"Greyjoy!" a shout came from beyond the main gate. Asha nodded to her men as she made her way to the top of the battlements, looking completely at ease even though she was the furthest thing from it.
The man was burly and stout, with fiery red hair and a bushy beard. He wore leather and steel-plate armor, his tabard bearing the iron fist of House Glover. Asha knew in an instant that she was looking at Galbart Glover, the Master of Deepwood Mott. he was surrounded by what looked like a group of sellswords, though they held themselves better than such. Many of them, in fact, wore tabards bearing the sigils of other northern houses. Asha recognized Umbers, Manderlys, and Hawkers. One man even wore the sigil of House Stark!
"What do you want?" Asha asked.
"Lay down your arms and come out." Glover shouted. "Surrender and I'll let you live."
"And if we don't!" one of Asha's men called fiercely.
"Then I'll make sure each and every one of you is dead." Galbart answered. "Make no mistake, the only good ironborn is a dead one."
Asha crossed her arms, glaring at the master of Deepwood Mott. The offer wasn't bad, but she would be damned if both of her father's children disgraced themselves in the North. She made up her mind then and there that she would fight. She and her men had paid the iron price for the castle, and they would defend it with that same iron.
"Come and take it then!" Asha shouted. "We'll stay right here!"
The men around her cheered and banged their weapons against their shields. Like her, none of them wanted to disgrace themselves by surrendering to the enemy. The ironborn were raiders. They took what they wanted and they fought like hell if anyone tried to take it back.
Glover shrugged and turned back, he and his companions riding away. Asha came down from the battlements, coming face to face with her uncle. "It seems we have a fight coming."
Her uncle frowned, but nodded. She didn't need to read his mind to know his thoughts. He had always been a cautious man, but he also knew who his niece was and was going to follow her regardless of his own opinions.
"So it seems." Rodrik grunted.
"Qarl." Asha barked. "Follow me."
Qarl, or Qarl the Maid as many ironborn knew him on account of his beardless face and slightly feminine features, was one of Asha's best warriors. He, like all of Asha's crew, was completely devoted to her.
"Capt'n." Qarl said, falling in behin Asha and her uncle.
The three warriors made their way into the keep and soon found themselves outside the lord's chamber, where Asha has been keeping Lady Sybelle Glover, wife of Robett Glover, Lord Glover's brother, and her children along with Lawrence Snow, the bastard of Hornwood. When they had taken the castle, Asha had found one of her men attempting to rape the noblewoman. In response, Asha had castrated the man in front of all her warriors before casting him off.
It was a message that had only needed to be sent once. Nobody would touch Sybelle Glover.
"Capt'n?" Qarl asked.
"You're to stand guard over Lady Sybelle and her men." Asha ordered.
"No disrespect, but I'm your best sword." Qarl argued. "You need me out there."
"I need you here in case anyone tries to buy their freedom with the woman." Asha explained. "If I'm going to give my life fighting the northerners, I want my men going down with me. We're a crew. We sail together. We fight together. I'll make damn sure we die together."
Qarl nodded slowly. "Fine. I'll guard the damn woman."
Asha patted his face. "I always knew you were more than just a pretty face."
Qarl smiled slightly, unable to stay mad at his captain for long. "I think you've known for a while, capt'n."
Asha smacked the young man in the back of the head before walking off, her uncle her silent shadow. When they reached the solar, her uncle finally broke his silence.
"You know this is a horrible idea." he said. "You should have surrendered."
"And what message would that have sent to my men?" Asha countered, pouring herself a cup of wine in preparation for the argument that was about to take place.
"That you care more about their lives then your foolish pride." Rodrik answered. "I told you back before you left for the Dreadfort. The Iron Islands need you alive!"
"The Iron Islands aren't mine." Asha scoffed. "My father is still alive."
Her Uncle shook her head. "You know we can't win this war, Asha. Robb Stark has too many bloody men and once he's done with the Lannisters, he's going to turn on us." Rodrik hissed. "What do you think he's going to do to Balon when he gets his hands on him? Northerners are very fucking fond of executions! Who will the Iron Islands fall to? Victarion Greyjoy, that bull who has seaweed for brains or that damn fanatic Damphair! You are who the Iron Islands need to lead them and you can't do that if your head is on a pike outside a castle!"
"So you've already given up, have you?" Asha snarled, slamming her cup back down on the table and splashing wine.
"Do you know who we're fighting?" Rodrik growled. "Those aren't some frozen northerners. That's the Company of the Rose, one of strongest sellsword companies in Essos. Do you know how many men they have? Fout fucking thousand!"
Asha felt the blood drain from her face. She had thought that she was facing a few hundred northerners. She knew that the northern army coming north couldn't afford to send thousands of men after her, not with the boltons in the east. Now her uncle was pointing out just how stupid it had been for her to give up the chance to surrender peacefully.
"We have no choice now." Asha said quietly. "You know as well as I that they would have executed both of us if we had surrendered. I'd much rather go out with a weapon in my hand."
Rodrik sighed and crossed his arms. "Very well, Asha, we'll do this your way."
Line Break
They came at dusk, just as the sun was setting. Coming up the main path that led to the castle was a ram, which looked to be hastily constructed. Spreading out to the east and west of the castle were groups of men jogging with ladders. Asha was able to see eight ladders in total, with a large column of men following each.
All around her, archers and raiders ran to their positions. In the two towers that protected the main gate, archers rained arrows down on the attackers. Unfortunately, Asha's archers were spread thin along the wall. She had given command of the first wall to her Uncle, the only man she trusted to pull her forces back to the second line of defense, where she was.
Earl Harlaw, one of her most experienced raiders, was in command at the last line of defense, which was the short palisade that protected the castle. He had roughly fifty men with him.
Asha watched grimly as the ram reached the first gate and began battering it down. Her uncle, armored in a combination of leather, chainmail, and steel-plate, could be clearly seen above the gatehouse. He was surrounded by his captains, many of whom were running off. Asha continued to watch as archers left the walls and took up positions higher on the hill, their spots filled with small pockets of ironborn warriors. In front of the gate, Asha recognized Rolfe the Dwarf, an ironic name given his tremendous height, rallying his fellow raiders.
With the light fading away, the enemy showed their positions with torches. For the first time, Asha saw just how diminutive her force was compared to the attacking army. There were indeed thousands of them, and they were using their numbers to the fullest advantage. Her uncle's men, three hundred ironborn raiders, which included every archer Asha had, were spread out across the wall and for every warrior she had down there, the enemy had a dozen more.
"It's a fine night to die." Roggon Rustbeard grunted, Asha's second. The red-bearded raider leaned on the wall next to his captain.
Asha glanced up at the sky, and couldn't help but agree. There had been a light dusting of snow during the day, but the night was cloudless with a full moon and stars shining in the heavens. It was still cold, obviously, but it was a beautiful night nonetheless.
"Giving up already?" Asha asked quietly.
Raggon allowed a slight smile to touch his craggy features. "Not at all, capt'n. Just admiring the view."
Asha chuckled and turned her attention back to the fight. The main gate was nearly broken through. Rolfe and others had formed a shield wall, supported by a dozen archers. Still, they looked pitifully small to provide any sort of defense.
For how well she and her uncle had prepared the defenses, the enemy were just as cunning. The moment the ram broke through the gate, the enemy swarmed up the walls, timing their attack all at the same moment. Asha had just a second to admire the sellswords discipline before she saw her men be mobbed by what seemed like hundreds of warriors.
Uncle Rodrik's defenses lasted a few minutes before horns were blown and the raiders began to retreat. Surprisingly, the enemy didn't give chase. Instead, their archers took command of the palisade as the infantry formed up below it.
"Asha." Rodrik grunted, walking up to his niece. His armor was splattered with blood and his blade was colored red, but for the most part, her uncle looked unharmed. "We have to retreat."
"What do you mean?" Asha asked.
"We don't have the men to hold them." Rodrik said, taking off his helm and wiping the sweat from his brow. "If we hold the wall outside the castle, we can suppress their numbers for a little longer, but this is not a battle we can win. We held for barely a minute before we had to retreat."
Asha cursed quietly, looking out at the enemy. It dawned on her what they were doing. The ram was being brought through the wreckage of the main gate and ladders were being hauled over the ramparts. They were going to use the same assault tactic on the second gate that they had just used on the first.
"Fine." Asha said. "Roggon! Board up the second gate then get everyone back to the main keep. We're going to fall back to the third wall."
The raider nodded and began to bellow orders. Soon, those who weren't staying to fortify the gate were grabbing anything that would be useful to repel the enemy and began to climb up towards the final defense.
"Asha, we can end this fight right now." Rodrik urged quietly. "Bring Sybelle and her children out. We can hand them over and surrender."
Asha glanced at her uncle before following her men up the hill. She knew her uncle was right, but she didn't want to give up till her back was well and truly to the wall. When she reached Harlaw's position, her remaining archers were already on the walls, surrounded by men wielding spears and harpoons. Around the wall were piles of rocks and others projectiles that could be hurled at the enemy.
Asha and her uncle walked past them all and made their way into the castle. There was a commotion happening down the hall where the lord's chambers were and Asha first thoughts went to Sybelle Glover.
"Uncle!" Asha growled, grabbing her throwing axes and rushing towards the room.
Qarl had his longsword drawn, surrounded by no less than seven men. The eighth man was on the floor, his neck ripped open and spilling blood.
"Let us through." one raider growled. "We're going to die. Might as well have some fun while we can."
"You'll do no such thing." Asha barked, striding up to the group. "Lady Sybelle will not be touched."
The raider hesitated for a second before spitting at Asha's boots. "Screw you bitch. When we're done with the cunt inside, we'll have yours as well."
Her uncle drew his sword. "Try it, Lars, and you'll be the first to die."
Everything happened in a matter of moments. Lars charged her uncle, followed by one of his friends, while two rushed Asha. It had been three, but Qarl had put his sword through the back of one before being attacked by the final two raiders.
The fight had been short and bloody, ending when Uncle Rodrik had cut off one of Lar's hands before shoving his blade through the man's throat.
It was then that Asha noticed that they were no longer alone. Standing at one end of the hall was Lord Glover, surrounded by dozens of fighters. Asha didn't know how they had gotten into the castle, but it didn't matter now. She threw down her axes, surprising both her uncle and Qarl. Both men soon followed her example.
"Lord Glover, we surrender." she said bitterly. She opened the door, catching sight of the terrified woman who was clutching three children close to her. "Lady Sybelle and her children are unharmed."
The lord of Deepwood Motte marched up to her, flanked by the man wearing the Stark tabard. The men behind him rushed off, presumably to finish the fight.
Glover glanced inside the room before looking at Asha. "I'll let you live because you protected my family." he rumbled. "You and the two men with you. The others will be put to the sword."
Asha could only nod, feeling the full weight of their deaths on her shoulders.
Glover pushed past her and entered the room, leaving the other man behind, who was gazing at Asha was a small amount of curiosity. Asha glared back at him.
"What?" she snapped.
"At the gate, I knew we were facing the daughter of Balon Greyjoy." he mused. "Maybe you're smarter than I thought."
"Fuck you!" Asha responded.
The man simply shrugged and leaned against the wall, a hand resting easily on the hilt of his sword. "You may be smarter than your father, girl, but you're still ironborn, and that'll get you killed if you're not careful."
"Fuck you." Asha said again, though still able to hear the soft grunt of agreement from her uncle.