Chapter 100: Capturing Conspirators!

After the battle ended, Damian sent his soldiers back to the space pocket where they resided, taking Adolf with them. The bodies of the slain Ironborn were also transported there to be buried and decomposed. He did not let the captured prisoners witness this, ensuring the secrecy of his powers.

Now, the prisoners were leading him straight to the people who had orchestrated the ambush. Unsurprisingly, they took him to a village on the coast northwest of Lordsport. Ace had flown ahead to the town with a letter from Damian, calling for the town guards to provide reinforcements.

The town guards mobilized quickly, reaching the village before Damian and surrounding it to prevent anyone from escaping. Damian arrived not long after, entering the village with the prisoners in tow.

Upon reaching the village, they were greeted by its residents, some of whom looked at Damian with fear, while others glared at him with anger.

"I am Lord Damian Solstark, Lord of the Iron Islands," Damian declared, his voice carrying the weight of authority. "I was attacked on my way back to Pyke by these men. They were hired by a few priests who are now residing in this village. Hand over these conspirators, or I will order my guards to search each and every home for them."

Murmurs spread through the crowd, a mixture of confusion and apprehension. An older man, presumably the village head, stepped forward. His face was lined with age and worry, but his eyes held a steely resolve.

"My lord," he began, bowing slightly, "we are simple folk here. If what you say is true, we will cooperate. But these priests, they came to us claiming to serve the Drowned God. We did not know of their true intentions."

Damian's eyes narrowed. "Intentions or not, they are responsible for an attempt on my life. This village will not harbor enemies of Pyke. Where are they?"

The village head glanced around nervously before pointing towards a modest house near the shore. "They are in there, my lord."

Damian signaled to his guards. "Surround the house. No one leaves."

The guards moved swiftly, encircling the house. Damian advanced with measured steps, the prisoners following closely behind, their fear palpable.

As they approached the house, the door opened, and three men in robes stepped out, their faces marked with the symbols of the Drowned God. They looked defiant, but there was a flicker of fear in their eyes as they took in the sight of Damian and his armed guards.

"Who dares to accuse us?" one of the priests demanded, his voice trembling slightly.

"I dare," Damian replied, his tone icy. "You sent men to kill me. For that, you will answer."

The priests exchanged glances, their defiance wavering. The villagers watched in tense silence, waiting for what would happen next.

"You have no authority here, usurper," one of the priests spat. "The Drowned God will punish you for your insolence."

Damian stepped closer, his gaze piercing. "The Drowned God has no power here. You will face judgment for your actions. Guards, take them."

The guards moved in, seizing the priests and binding their hands. The villagers, seeing the swift justice, began to murmur amongst themselves, some expressing relief, others still fearful of the repercussions. 

Damian turned to the village head. "These men will be taken to Pyke to face trial. If any of you have aided them, now is the time to confess. Otherwise, know that harboring enemies of Pyke will not be tolerated."

The village head bowed deeply. "We understand, my lord. We will not interfere."

Satisfied, Damian nodded and signaled his men to escort the prisoners away. The village, now rid of its treacherous guests, watched as the guards led the priests toward their fate.

The priests were beaten black and blue on their way to Pyke. One of them had to die with their eyes gouged out by Ace before they started speaking on why they orchestrated the attack on Damian.

"The Drowned God does not want a man who does not follow Him to rule the Ironborn," one of the remaining priests confessed, blood dripping from his broken lips. "We convinced Captain Wittle's crew to kill you if they saw any opportunity."

"And what was your plan afterward?" Damian demanded, his voice a cold, sharp blade.

The priest coughed, spitting blood before he continued. "It was simple. We would rile the commoners into a rebellion and hoped a few ambitious lords would take this opportunity to support us. If not, we aimed to have one of us, a priest of the Drowned God, rule over the Iron Islands."

Damian's hatred for these religious zealots burned brighter. The Drowned God priests worshipped their deity and opposed his rival, the Storm God. Their followers were symbolically drowned by having salt water poured over their heads or by having their heads placed in water.

Most priests wandered the Iron Islands barefoot and poorly clad in seawater robes. Theirs was an oral tradition, so most could not read. Lords and smallfolk were obliged to give them shelter, and some priests only ate fish. Most bathed only in the sea. Priests sometimes drank a mouthful of salt water to strengthen their faith.

They performed ceremonies when a man wed a rock wife or a salt wife. Priests of old called kingsmoots and carried burning brands. They are more supportive of the Old Way and paying the iron price. They also acted as prophets.

If Damian wanted to wipe out the Drowned God religion, he would need to start with these priests. But Damian knew he could not take extreme measures so soon; it would create a spark of resistance among the commoners who believed in this religion. Of course, the ones he had captured would be killed, as attacking their lord was treason of the highest order, mandating death as punishment.

As they reached Pyke, the fortress loomed ominously against the stormy sky. Damian's guards dragged the priests to the dungeons, their cries for mercy echoing off the cold stone walls. News of the capture spread quickly throughout the castle, causing a significant uproar among its inhabitants.