RM Chapter 107

As the lines clashed a loud crunch came over the battlefield as pikemen and heavy infantry attacked one another. To my right, I watched as an Ibbenese Sellsword hacked into a Pikeman's weapon with his axe, opening up a gap in the wall of spears for him to move through. To my right, a Pikeman speared a Westerosi Sellsword through the neck, the arsenal steel head of his pike punching through the gorget of the Sellsword. In front of me, however, I faced off against a Tyroshi, his beard dyed a fiery orange and his weapon a bastard sword.

He lashed out at me, intending to cleave me in twain from cheek to hip, but I leaned out of the way of the strike, riposting with a horizontal tondo cut at his throat that he barely managed to parry, my Valyrian Steel blade damaging his bastard sword as he did so. From here, he wound and bound my blade, intending to use the weight of his bastard sword and his slightly larger size to force my blade out of position and open me up to a strike, but I pulled my dagger and rammed it through his eye with my off-hand, killing him.

He was replaced by a Westerosi in Leather and Chain Armor with a hooked nose and shaggy brown hair wielding an axe. The Man chopped out at me, forcing me to duck aside from the powerful blow, before bringing his axe around in a circle and keeping me from riposting. To my right, A Halberdier moved up to attack him from the side, thrusting the spike of his Halberd at the Man, only to have it be parried aside by the circling motion of the man's axe. That Halberdier was then slain as a Red-Faced Westerosi Sellsword with black hair and a Bastard Sword managed to cut him down. However, the moment of engagement the Halberdier and the Axe-Wielding Westerosi Sellsword had was enough for me to ram an overhand, imbrocatta thrust through the Axeman's mail and leather-clad chest, puncturing his heart and killing him.

As I withdrew my blade from the Axeman's corpse, the Red-Faced Wsterosi turned to me and took up a stance that was familiar to me. It was one I'd seen Brienne use before. That acknowledgment made me feel a twinge in my chest at the thought of my wife, but I pushed it aside to focus on the task at hand, taking up a stance of my own. The Red-Faced Westerosi nodded at me.

"I am Ser Orson Stone, known as the Bastard Knight of the Windblown. I would have your name before I kill you." Intoned the Red-Faced Westerosi.

"I am Lord Ricasso Seawynd, and if you can kill me, you've earned yourself a higher pay grade." I responded.

And with that, the duel in the midst of the battlefield began. Orson Stone took the initiative, attacking me with a circling cut that was aimed at my elbow, trying to literally disarm me. This I avoided by backpedaling, though I couldn't go far without fouling up the line. I was able to backpedal just enough to avoid the cut before riposting with a balestra, hopping forward into an immediate lunge that forced Ser Orson Stone to parry. I pressed my attack, disengaging from his blade to avoid winding and binding with the larger man and cutting out with a molinetto, my swift, circling, cut aimed at his eyes. Ser Orson leaned away from the blade, though the tip of my sword drew a line of blood across his cheek. In retaliation, he slammed his crossguard into the side of my head, my helm ringing from the force of the blow, staggering me.

I parried wildly, expecting him to take advantage to try and cut me down, and he didn't disappoint, trying to cleave me in twain from cheek to hip. My wild parry, however, allowed me to stay alive, bringing his Bastard sword wide and off-line. He engaged me in winding and binding for a brief moment, trying to bear me to the ground with his size and strength, before I slammed my helmeted head into his face. He was wearing plate armor, but no helmet, allowing his black hair to fly free in the wind. That was a mistake I capitalized on as my Headbutt smashed his nose flat, breaking it as well as bruising his orbital bone and busting open his forehead above his right eye.

As he staggered back, his face a bloody mess, I advanced forward, cutting out in a horizontal tondo cut for his throat. This time, he couldn't bring his sword into position to parry fast enough, as he was busy wiping the blood out of his rapidly swelling right eye. My Valyrian Steel blade parted the skin of his throat, slicing through his jugular vein in a giant spray of crimson arterial blood, killing him. Ser Orson Stone was dead, but that did not mean the battle was over. Looking around me, I saw that many men on both sides had died, while many others were still engaged in deadly combat. This was definitely a meat grinder, one that I couldn't afford to partake in much longer.

I spotted Ser Bryen Farring engaged in deadly combat with a pair of swordsmen, a Pentoshi with a forked beard that was decorated with gold rings, and an Ibbenese Axeman with a jeweled golden arm ring. The Ibbenese Axeman cut down a Pikeman that Ser Bryen had been fighting alongside, only for Ser Bryen to ram his Arming Sword through the Ibbenese Axeman's Armpit, killing the Hairy Sellsword. That opened him up to the Pentoshi Swordsman, however, who was ready to cut Ser Bryen down. Instead, I hefted my dagger and tossed it at the Pentoshi. The thrown dagger sank into the Pentoshi's Elbow between the sleeve of his mail hauberk and the metal of his vambrace, spoiling his strike and allowing Ser Bryen to finish him off with a cut that hacked the man's face in two.

"Ser Bryen! This cannot continue, signal Ser Raymun to advance the cavalry!" I shouted.

"Aye, Milord!" Nodded Ser Bryen.

He reached down at his waist, where a small, brass, bugle-like, horn lay and put it to his lips. Three, short, staccato blasts from the bugle sounded out, the signal for Ser Raymun Darry to lead the Cavalry Reserves into battle. The main Cavalry Force under Ser Roger Groves was still engaged on the extreme right flank against the Long Lances and Cavalry of the Free Company, of course, but Ser Raymun Darry had a portion of the Cavalry kept back as a reserve, in case we needed to play a trump card to avoid utter disaster.

This turned out to be a wise decision, as Ser Raymun attacked the enemy left flank, which was protected by the Lost Legion. The force of the charge on their flank forced the Windblown to pull back their advance against us in the center, lessening pressure here and forcing the Tattered Prince to commit the Company of the Rose to try and shore up his left flank. That gave us some breathing room in the center, which was sorely needed, as the Tattered Prince had pushed us hard.

"Sound the call to rotate the lines. You and I are headed for the rear, Ser Bryen." I ordered.

Ser Bryen blasted out two short notes and one long note, as we rotated out of the front line for fresh troops in a practiced maneuver I had copied from the Ancient Romans back on Earth. As the fighting renewed, the Tattered Prince's Men would find themselves facing fresh troops instead of the battered and bloody forces that had previously been caught in his meatgrinder. The battle would continue on for another hour, but by that point, both we and the Tattered Prince were largely spent, the only difference was that our Artillery had finally managed to suppress the artillery from Saltpans and begin landing shots on the enemy. As soon as the cannonballs began falling amongst his tired troops, the Tattered Prince ordered a retreat.

The Sellswords withdrew in good order, though our Artillery continued to rain cannonballs down on them, along with the Fleet, which had just arrived, a testament to the Tattered Prince's Skills as a commander. However, doing so forced them to leave three thousand men on the field dead, wounded, or captured. Our own forces weren't doing so hot either, two thousand dead and wounded, though of those, perhaps seven-hundred-fifty would be able to return to battle after their wounds were treated and they recovered. It had been a bloodbath, though one that would see Saltpans surrender, as Lord Hawick realized he could not withstand a siege with just his militia and few remaining guards.

I struck a deal with him as part of his surrender. He would bring his remaining forces over to our side to bolster our flagging forces, buying us two thousand men as reinforcements, though of more dubious quality. Even with that, we would be unable to push on Maidenpool without reinforcements. The Tattered Prince had four thousand men still, and Lord Mooton had a thousand Militia. Without the men who needed to recover from wounds from this campaign, that would give us a rough parity of forces in terms of numbers. Even with the wounded men recovering, that would only give us an additional one-thousand-three-hundred men. Six-thousand-three-hundred men in total, two thousand of which were unreliable, recently converted, former enemies was not a good force to take against five thousand men behind the fortifications of Maidenpool.

I would need reinforcements, and that would give the Vale time to mobilize and send forces to Maidenpool. I had to hand it to the Tattered Prince, his campaign had been fought expertly. He had succeeded in his primary objective, which was to hold out until he could be reinforced by the Vale. In the meantime, I would need at least two weeks to get reinforcements from Stannis via the Rivers. That was if I wrote to Stannis that night requesting them and he dispatched troops immediately.

Fortunately, that was what I did and when the reply came back from Stannis, it came back with news. Stannis was fighting in the Westerlands, after having pushed up to and taken the Golden Tooth. He was now besieging the Seat of House Marbrand at Ashmark, while Tywin Lannister licked his wounds at the Crag, hoping that his Ironborn Puppets would land to reinforce him. That was good news, but I also received further good news. It seemed House Royce of the Vale was opposed to Littlefinger and had offered his submission to Stannis along with his force of six thousand men.

Bronze Yohn was sending his son and heir, Ser Andar Royce, along with two thousand men by ship to reinforce me at Saltpans by sea, while Stannis was sending me another one-thousand-seven-hundred from the four thousand men he had left at Harrenhal under Lord Mors Marshberry. Together, that would give me ten thousand men, hopefully enough to see this war through. It seemed that things were rapidly proceeding apace in the war despite my setback against the Tattered Prince. With any luck, we could get the War over by the end of the year.

Just in time for Winter to come and us to have to send forces to the Wall to deal with the White Walkers. . .

XXXX

AN: All right, so here we see the end of the Battle of Saltpans. The Tattered Prince has turned the battle into a meat grinder in order to force Ricasso's Campaign to stall out short of Maidenpool so that he can be reinforced by the Vale. It worked, and now Ricasso has to wait two weeks to get reinforcements of his own. Stannis is giving him enough reinforcements to go into Maidenpool with Ten Thousand Men.

Meanwhile, House Royce has declared for Stannis and managed to get their Vassals in Houses Shett, Tollett, and Coldwater to go along with them. They're Keeping four thousand of their Combined Six Thousand troops behind to force Littlefinger to send forces to dig them out of their castles, sapping forces from any reinforcements Littlefinger can send to Maidenpool. At the same time, Stannis and the main force are doing exceedingly well in the Westerlands, having pushed up to Ashemark and forced Tywin Lannister to the Crag to await reinforcements from his Ironborn Puppets. As we saw, however, the Reader intends to doublecross Tywin, though the Ironborn Civil War is still ongoing and the Westerlands represents a place for Balon's Loyalists under Asha to retreat to.

At any rate, the next chapter will be an interlude showing Stannis' Campaign in the Westerlands, then we'll have an Interlude in the Vale with Bronze Yohn and Littlefinger.

Stay tuned. . .