Version 2.0
As time passed, the northern kingdoms adapted to the challenges of winter, and the plans set in motion by their rulers began to bear fruit.
The Ryder King's strategy to expand his influence through overseas trade had proven to be a gamble worth taking. His ships had ventured south, establishing trade routes with the Trident King's lands. The Ryder King's markets began to flourish with new goods, brought by foreign traders eager to exchange their wares for tough timber, good for buildings, furs for the cold and comfort, and skins and ivories of odd creatures they called Werewolves, Ghouls, and more.
The impact on the Ryder King's markets was immediate. Foods from the southern lands began to fill the stalls—fruits, grains, roots, and more were back in some abundance. These new provisions were particularly welcomed in the harsh winter months, offering a much-needed supplement to the dwindling supplies in the North. The markets in the Ryder King's lands became a bustling hub of activity, attracting traders and travellers from across the North, eager to trade and goods.
The Red King, weakened by his recent defeat and ceded valuable lands to the eastern coalition, could do nothing. His markets, still traded what they could but it was not as full as when it had control of three markets. The Red King made no move, he said and did nothing.
Meanwhile, in Brandon's lands, a different kind of success was unfolding. Long sceptical of Brandon's attempts to cultivate winter-resistant crops, many of his farmers had doubted the possibility of growing anything substantial in the freezing northern soil. But Brandon and trusting farmers had persisted, working with the seeds brought by Benjen. As the winter deepened, and other kingdoms struggled with failing harvests and dwindling food stores, Brandon's efforts showed their promise.
The first successful crops were a marvel, grains still struggled but where there, root vegetables grew well and large for a winter, and vegetables grew green and large. The success of these winter-resistant crops came as a shock to many who had dismissed Benjen's efforts as a fool's errand. When the first reasonably good harvest was brought in, there was a celebration of disbelief.
Once the farmers heard they could grow good crops even during winter they flocked to the Stark farmlands either begging for the seeds and how it was done, which Brandon and Benjen were quick to give out. Seeds and techniques were shared, and what began as a small experiment quickly turned into a larger agricultural movement. Fields that had been barren and covered in frost were soon plowed and sown, and while the crops were not enough to fully sustain Brandon's entire kingdom, it was a start.
Whilst the three powerhouse kingdoms did their own thing the rest of the Kingdoms kept with what they could, and hunting of the monster of the North for meat became more common despite the risks. Animals became more prevalent living off the grass and what they could, whilst desperate people killed others for what little food they had.
/
The day broke with a cold, steel-grey sky, as Brandon Stark led his men southward, toward the southern holdfast. News of renewed raiding from the Marsh King had reached him, and he intended to inspect the fortifications and reinforce the garrison. His companions marched alongside him as they huffed the cold air.
As they topped a hill that was not far from the holdfast and then the beginning of the swamp, Brandon's sharp eyes caught something on the river not far from them. He signalled his party to halt, squinting toward the distant vessel. It was larger than the fishing boats his people used, with a high prow carved into the shape of a snarling beast. The boat's oars cut silently through the water, and an unfamiliar banner fluttered from its mast.
"That looks sick," Jon muttered, whilst pointing.
Brandon shrugged his shoulders. "I don't recognize the flag. They're not the Marsh King and I don't see why traders would be this way."
The boat continued to move upriver, its course set toward a small clearing on the shore near the holdfast and not far from a village close by that liked the protection of it. As it drew nearer, Brandon could make out the figures aboard—rough, broad-shouldered men with long hair and unkempt beards. Their clothing was a mix of rough furs and worn sea leathers, but what caught Brandon's attention was the gleam of bronze from shields to swords and axes.
"Sure look inviting," Edric said.
As the boat reached the shore, and easily beached onto it. They quickly disembarked, their boots sinking into the wet earth as they formed a loose line along the riverbank. The bronze of their weapons caught the dim sunlight, and Brandon could see axes, short swords, and round shields with designs etched into the metal. The shields were painted with symbols—some resembling a Kraken, others unfamiliar to him. A few of the warriors wore helmets made from beaten bronze, shaped to resemble snarling beasts, while others wore none at all, their hair flowing wild and free in the wind.
Brandon's pulse quickened as the men started to leave their boat and head in the direction of the holdfast and village.
"I don't know who they are, but they aren't here for pleasantries," Theon said grimly.
One of the Ironborn, a tall man with a bushy beard and a bronze axe strapped to his back, led his men of around fourth forward. His dark eyes scanned around the area as he drew in closer to his target.
"We can't let them reach the holdfast and village," Brandon said, drawing his sword. "We strike now, while they don't see us."
Without further hesitation, Brandon and the party of Stark men burst from the hill, charging toward the intruders. The northern warriors had numbers and seemingly better amour. The slamming of feet on cold hard ground and the war cries of Brandon's men echoed through the cold air as they descended.
The raiders reacted trying to form up, but the clash was immediate and brutal. Bronze met bronze with a resounding clang as the two sides collided. Brandon's sword cut through the air, clashing with the axe of a raider. The man was strong, his face twisted in a snarl as he pushed back against Brandon's strike. But with a powerful blow, he knocked the axe aside and drove his sword into the raider's chest.
All around him, the raiders gave up on formation and just fought with savage ferocity, their axes swinging wildly as they pushed back the northern warriors. Despite their numbers, the raiders did not care in the slightest and seemed to have no intention of surrendering. Every blow was met with a counterstrike, every fallen raider replaced by another who just wanted to battle. Their faces were set, their eyes cold and unforgiving. Even as the northern men gained the upper hand, cutting down raider after raider, not a single Ironborn broke rank or fled. They fought to the last man, refusing to yield an inch of ground.
Brandon felled another raider, his sword cutting through the man's shoulder, and took a moment to assess the battlefield. The Ironborn were dwindling in number, but still, none surrendered. They were being pushed back toward their boat, but even as the last few stood surrounded, they fought on, spitting curses and swinging their weapons.
The final Ironborn raider, a hulking man with a bronze axe and a wild mane of hair, stood alone, bloodied but unbowed. He raised his axe, a mad gleam in his eyes, and charged straight into the largest group of men. He was surrounded and quickly the raider fell to the ground, his blood staining the earth.
The battlefield fell silent, save for the heavy breathing of the northern warriors and the distant murmur of the river. Brandon wiped the blood from his sword and looked around. The Ironborn were dead, every last one of them. Not a single man had surrendered or even spoken a word of mercy.
"Stubborn bastards," Edric muttered, shaking his head as he kicked over the body of a raider. "They didn't say a word, no surrender, no plea."
Brandon frowned, stepping over the bodies. The dead men on the ground told him nothing. They had refused to talk, to give even a hint of who, what, where, why, and more. They had fought the silent conviction of men.
"Search the boat," Brandon ordered. "Maybe we'll find something there."
The men moved quickly, but even as they searched the boat and the bodies of the dead raiders, there was nothing to explain their presence. Only some foods and provisions but that was all.