CHAPTER 91
The North.
It was evening.
Torrhen's Square, resting beside the great lake, was bathed in the final crimson rays of the setting sun.
Southwest of the castle, roughly ten kilometers away atop a hill, Euron stood silently on the high ground, holding a telescope as he observed Torrhen's Square through the lens.
Within the scope, Torrhen's Square appeared completely unprepared. Soldiers lazily leaned against the battlements, and some were even leisurely fishing from boats drifting across the nearby lake.
"That is my target?"
"What a flock of weak sheep."
Euron lowered the telescope and turned toward his younger brother, Aeron Damphair, who stood beside him. A strange gleam flickered within his right eye.
"Aeron, I want you to lead three hundred men and lure out the defenders of Torrhen's Square."
Aeron looked at Euron fearfully while trying to maintain his composure.
"You want me to act as bait?"
"Euron, do not forget Balon's orders. I am the second commander of this army…"
But Euron merely glanced at him once, and terrifying memories from childhood instantly resurfaced within Aeron's mind.
His body trembled slightly before he lowered his voice.
"I want five hundred men."
Euron chuckled softly.
"I can give you fifty more at most."
He casually touched the dagger at his waist and smiled faintly.
"Any more than that, and it would no longer be bait."
A chill spread through Aeron's heart, leaving him no choice but to agree.
After clarifying where he should lure the soldiers of Torrhen's Square, Aeron reluctantly departed with his trusted followers toward the castle.
Barely twenty minutes later, the guards of Torrhen's Square discovered Aeron's group.
The warning bells immediately rang throughout the fortress.
In an instant, the entire castle entered a state of alert.
Ser Benfred Tallhart, nephew of Lord Helman Tallhart and currently overseeing the castle in his absence, stood atop the outer wall's watchtower and looked down toward the approaching Ironborn.
His eyes swept across the distant field, but he only saw Aeron's small force.
Watching Aeron and his men continue advancing toward the castle, Ser Benfred laughed disdainfully.
"Do they truly think they can threaten Torrhen's Square with only this many men?"
"Captain Harle, gather the men! I shall personally lead the sortie and crush these raiders!"
The young captain of the guard immediately nodded, excitement filling his face.
"A battle delivered to our doorstep. Why would we refuse it?"
The captain quickly assembled the more than six hundred men currently stationed inside the castle.
A short while later, Ser Benfred led them out through the western gate and charged directly toward Aeron and his men.
Meanwhile, atop the distant hill, Euron still held the telescope in silence as he calmly observed the unfolding battle.
The two forces had already collided.
Even from the hill, the sounds of battle and shouting could clearly be heard.
Relying on their overwhelming numerical advantage, the defenders of Torrhen's Square heavily wounded Aeron's men almost immediately after the fighting began.
At this point, there was no longer any need to continue pretending.
Aeron could only retreat in panic.
Yet after fleeing for some distance, he glanced back toward the hill and still saw no sign of Euron making his move.
"Damn that Euron… he truly wants me dead here!"
Aeron turned back again and discovered Ser Benfred leisurely pursuing him from behind, seemingly treating the battle as little more than a game of cat and mouse.
"Capture those Ironborn alive. I want to know where they came fro…"
Before Ser Benfred could finish speaking, his expression changed drastically.
Hundreds of Ironborn suddenly emerged from behind the opposite hillside.
"Oh no, it's a trap!"
"Retreat! Return to the castle immediately!"
Ser Benfred screamed desperately while trying to turn back.
But it was already too late.
"Kill every one of those weak sheep!"
"I shall use their blood as sacrifice to the gods!"
Following Euron's command, the tongueless crewmen of the Silence silently raised their weapons and charged toward the soldiers of Torrhen's Square.
Only a few minutes later, Euron and his men caught up to Ser Benfred's retreating force before they could return to the castle.
A bloodthirsty smile spread across Euron's face.
"Leave none alive."
The crewmen of the Silence did not shout battle cries, nor did they communicate through words. They fought together purely through glances and an eerie mutual understanding.
Their weapons rose and fell amidst suffocating violence.
And their silence only made the slaughter even more horrifying.
Across the wilderness echoed only the sounds of steel cutting flesh, agonized screams, and dying wails.
Two hours later, Torrhen's Square, having lost nearly all of its defenders, was utterly incapable of resisting Euron's frenzied assault.
To prevent herself and her family from being slaughtered after the castle fell, Lady Tallhart had no choice but to order the gates opened and formally surrender.
At the moment of surrender, she also commanded the maester to send ravens to Winterfell, hoping aid would arrive as quickly as possible.
However, Lady Tallhart had gravely miscalculated one thing.
She had underestimated Euron's cruelty.
A bloody massacre soon began within Torrhen's Square.
At the same time that Euron fully occupied Torrhen's Square and began slaughtering its inhabitants, Victarion's Iron Fleet steadily advanced along the Fever River.
To avoid being discovered by the Ryswells and Dustin patrols near the Rills, the fleet had deliberately passed Saltpans Point under cover of darkness.
However, Victarion soon realized that with the Northern armies marching south, the western coast was now severely undermanned.
His caution had been almost unnecessary.
By now, the fleet was less than three hours from the upper reaches of the Fever River.
Around them, enormous swamp flowers of the Neck and countless strange creatures hidden within the darkness could already be seen.
Victarion stood at the prow of the Iron Victory, watching the increasingly narrow river while listening to the endless chorus of insects within the swamps.
"This cursed place," his first mate, the gray-haired Old Quellon, muttered bitterly, "I never wish to return here again."
"Captain Victarion, we are nearly there."
Victarion walked over and heavily slapped him on the shoulder.
"We are Ironborn, not men of the land. Rivers are merely roads for conquest."
He stared toward the dark silhouette of Moat Cailin and coldly issued his command.
"Tell the lads to ship their oars. We disembark here."
The Iron Fleet halted along the muddy riverbank like gigantic sea beasts stranded upon the shore.
Cursing loudly, the Ironborn shouldered their weapons before jumping into the knee-deep freezing mud and marching toward land.
The Kingsroad lay to the east, and after following the muddy trail south for over twenty kilometers, they would reach their destination.
"Lads!"
Victarion, clad in black iron armor, raised his massive axe high above his head.
"I want Moat Cailin taken before dawn!"
"Let the entire North throw open its gates for us to plunder!"
The Ironborn immediately erupted into excited cheers while raising their weapons high.
"Forward!"
Under the cover of darkness, nearly a thousand Ironborn rapidly marched toward Moat Cailin.
Around five in the morning, after marching through the entire night, they successfully reached the outskirts of the ancient fortress.
By that point, Newgate had already discovered their movements from the watchtower.
Cold sweat soaked his body as he stared at the seemingly endless line of Ironborn emerging from the north.
"How did the Ironborn appear from the north?"
"Has Winterfell already fallen?"
Newgate pondered for a moment before turning back toward the mere two hundred archers stationed behind him, nearly driven to despair.
"Damn it…"
"If the Ironborn had attacked from the south, I would not fear them even if their numbers doubled."
"But they came from behind us."
He sighed deeply.
The geographical advantage of Moat Cailin had been completely neutralized, and remaining here meant risking total encirclement.
"No matter what, I must break through before they launch their attack."
"I have to report this to the lord and to Winterfell!"
Newgate instantly made his decision and led his men along the eastern forest trails toward White Harbor.
By the time Victarion discovered the movement and dispatched men to intercept them, it was already too late.
Although more than a hundred men died during the escape, Newgate still managed to break through with around forty survivors.
Soon afterward, ravens from White Harbor flew across the North in every direction.
Meanwhile, off the coast near Sea Dragon Point, Asha stood upon the deck of her longship and stared excitedly toward the distant land.
"Tell the oarsmen to row faster!"
"I intend to capture Deepwood Motte within five days!"
At once, the excited cheers of the Ironborn echoed across the sea.