Eagle's Roost was the second largest city in the North, and was closer to a large town rather than an actual city. The walls were made from wood from the Wolfwood, and there were watchtowers set at intervals along the battlements where each could support the other. The gate, which was in complete disarray, was made entirely of ironwood, strengthened by black iron.
The town was supported mainly by trade along the western coast with the cities of Lannisport and Oldtown. The Hawker's did not have a large trade fleet, preferring to build ships that sunk ironborn longships rather than be captured by them.
Jon could physically feel Roland Hawker's anger as the host of cavalry rode towards the town. Towers of smoke rose from the inside the walls, probably from the burnt remains of homes and businesses. Jon had seen a sacked castle before. It wasn't a pretty sight. A sacked town looked even worse.
"Are there any other entrances into the town?" Jon asked as he and his men came to a stop about a mile from the town. He was surrounded by Hawker, Derren, and other members of Robb's battle guard.
"There are gates heading north and south." Roland answered.
"Take two thousand men and take the southern gate. Erik, take the other two thousand and take the northern gate. Derren and his men shall stay with me and attack the main gate." Jon said, quickly giving out orders. "Three horn blasts, we attack."
"How do we know that the castle hasn't been taken?" Derren asked.
Roland pointed towards the castle, a building that towered over the rest of the town. Flying from it's tallest building was the banner of House Hawker, but it was upside down. "Ships in distress will put their flags upside down. Bowden is still holding out."
"Then we shouldn't keep him waiting." Jon said. "Lord Hawker, Erik, you have your orders. The longer we stay here, the more chance we have of being spotted and we lose the element of surprise."
The father and son both nodded and rode off. Eyan and Brandon followed their brother while Lord Hawker's captains followed him. It would take them a little time to get into position, which just left Jon and his companions alone with Derren Stark and his captains.
"You're your father's son." Derren chuckled.
Jon glanced at the man, but said nothing. Daryn had other plans, as he kept staring at the man who's shield was emblazoned with a pair of black moose antlers on a field of sand.
"So you're my cousin." Daryn said.
"Are you really doing a family reunion now?" Rodrik Forrester grunted.
Daryn shrugged. "What else are we supposed to do? They're here, might as well get it over with now."
"I'm Myka." The man answered. "You must be Daryn."
"How come you lot never came back with Robert Baratheon took the throne?" Eddard Karstark asked.
A man bearing a blue sunburst on a field of white answered. "Derren wasn't sure if it was safe for us to return. Our orders were to come back when a Stark wore the crown. Not when a Stag did."
"Robert Baratheon also held Targaryen blood," a beautiful, grey-haired woman added. Her white bear cloak, longsword, and intimidating gaze gave her away as a Mormont. "As Bryn said, we weren't sure if it was safe to return."
"Howland stayed in constant contact with you. Why didn't you ask him?" Jon asked, glancing over his shoulder at the discussion.
"Ned had just lost his father, brother and sister." Derren answered. "It wouldn't be a good look for the company if we suddenly appeared."
"The realm was at peace for twenty years. Surely there must have been some point where you thought you could return." Daryn said.
"We watched the Stag King closely as he descended into despair and depression." Derren answered with a small shrug. "The trauma from Duskendale furthered Aerys' madness. The death of the Lady Lyanna was Robert's duskendale."
Jon shifted slightly in his saddle. "When King Robert arrived in Winterfell to name my father Hand of the King, Robb and I expected the Demon of the Trident and instead we got a fat, tired, red-faced man who told war stories and whored every night. It was clear that he never moved on from the rebellion."
"You think marrying the most beautiful woman in Westeros would be enough for any man." Forrester said quietly.
"Cersei Lannister is a bitch." Jon said immediately, turning red slightly. He hated talking badly about women, but Cersei Lannister was someone he instantly disliked. She along with the Kingslayer.
Both groups of northerners laughed at Jon's comment. "Aye, she does not have a sparkling reputation." Derren confirmed. "I wonder how she'll react when she learns that Ned is alive."
Line Break
Bowden Hawker
He was down to a hundred men. Not enough to hold the walls anymore. Most were wounded, including himself, and there was really nothing Maester Malos could do besides pour boiled wine or water on the wound before wrapping it in whatever cloth he could get his hands on. The defenders were on their last reserves of strength, fighting off of rationed food of leather-like dried meet and moldy bread. But, as they have for the past few weeks, whenever the enemy came, the men of Eagle's Roost grabbed their weapons, sent a prayer to the gods, and went to meet them.
Bowden was slumped in the great hall with the rest of his men, just waiting for the enemy to send another wave. Ryswell's force had been significantly damaged during the siege of Eagle's Roost. He had started with five thousand men, the combined might of Barrowton and the Rills. Bowden doubted if he had more than seven hundred battle-ready men with him.
But that was six hundred men that Bowden didn't have.
"Captain! Captain!" A guard shouted, stumbling as he burst through the doors. "They're here?"
Bowden sighed and grabbed his weapons, his men following suit. It had been two days since Ryswell's last attack, and many believed that he meant for the next attack to be the final meeting between the two forces.
"No, captain, it's your brother, Lord Roland!" The guard cried, tears of joy cutting through the dirt, blood, and grim on the man's face. "I saw them from the Roost!"
The Roost was the tallest tower in the entire town that commanded a view of not only the town, but also the harbor and the land outside the walls. Bowden had started placing men up there day and night ever since he had gotten his brother's message.
Energy filled Bowden as the new hit him. Help was finally here, and Ryswell would get what was coming to him. The captain of the Seahawk threw himself to his feet, his weapons in his hands. He was thinner due to starvation and constant stress of an attack, but he now burned with a fiery passion.
"Hear that lads?" Bowden bellowed. "Looks like our friends outside are about to get a little surprise!"
The hundred defenders cheered. Just like the captain, they too were filled with energy. After seeing friends and family killed, their homes destroyed, their town pillaged, they wanted nothing more than to see the traitors outside town to shreds.
"How many men are with my brother?" Bowden asked as the men around him prepared for battle.
"Thousand, captain." The man answered. "They're coming through all three gates."
Bowden nodded. "Good. Get back up the tower and turn the flag the right way around."
The guard nodded and ran off. Bowden gave a little sigh of relief. Roland was here and the siege would finally be over.
And he would finally be able to plunge his sword in Rodrik Ryswell's fucking chest.
Line Break
Jon
It took an hour, but Jon's scouts had reported that both Erik and his father were in position. There had been no change in the town, so Jon could only assume that he and his men had not been discovered yet.
Jon drew Frost. "Ryswell and his sons are to be captured," he ordered. "They are traitors, but they are still highborn and must be treated as such."
The warriors behind him muttered their agreement. There was no telling what they might do in the heat of the battle, but Jon hoped that at least a few of them would be able to keep their heads.
Jon nodded to his horn-blower. "Send the signal."
The barrel-chested man nodded, wet his lips, and sounded three booming notes. After a moment, he sounded his horn again with the same three notes.
Jon raised his sword, then pointed it towards the town. The sellswords behind him cheered and urged their mounts forward, the battle madness slowly overtaking them all. Ghost bounded ahead of the charge, a white blur.
It took a few minutes for Jon and his men to cover the distance to the town, but once they were through the gates, they were like an unstoppable flood. Jon, followed by the battle guard and the sellsword captains, took the most direct route that led towards the castle. They encountered very few defenders, most of whom were already mauled by Ghost, but it was only until they were around the castle did they Ryswell and his men.
"For Winterfell!" Jon bellowed, cutting down the first man he came across.
Jon and his men slammed into the traitorous northerners, with Hawker and his son soon joining them as their cavalry emerged from other streets. It was a bloodbath. The men of the Rills and Barrowton were unprepared and tired after weeks of sieging. Against battle-hardened sellswords and men who had fought with Robb in the south, they were sitting ducks.
Jon and his companions fought their way towards the castle, where they met Lord Roland and his sons. Without speaking, they all dismounted and ran into the castle, where the Ryswell, his sons, and the last of his men were surrounded by the castle defenders.
"Bowden!" Lord Roland shouted, striding across the courtyard.
A man who looked like a more wild version of the lord of Eagle's Roost strode forward as well, the two men meeting with a bear hug. Erik, Brandon, and Eyan all embraced their uncle as well before all four turned back to the enemy.
"Rodrik." Lord Roland growled. "Surrender and you'll be tried fairly."
The man whom Jon assumed was Rodrik Ryswell, given his tabard and armor, snarled. "I'd rather die with a weapon in my hand then my neck on a block!"
Roland hefted his greatsword. "So be it," he said, moving forward, but his brother stopped him.
"He's mine." Bowden said firmly.
The two brothers shared a look before Roland nodded and stepped back. Bowden moved forward, stepping in front of the ring of defenders to where he and Ryswell were face to face.
"I told you I would be the one to kill you." Bowden said calmly.
Ryswell snarled and launched himself at the man, starting the fight.
Jon watched the fight with narrowed eyes, making sure that none of Ryswell's men interfered. But it looked like they intended to honor their lord's request of single combat that would lead to a semi-honorable death. Even the man's sons stayed back, allowing their father to fight.
Bowden and Ryswell fought with differing fighting styles. Ryswell fought like a man with nothing to lose. His attacks bordered on wild, but there was still technique and experience in the way he fought. He was older than Bowden, but he was still in decent enough shape to give his opponent trouble.
Bowden Hawker, on the other hand, looked just as deadly as his brother. Wielding a cutlass and a small axe, he moved effortlessly around Ryswell, able to parry and deflect his opponent's blade with his cutlass while his axe stayed ready to take advantage of any opening.
Both fighters managed to hit each other a few times, but there had not yet been a telling blow. Rodrik was older, but he hadn't been starved or constantly attacked like Bowden had. Lord Hawker's brother was just as tall and muscular, but weeks of malnourishment had taken their toll on the man. He was beginning to slow, now noticeably so. He blocked Ryswell's strikes instead of parrying them. Whenever he moved, it looked sluggish.
Ryswell roared and slammed his shield into his opponent, knocking him to the ground. The defenders, men who had fought beside Bowden, moaned with despair. It was not the way they wanted to see their captain go out.
"I'm gonna die." Ryswell growled, preparing for what he thought would be the final blow. "But you're gonna go with me!"
Bowden gritted his teeth, not responding. Ryswell's sword flashed towards Bowden's neck, but the captain of the Seahawk was even faster. His axe flew up and intercepted the sword, the haft of the axe holding the blade fast. Ryswell's face was a mask of confusion before turning to pain.
Plunged into the middle of his chest was Bowden's sword, shoved there with the last of his strength.
"I did tell you I would kill you." Bowden growled, kicking Ryswell away from him.
The Lord of the Rills stumbled away before finally sinking to his knees, his shield falling to his side. His sword was still stuck in the axe. He did not attempt to take the sword out of his chest, Jon doubted he had the strength to do so. All he did was look at it, just barely breathing.
"End it Bowden." Lord Hawker grunted now that his brother was back on his feet.
Bowden nodded and ripped the sword from Ryswell's chest, nodding once to him before decapitating the man with one swing.
Line Break
The survivors of Eagle's Roost celebrated like never before. The food of the besiegers were torn into and distributed as Roland and Bowden celebrated the victory with their people. It was a joyful sight to behold, yet mournful at the same time as many rose to toast to the dead, the honorable and courageous defenders who had given their life to hold out against Ryswell and his men.
The captains of the sellsword company sat with the Hawker brothers, swapping war stories from their time in Essos. Jorah Fisher, from the extinct northern house, was comparing fleets with Bowden Hawker and the best way to board and take a ship while Roland Hawker was deep in discussion with Dwan Umber and Alora Mormont about battle strategy and the tactics used in Essos.
Jon hid in a balcony above the great hall, having found it when he was finding his room earlier that day. He did not have much time to be alone anymore now that he was the commander of the northern army. It was tough sometimes, to have men and women older than him look to him to make the hard decisions, but it must be hell for Robb since he wore the crown.
"I thought you had gone to bed." Derren Stark said quietly, leaning on the railing beside Jon.
"I was," Jon admitted. "But I remember finding this room earlier and once I was in, I didn't feel like leaving."
Derren nodded, the two Starks looking out over the feast. "So, have you decided yet if my men and I can be trusted?"
Jon smiled slightly. "Considering I don't have a knife in my back yet, I believe you can be trusted."
Derren chuckled. "You fought well, but Starks have always been natural fighters."
"The same for your men." Jon replied.
"They're happy to be home." Derren said quietly. "It's been a long time since any of our bloodlines have been here."
"None of them traveled back?" Jon asked curiously.
Derren shook his head. "My father, and his father before him, preached that the company was the safest place for us. As much as I hate to admit it, our mission given to us by Torrhen Stark was only half the reason the company stayed together as long as it did. The other half is fear. If one member decided to go home, then what would stop the others?"
Jon nodded. "You wanted to keep the pack together."
Derren nodded. "For three hundred years, we wandered around Essos. Fighting in other people's wars and waiting for the day that we got the message to come home. There were times when it was especially tough. The company got hit hard once or twice, but Robert's Rebellion was nearly the breaking point of the company. So many wanted to go home, and it took my father everything he had to keep them all together."
"What do they plan to do once the war is over?" Jon asked.
Derren shrugged. "That is for Ned to decide."
Jon hesitated. "How is my father?"
Derren glanced at Jon. "He's well. Got a nasty wound to his knee during his time in King's Landing and when my healer got to him, he was afraid he was going to have to take the leg. Thankfully, Tomas was able to root out the infection and save the leg. Before your father and I parted, he was training daily with Ice. probably in preparation for when he got his hands on Roose."
Jon smiled slightly. He had rarely seen his father spar, but when he had, he was impressed. He was fast and agile, with a keen sense of where his opponents weakness was and when to exploit it.
"There's so much we have to talk about." Jon said quietly.
Derren laid a gentle hand on Jon's shoulder. "It's been a long time since you've seen each other. I'm sure you both have things you want to say," he said kindly. "Good night Jon."