Chapter 60: Chapter 27: Fish out of Water (Part 2)

4th Moon, 8024

Mountains of Nunn's Deep, the Westerlands

The soft patter of rain pattered against the red cloth of Lucas Blackwood's tent, but he heard little of it.

He knelt before several small wood figurines on a wooden table, several candles burning, hands clasped around his longsword.

May the warrior give strength to our swords and courage to our hearts as we prepare for battle

May the smith give our shields fortitude in the face of peril and preserve our armor against the enemy.

May the maiden preserve the lives of the young men that will fight upon these hills far from their homes and families, allow them to return unharmed

‘’Ser Lucas.’’ A voice rang out, startling him from his prayers.

A young man in the colors of his house peered into the tent, rain pouring down his steel helm.

‘’I gave orders not to be disturbbed.’’ Lucas said, rising to his feet.

‘’The Westerman….they've broken camp, they are marching on our positions.’’ The young man said.

Lucas nodded slowly ‘’I suppose that's good enough reason…..leave me for a moment if you will.’’

Once the man had withdrawn, Lucas slipped his heavy black ringmail hauberk over his studded brigandine and fastened a steel helm over his head, fastening a sword belt engraved with a white weirwood tree.

Taking one last look at the wooden carving of the warrior he snuffed out the candle with a chainmail glove and marched out into the rain.

Over 10,000 of his countrymen had formed a defensive line stretching over the hilly high ground near the goldmines of Nunn's Deep. Marching on their position was a larger force of Westerman, their ranks awash with red and gold banners, shining in the sun which had emerged from behind the clouds.

His own men were from every corner of the riverlands. A large number of his men had been raised from the lands surrounding Harrenhall and were Quoerhys men, fighting under the 4 white skulls on black and red. There were significant numbers of Frey and Vance men, as well as over 700 men of house Strong.

They had been the first men to answer Lord Tully's call at Riverrun, and he had sent them to strike west while he raised another force, with the purpose of taking the fight to the Lannisters and keeping the fighting out of their own lands.

They had laid siege to the castle guarding Nunn's Deep for two weeks before word came that the Lannisters were sending a force to repel them, the hills of Nunns Deep made for fine defensive positions however and Ser Lucas was agreed with Ser Symond Strong and Lord Garibald Perryn, the other commanders, that they could win a major victory on the high ground of Nunns Deep.

As the highest ranking commander among them it was the Lord of Branstone that addressed their host even though Ser Lucas would be leading the center in the coming battle.

‘’MEN OF THE RIVERLANDS…..THEY SAY THE STRENGTH OF OUR PEOPLE COMES FROM THE STREAMS AND RIVERS OF OUR HOMELAND…AND YET WE HAVE LEFT OUR HOMES AND STRENGTH TO FIGHT AMONG THE DRY HILLS OF THE WEST.’’ The Heavyset Lord said at the center of the line.

‘’THAT WILL NOT SAVE OUR ENEMY IN THE END, BECAUSE WE SHALL MAKE OUR OWN RIVER….A RIVER OF RED AND GOLD…WE SHALL WATER THESE HILLS WITH LANNISTER BLOOD….. YOU SHALL TELL YOUR GRANDCHILDREN OF THIS DAY…GIVE THEM A STORY WORTH TELLING.’’ The Lord of Branstone loudly declared, earning a raucous cheer from the Rivermen.

The Westerman wasted no time launching their assault and soon the battle was underway.

Lucas Blackwood, mounted on a brown warhorse, took his position at the center of the defensive line on the high ground.

We shall bear the brunt of the attack He thought to himself as he studied the Westermans plan of attack.

On the left Ser Symon Strong was leading a sortie of his light cavalry reserve to slow down the enemy advance, while Lord Perryn was dealing with a charge of Westerman freeriders, but the enemy center was advancing their infantry in strength.

‘’LOCK SHIELDS.’’ Ser Lucas commanded and his men at arms moved in front of the peasant levies and archers, forming multiple ranks of locked shields.

The Westerman charged up the steep hill in all their heavy armor and soon the two lines came together in a great crash, with the Westerman being forced to fight upwards from below their enemy.

Ser Lucas rode into the fray, turning away a spear thrust aimed at his horse's neck with his shield, pushing it forward until he heard the breaking of a finger.

He urged his horse forward, seeing one of his men engaged in single combat with a westerman spearman on the outskirts of the line, his warhorse bowled into the man, sending him crashing to the ground with a grunt and the westerman tumbled down the hill.

He saw a westerman swordsman parry a strike from an axeman from Harrenhall, delivering his own strike that nearly took the unfortunate man's head off.

Lucas rode at him, slashing his sword at the mans shoulder, drawing blood, turning away a slash at his leg with his shield, he delivered a ringing blow to the mans iron helm, sending him falling to the ground groaning, Ser Lucas left him there, a wounded foe was a defeated one and he had never been one to kill helpless enemies.

Turning to the left, he saw that Ser Symonds sortie had led the Westerman to drive him off with heavy cavalry, and their knights were charging his position. On the left, Lord Perryn was keeping the Westerman freeriders at bay with a small line of archers and crossbowmen.

After several more minutes, the Westerman heavy infantry had enough of their exhausting attack on the center, and fled down the hill, leaving behind a grisly scene of dead and dying, with the dying slipping down the hill when their strength left them.

His men began cheering but Ser Lucas raised a gloved hand ‘’IT'S NOT OVER YET.’’

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Sure enough, the Westerman center sent forward their next wave, this time a charge of lightly armored freeriders.

They rode up the steep hill, an awkward task but making surprisingly good time.

An idea came into Ser Lucas’s mind as he saw them ambling up the steep hills.

‘’HEAVY INFANTRY ON ME.’’ He shouted, charging down the hill.

The Men-at-Arms of the center followed him down the hill with a roar.

The charge took the Westerman center completely by surprise, and it was far too steep for the light cavalry to turn around and flee at speed so they could do little but sit vulnerable on their horses as hundreds of angry Rivermen charged at them.

It was a slaughter, he saw one of his men throwing a hatchet like a throwing ax, taking one of the riders in the middle of the forehead, sending him tumbling from his horse, landing on the rider behind him, similar scenes being seen all around.

They made short work of the freeriders, sending the survivors fleeing down the hill back to the Westerman center which began to withdraw in good order.

Turning to the left he saw that Ser Symon Strong had pushed back the charge of Knights, while on the right, Lord Perryn was preparing to deal with a line of pikemen who were slowly advancing up the hill.

Ser Symon, having dealt with his foes had his archers fire a volley on the advancing Westerman, while Ser Lucas ordered his tired men at arms to take the pikeman in the flank.

That soon put an end to the pikeman's advance, and soon enough the entire Westerlander army was retreating from the field, leaving thousands dead and wounded.

The victorious Riverlanders set about looting the dead, while the three commanders rode to debrief.

‘’The day is ours…..we have given the Lannisters a bloody nose and more.’’ Lord Perryn said, grinning, blood running down his helmet.

‘’They were certainly bloodied…but there will be more battles to fight….that was not the full strength of the Westerlands far from it.’’ Lucas said, dismounting tiredly from his horse.

‘’Perhaps not, but they have lost more than just the battle. In the midst of the fighting I chanced upon Lord Lefford of the Golden Tooth, I put a lance through his hip and gut…the men of the Golden Tooth will surely not fight now that their lord has fallen.’’ Lord Perryn said smiling.

Ser Symon Strong, never one to disagree, nodded his assent but Lucas frowned.

‘’He would have had more value to us as a hostage than dead my Lord…it is true the men of the Golden Tooth may abandon the Lannisters, but Lord Leffords heir will raise them again, no doubt wanting to avenge his father…..slaying him was poorly done…your own lands sit on the borderlands.’’

Lord Perryn grumbled at that ‘’Perhaps you are right…..I had not thought of it like that, it is the duty of a son to avenge a father.’’

Before Lucas could respond there was a cacophony of trumpets, and several shouts of alarm.

Lucas turned and what he saw made his heart sink.

Two huge hosts of men had entered into sight, one approaching the right of their position and another from the center where the first defeated host ahd come from, the hosts proudly bore the devices of the houses of the Westerlander lords.

‘’Prepare the men for battle….reform the shield wall.’’ Lord Perryn commanded, remaining calm to his credit.

‘’There is not going to be a battle my Lord….we have been beaten.’’ Lucas said sadly.

Lucas Blackwood was right, what followed after could hardly be considered a battle.

The enemy had nearly 1500 knights and the tired Riverman could not resist them, high ground or no.

Lucas ordered his own men to surrender, as did Ser Symon Strong, there would be some killing of course but he knew it was hopeless. He would have remained alongside his own men, but his retainers urged him to retreat while he could and continue the fight from the Riverlands.

Lord Perryn remained defiant however and held his ground against Lord Farman of Fair Isle until at last he was forced to flee the field, and many of his men were slaughtered for their leader's foolishness.

Out of the 10,000 Riverman who had held their ground at Nunns Deep, only 2000 managed to escape, with 8000 being killed or captured, while the Westerlanders lost some 3200 men, mostly as a result of the diversionary attack, though the loss of the lord of the Golden Tooth, overlord of the area of Nunns Deep, made it a bitter victory for some.

Shortly after, Lord Tully, leading some 15,000 men, marched into the west, not knowing of his forces' defeat at Nunn's Deep as the survivors had not been able to reach him. On his way to merge with his forces at Nunn's Deep Lord Tully would be ambushed at the Pendric Hills where the battle of Borrows would be fought.

Samwell Tully would lose over half of his forces in the battle, losing 8000 men dead, wounded or captured, compared to 4000 Westerlanders.

The Tullys would slink back into the Riverlands following these 2 battles, their ill fated advance into the mountains of the Westerlands costing them near 16000 men, and severely weakening the Tullys ability to contribute to the war.

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