"Is it time?"
The gruff voice shook Gared out of his concentration, so he lowered the far-eye from his face and turned towards the Tattered Prince, before replying, "No, but it will be soon..."
The Tattered Prince was the first and only commander of the sellswords company, Windblown. He was a fifty-something-year-old man, with silver grey hair and an appearance so ordinary that he could easily disappear in a crowd the moment he took off his silver mail and his colourful tattered cloak.
They were both standing on a steep mountain a few leagues away from the Camp of Company of the Cats and from their location, Gared was able to get a clear view of the camp and what was happening in there using the Far-eye Jon had given him.
"The sun is going to set in about an hour," murmured the old commander while looking at the horizon, "So I hope that whatever plan you've cooked up occurs soon because I don't fancy having a night battle."
"Oh! Don't worry too much, Old Man," Gared said with a mysterious gleam in his eyes, "This battle is going to be the easiest and most fortuitous one of your life. You can trust me on that."
"Don't call me an Old Man, I'm only twenty years older than you, boy," snapped the white-haired old man, "And besides I wouldn't have brought all my warriors here if I didn't trust you," he said waving his hand behind him, where stood lines and lines of warrior readying their weapons and waiting for the order from their commander to set off towards their target.
Almost two thousand of these fighters belonged to the Windblown, while the other five hundred belonged to the Company of Roses. And even though they hadn't been allowed to set up camp so there were no tents signifying their different allegiance, anyone would have been able to pick the sellswords from the two companies apart.
The sellswords from one company had good quality weapons and armour while the other had shabby equipment, they were well-maintained but they were old. While one company boasted over two hundred horses ready to charge into battle, the other only had foot soldiers.
"Really? Because I thought that you only came because the ones we're about to attack are the Cats..." Gared chuckled with a sly smile on his face. It was an open secret that the Company of Cats and the Windblown had bad blood between them, both companies had fought in battle with each other on more than a few occasions, and both wanted nothing more than to tear the other to pieces.
"Even if I wanted to wipe these currs from the face of Essos," he said while looking at the far-away camp with distaste before shaking his head, "I would not be so stupid as to attack them in their well-fortified camp when they are ready... So I hope that what you had promised me comes true... for your own sake..."
It hadn't been too hard for Gared to persuade the old sellsword to join him in his crusade. Of course, he had to give away a few concessions including, leaving most of the loot they would get if they managed to defeat the Cats. But Jon had repeated many times that as long as the company came under him, they would never have any problem with money or weapons so Gared didn't feel that it was too much of a loss.
"What have you got to worry about?" Gared snorted at the not-so-hidden threat, "After all, I already said that we would be in the vanguard."
"Well, then I hope you live up to your honourable reputation and keep your promise, because—" halfway through his words, the Tattered Prince stopped and looked towards the enemy camp with narrowed eyes, "Is that the signal we are waiting for?"
"Wha—Oh!" Gared exclaimed as he followed the old man's finger and caught sight of a sky-reaching fire that was burning the biggest tent in the camp.
"I'll sound the horn," the commander of Windblown said resolutely while turning away.
"No, wait!" Gared had the far-eye back on his eye and was moving it left and right along the camp as if searching for something, "Not yet!"
"What?! What are you talking about?" the Tattered prince asked in a bewildered tone, "If I am not wrong then that is the food storage burning out there. What else could you be waiting for?"
Gared didn't answer his fellow commander instead he just focused more closely on the camp.
He saw the mayhem and panic that the sudden fire had caused as the sellswords ran hither tither frantically trying to douse the fire using pails of water and the nearby sand but it wasn't helping too much.
It was as he was focusing on the fire that Gared abruptly caught sight of the first victim of their scheme.
A man in the midst of carrying a pail of water towards the raging fire suddenly sported an uncomfortable look on his face before he suddenly fell down to his knees while holding onto his stomach.
Not many paid him any attention at first as they were too busy with the fire but when the second one and then the third one followed soon after, people began noticing that something worse than fire was happening to them. But it was too late by then as people began falling left and right complaining of weakness, nausea and the unbearable urge to... shit.
"Your plan really worked!" the old sellsword exclaimed in a surprised but delighted tone, "We need to go, now. It's the perfect time to strike. We should hit them before they get a chance to regather."
"No! Just wait a few more—Ah! There it is!" Gared said in an excited tone as he finally caught sight of the scene he was searching for.
While most of the company was focused on controlling the fire and helping their poisoned comrades, a third problem suddenly presented itself as the horses abruptly broke free from their stables and ran out towards the exit all on their own.
If there were just a few of them coming towards them, then the guards at the exit might have even put up a modicum of effort to try and stop them from leaving, but the herd of horses galloping furiously towards them was so scary that they all willingly jumped out their path and let them run away scott-free.
"How did you get the horses—"
"It's time!" Gared said as he cut off his fellow commander's curious question while placing the far-eye back in his pocket, "Let's go," and then without wasting any more time he picked up the horn by his side and turned towards the waiting warrior before breathing into it with all his might.
POOOOO
"MEN!! LET'S GO KILL SOME CATS!!"
"YYYEESSSS!!!!"
...
The moment the herd cleared enough distance from the camp, Jon pulled the reins and raised himself to be in an upright position once again.
To not raise any suspicion or attract the attention of any archer Jon had been riding the horse sideways while escaping. A difficult task even for the most trained knight but Jon had been riding on horses since he could walk and talk so it wasn't that hard for him, in addition being a warg helped a lot.
"Ha!" he shouted as he urged his horse to run faster while escaping from his position in the middle of the herd to the front.
He slowly began steering the horses away from the camp while changing the direction so that they began heading straight for the rendezvous point he had agreed upon with Sam.
The thunderous sound of a war horn made him perk his head up towards the distant mountain and not even a minute later he was greeted by the sight of his allied sellswords charging down at their maximum speed towards the Camp of the Cats.
From their speed, it shouldn't take them more than a few minutes to reach the camp which would usually be enough time for a well-prepared company to prepare their defences but today... that was just a pipe dream for the Cats.
Other than a few looks to make sure that nothing outwardly was happening, Jon didn't bother with the attacking force too much, as he had already done all he could to help in the battle and now it was the turn for Gared, his company and his allies to make contributions and deal with the rest, so Jon focused on leading the prized horses.
He reached close to his destination about ten minutes later, by which the battle was raging ferociously all over at the camp behind him.
"Jon!" Sam exclaimed as he finally caught sight of him, and eagerly began pushing his horse as he and his three companions began riding along sideways with the herd. Along with Sam came his own horse, Peggy and Jon didn't waste a single moment jumping and changing from one horse to another without breaking their stride.
"Are we going back to the base, Jon?" Sam asked ignoring the superhuman feat Jon had performed as if it was mundane.
"No, we need to do something first," Jon said before he turned towards the commander's son and shouted, "Bran! You and the young lad will lead the horses from here on out," he said while nodding towards the young stable hand beside him, "Don't worry too much, these horses are quite tame and shouldn't give you too much trouble. You just need to ride in front of them and they will follow you all the way towards the camp."
...
A few minutes later Jon and Sam broke off from the group and set off in a completely different direction.
"Where are we going, Jon?"
"To meet with a dear acquaintance of ours..." Jon said with a wolfish smile on his face.
///
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