights in yellow and purple cloaks wove through the ironborn ranks like wolves, lances and swords rising and falling. The slope was thick with dead ironborn.
"Kill the krakens! Kill every last one!"
"Take their heads!"
The Riverlands riders were in a killing frenzy. No mercy. No quarter. The ironborn had burned Lannisport and come to Seagard for easy plunder. Now the hunters had become the hunted.
A few ironborn tried to beg for ransom. Their pleas died with them.
Arthur watched the slaughter with cold satisfaction. "Clean work. Send the rest to meet their Drowned God."
He turned to Rolly and the others. "I'm going to collect my other prize."
Haras Harlaw was still alive. Nightfall still danced in his hands—that famous Valyrian steel blade, dark as smoke.
Arthur wanted it. And he intended to take it.
---
Rodrik's death shattered what remained of the ironborn line. Maron Greyjoy saw his brother's head on the lance and nearly broke. His longships were already fleeing. The men who had followed Rodrik ashore were trapped and dying.
Jason Mallister gave him no time to grieve.
"Don't look away, Maron. I'm your opponent now."
The Lord of Seagard smiled like a man who had waited years for this fight. His sword flicked out, fast and precise, forcing Maron into a desperate defense. Both men had dismounted; now it was steel on steel, boot to boot.
Maron was young, strong, and full of fire. But Jason Mallister had been killing men since before Maron could walk. Experience told.
On the other side of the field, Ser Lucas Dayne fought Haras Harlaw.
"Rodrik…" Haras muttered, voice cracking. His friend was dead. His men were falling. He was running out of time.
"Come on then, Harlaw," Lucas said calmly. "Show me what that fancy sword can do."
Haras lunged, Nightfall flashing. Lucas met every strike with perfect economy, never letting the younger man commit fully. The Valyrian steel blade hissed through the air, but Lucas turned it aside again and again, letting Haras waste his strength.
"You're too young, boy. My sword's older than you."
"Fight me properly, you coward!"
Lucas only smiled. "I'm just keeping you busy until the real fight arrives."
Haras realized too late what was happening. He had become a training post.
Then Arthur rode up, black armor gleaming, yellow cloak snapping behind him. Rolly and the others followed, Rodrik's head still on the lance.
Haras's remaining men were gone. Only he and a handful of stubborn ironborn were left.
"Your turn, Ser Haras," Arthur said, voice calm and bright. "Nightfall looks good in my hand."
Haras stared at the lance. At Rodrik's dead eyes. Something inside him snapped.
"You killed him! He was a giant!"
"He was a fool who picked the wrong fight," Arthur answered. "And now you're going to die the same way unless you make a smarter choice."
He nodded at the sword. "Leave Nightfall. Let your family ransom you. House Harlaw has gold. You could live to inherit your uncle's seat when the Reader's sons are gone. Balon's rebellion is already dead. You don't have to die with it."
Haras spat. "Nightfall is my family's pride. I won't hand it to a thief."
Arthur's smile never wavered. "Then let me tell you how your family got that sword in the first place. Dalton the Red Kraken took it from a beaten pirate and named it Nightfall. After Dalton's throat was cut, your house stole it during the chaos. So who's really the thief here?"
He gave Haras one last chance. "Yield. Live."
Haras answered by charging, Nightfall raised high.
Arthur sighed. "Wrong choice."
---
The two blades met with a ringing crash.
Haras fought like a man possessed, pouring every ounce of strength into wild, powerful swings. Nightfall was a masterpiece—light, impossibly sharp, singing through the air. But Arthur met him with perfect timing and terrifying calm.
Every time Haras committed to a heavy cut, Arthur was already moving, turning the blow aside or stepping inside the arc. The Valyrian steel left deep notches in Arthur's ordinary longsword, but it never broke through.
"You're fast," Arthur said, almost conversationally. "But not fast enough."
Haras roared and swung again. Arthur dropped his own blade mid-clash, stepped in, and caught Nightfall's hilt with his Valyrian steel gauntlet. The black metal closed like a vice.
Haras's eyes went wide. "You'll lose your hand!"
Arthur twisted. Nightfall came free.
"I already told you," he said quietly. "There are no invincible swords. Only invincible men."
He flipped the blade in his grip and drove it straight through Haras Harlaw's chest.
The ironborn knight gasped once, blood bubbling at his lips. Then he slid off the sword and hit the ground.
Arthur cleaned Nightfall on Haras's cloak and sheathed it at his side.
The last pockets of resistance broke. The ironborn who could still run tried to reach the water. Most never made it.
Seagard's gates opened wider. More men poured out—archers, spearmen, townsfolk with whatever weapons they could grab. The battle turned into a slaughter.
By the time the sun climbed higher, it was over.
Rodrik Greyjoy's head still rode the lance. Haras Harlaw's body lay cooling on the causeway. Nightfall now belonged to Arthur Whent.
Jason Mallister rode up beside him, breathing hard, armor spattered with blood.
"You fight like the gods sent you," Jason said. "The ironborn will remember this day."
Arthur wiped the last of the blood from Nightfall's edge.
"They'll remember the price of crossing the Trident."