Chapter 41 - Pyke

𝐎𝐟𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐬𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐏𝐲𝐤𝐞

If I remember correctly, the town of Lordsport was meant to be the largest town in the Iron Islands, and if Maester Creylen was right, then every other town across the archipelago must be more akin to a village. The town was built in a large alcove on the beach, flanked by squat crags on both sides. Its port, which the town is famous for, nearly covered the entirety of the settlement, and even then it wasn't large enough to fit more than a dozen warships at a time, something I was only figuring out just now.

The keep of House Botley sat on top of one of the cliffs, overlooking the small town, however it would be more suitable to call it the former keep of House Botley, because it had been razed to the ground and now laid in a piling heap of charred, blackened wood and scorched stone, courtesy of Robert Baratheon.

The King must still be besieging the castle of Pyke at the moment. It had been a week since we had set off from Harlaw, along with 6,000 men, most of whom bore the banners of House Lannister and Marbrand. I had left Gerion at Harlaw with the rest of the army, whilst I had taken Tygett with me, Gerion was a much better diplomat than Tygett and despite what people may think, he can get serious when he needs to.

I plan to meet up with the King and join his siege, not only to keep my side of the agreement with Rodrik and protect the children of Balon Greyjoy, but also to maximise my achievements in the war and gain favour with the King. I didn't need to, nor did I necessarily want to, however I wasn't sure how he would react to the Alchemists Guild moving and the growing of the Westerlands, it would be for the best if I was to place myself in a positive position in his eyes.

As we neared closer to the town, I could recognise a few of the ships that were in it's port as ships that belonged to the Royal fleet, off-loading men and shipments onto the docks.

Docking at the Lordsport was troublesome, the ship I was on had to circumnavigate around several wreckages of ships that still laid in the harbour, something that would delay the process of unloading my men. Fortunately, the Redwyne sailors that were sailing the ship were skilled, and it didn't take more than twenty minutes for a few of the ships, mine included, to be fully moored.

"They're Stormlanders." Monty told me, I looked to the Royal ships on the other side of the port to spot a few banners I recognised, Grandison, Selmy, Swann among others.

"That means that they should've come from Old Wyk then, Barristan Selmy could be among them." I replied. It wasn't surprising that Ser Barristan succeeded in subduing Old Wyk, it was one of the smallest islands and the Stormlander host were skilled and possessed large numbers.

"Speak of the devil." Monty said, noticing a figure approach us in white, silver plate armour and an even brighter cloak.

"My Lord." Ser Barristan bows his head slightly, his armour had a few scratches and minor dents here and there.

"Lord Commander." I said, "I take it from your presence here that Old Wyk has been taken?"

Ser Barristan nods, "They put up a bit of a fight but conceded after a while, I assume it's the same for Harlaw?" I give a slight nod of my head to his question.

Having his question answered, Ser Barristan replies, "I must admit that I am impressed, Harlaw would always be a tough nut to crack, to take it so swiftly is quite the accomplishment."

"I wouldn't have been able to do it without my men." Ser Barristan seemed to have liked that. Arrogance was quite a familiar trait for Lannisters, but humbleness definitely had its uses.

"I recommend that we head to Pyke together, Ser Barristan, it'll be a day or two before all of my men are ready for march but it should help minimise the risk of being attacked." I told the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard.

"That won't be necessary, House Wynch's forces have been defeated by his Grace, there aren't enough Ironborn men outside Castle Pyke to attack either of our forces. Besides, my men are all ready to march, it'll be best if I am by his Grace's side as soon as possible." Ser Barristan replied.

"Well, we'll meet at the siege camp then." Ser Barristan nods his head before turning around and heading back to his men.

~

Pyke must be one of the most unique castles within Westeros. Its numerous towers and keeps were all interconnected by stone and rope bridges, like a spiders web; the islands that those towers sat on were once part of a great cliff that had slowly eroded away due to the waves relentlessly crashing against them.

The first line of defence for Pyke was a large curtain wall, one that spanned from shore to shore. It seemed to be under constant bombardment, trebuchets and mangonels spanned the whole southern side of the wall and must've numbered in the dozens. The damage those engines left behind were clear to see, the battlements were destroyed, leaving little for the defenders to hide behind and in line of sight for archers to pick them off. The main gatehouse seemed to be leaning slightly and every rock that was launched against the walls caused more and more of it to fall to the ground, adding to the pre-existing pile of rubble.

The encampment of the Royal army was relatively unfortified, not that it was a big issue, there was no-one on the island to defend against. If there was one thing I knew about Robert Baratheon, it was that the man lacked patience, he probably wanted to bring down those walls as swiftly as possible, hence the fact that fortifications were minor.

"How has the King managed to get so many siege engines?" I ask Tygett. The amount of artillery on the field down below was massive, the resources and people knowledgeable and skilled in making them must have been quite a cost.

"Whilst the Citadel is a relatively independent organization, the King does have some sway over them. There are more Maesters in their Order than there are castles in Westeros and for a large enough donation, the king can lease out some of them for a while." He replied, riding his horse beside me.

"I never knew that." I told him, it was something I 've never heard of before.

"I wouldn't be surprised." Tygett responded, "The Maester's rarely teach it, most of them don't like to show how reliable they are on others. Even then, the last time such a thing was used was during the Dance of the Dragons by Aegon II." Tygett had always been a bit of a history buff.

"I wouldn't have thought that Robert Baratheon would know of that." I said, Robert Baratheon was a man of action, not knowledge.

"Nor would I." My uncle replies, "Must have been the work of Jon Arryn." I hummed in agreement.

The camp was large and bustling, it would've been difficult to navigate if it weren't for a small road through the sea of tents that led to the middle of the encampment, where the King was. The tent which housed the King was wide and tall, painted a mix of yellow and black as well as decorated with stag embroidery.

I dismount my horse, along with the other members of my retinue, and pass the reigns over to one of the pages outside the tent. Two members of the Kingsguard outside the tent moved out of the way, allowing me to enter.

The inside of the tent was well-lit and airy, decorated by a few dressers, tables and chairs. There was another section to the tent that was covered up, must be where the King sleeps. The King was sat at a desk on the right side, flanked by two other Knights of the Kingsguard, one of them being Barristan Selmy and the other Jaime, and stuffing his face with some kind of fowl and a jug of wine.

"Your Grace." My company and I said as we kneeled down, only rising when the King gave an up sign with his greasy fingers.

"Lannister." Robert Baratheon said, before taking a gulp of wine. "Why are you here? Should you not be at Harlaw, taking it in the name of your King."

"Harlaw has already been taken, your Grace, and it has been for the last few weeks." I replied.

The King scoffs, "I don't appreciate being lied to, Lannister."

"Then you will be glad to know that I do not lie, your Grace." I could see Jaime give me a small shake of his head out of the corner of my eye.

The King squints his eyes at us, staring for a few moments before bursting out in a laughter, guffawing until his face turned red. "Good, good, you remind me of your sister."

"I would rather be compared to your fool, your Grace." That seemed to give the King another fit of laughter.

"Alright, I believe you." Robert told me, still having a few chuckles here and there, "Go and get your men settled in, I'm sure you Lannisters need to go do your hair and fanny around. Speak to Lord Buckler, he'll tell you where you can put your men."

"Your Grace." My men and I say as we turn around and leave the tent.