|Ambition and Glory|
|Summary:||As the men wait to sail for Pyke, several conversations are begun in the Oldstones corner of camp.|
|Related Logs:||Anything having to do with The Greyjoy Rebellion, really.|
|Grey Gardens — Harlaw Island|
|Fog, rocks, some fires and some tents.|
|2 April 289|
Afternoon and the pickets are still in their lazily enforced patrols. With grey Gardens defeated and most of the Island subdued, it seems the Army of the cape has been left to occupation-or in this case a baby sitting role, while waiting to hear the next orders from either Tytos Blackwood, or from the Crown's commanders on Pyke. The men continue to hold camp within the village and of the labyrinth.
Amongst the flows and trickles of the men assigned, one man clad down in browns has been maneuvering himself in the bloody maze- and a pair of knights in the colours of Erenford have been behind him, though with a turn it seems they are gone. And the Septon content to wait for a few minutes, before spilling out of one of the crevices and into the tents stationed there. By the colour…
"Oldstones.." Marsden quips before he's moving towards their meager little set up. Brows raised.
It's certainly a smaller number of tents compared to those of the Freylings and the Mallistersa and Terricks. Tents for some sixty men are up, a portion of those poking at fires and cooking fish. The rest, presumably, are performing rounds or other army-related tasks. Ser Gedeon Rivers, one of three knights belonging to Oldstones, is working on getting another fire lit, some whittled sticks and recently caught fish beside him. He glances up, blinking over at Marsden as he appears. "Did the maze turn you around?"
"No." Marsden says after a moment, before he is offering a grin towards Ser Gedeon. Surely though Marsden recognizes him, let alone Gedeon him. After all, there's not another bald septon that's been amongst the ranks, let alone fighting. A dip of his head before he's coming closer to the fire. "Mind if I join you Ser Rivers?" There's the memory kicking in as a grin slides on his scarred face/ "Had a bit of a tail that needed slipping. Believe it or not Ser, amongst some of my Frey employers, I am more unpopular than the lordlings Mallister."
"I don't mind," Gedeon offers with a faint smile. "Spit those for me, would you?" He nods towards the collection of waiting and gutted fish, before turning his attention back to piling up tinder. "Is that so, good Septon?" he asks of the Freys, "Please, do tell. What has happened to make them so ill-disposed?"
"What did I do, Ser Rivers?" Marsden asks with a tilt of his head before he is reaching over to spit the fish as indicated. Fish up, he's shifting to place the spits out over the fire, and then he's removing his helmet and tossing it down by where it seems he will be sitting. "Well.." the Halfsepton begins with a quirked smile. "I've done a lot of things-but more importantly. I fucked a noble's daughter and got her pregnant. Mind you-this is when I was their septon." A low whistle. "Not rather liked by the Goodbrooks." a rub of his nose, before he is stretching out his legs. "Rather fucked things with my family-and well I think those things don't die easy."
"Nobody holds a grudge like nobility," he draws out his flint and strikes it, bowing lightly on the sparks until they catch and begin to burn. "Except, perhaps, nobility's bastards." Tucking the flint away, he glances over at Marsden and smiles. "How long ago was this little disaster of yours, and what's become of the daughter and your child?"
"Before the Rebellion. Gods, I was what-Seventeen eighteen? I cannot quite remember." Marsden offers with with a shrug. "I don't know. Probably drowned in a sack- or they were quieted away somewhere to a Wode or a Paege.." A roll of his shoulders. "All the same-there are places I cannot go, because some memories linger." A glance back towards Gedeon "What of you, Ser?"
Gedeon listens in silence, using a slender stick to nudge and cajole the little flame into growing before leaning back and looking over at Marsden. "What of me, septon?"
"Do you have any ill lingering memories. You know nobilities bastards and all?" Marsden replies, before he is looking to the fire and with that he's coming up from where he was reclining- coming to squat down and aid his body to blocking the wind. 'Let me Ser.." A pause before he is looking back to the Knight, eyes trailing to the tents and the back "Are you and your Lord going to be moving on with the Army if we're to Pyke, or will you be headed home if released?"
"Do I carry grudges, do you mean, or do others carry grudges over me?" Gedeon asks, though he shrugs. "Either way, the answer is likely 'yes'." He nods as Marsden leans forward, letting the other man take over the building of the fire. "I expect we'll sail on to Pyke, septon, as any loyal Riverland house should do, even a small one."
A laugh leaves the septon before he is nodding. "A good and truthful answer. Were only so many men, like you." A shake of his head as he continues to help with the fire, reaching for some of the wood close by to better stack the little cone, as if that would protect the kindling on this fucked island. "As do I plan to go, Ser." A turn and he looks over his shoulder. "Does your Lord need a Chaplain?" Just as with Bruce he broaches the subject out of the blue and bluntly. "I have my own armor and arms. My pay right now is negotiated with the Naylands to what I can steal here, which I have been doing. But should you both like my mettle, I could be convinced to swear and settle." And like that he's reaching up to adjust the spit as the flames grow. "And I don't complain when I eat fish."
At least the wind cuts the fog—a little. This lets Kamron Mallister wander the camps in order to get the best view of this land that they've conquered. He's added a purple-lined cloak of gray to his usual attire, clasped with a simple steel eagle, and one hand keeps it close to prevent it whipping about. His search for the best outlook has taken him afield from the city and the Mallister camp, but he doesn't seem to have noticed yet. He stops a few paces off from the flickering birth of a fire, frowning about and shaking his head, "Never a good view on this Seven-damned island."
Gedeon rubs a hand over the stubble along his jaw (hostile conquests never do good things for hygiene), watching the somewhat-Septon as he considers his next words. He opens his mouth to speak… when Kamron Mallister arrives, and the blond knight is looking over his shoulder instead. "That's because there's little enough to see," he calls in reply. A few of the other Oldstones men, about their own smallfires, glance up and over, chuckling at the weak joke.
"Heyo." Marsden calls back towards Kamron, as his hand rises up. With the flames coming to life, the septon turns the spit once before creeping back to where he was perched before. Content to lounge back as the fish cook. A slight nod is given the Mallister knight before he is looking back towards Gedeon, a brow raised up.
Kamron glances over at those directing their words at him, raising a brief hand in greeting. The commentary on the scenery draws a crooked grin to his lips, "I don't know, there's always another rock to see." The words are scored by dry amusement, and he shakes his head, "Just wanted to get a good look at what we fought over. Turns out the island won't even allow that." A thoughtful frown touches the man's features as he studies Gedeon for a long moment, and then the smile is back, "There aren't many golden-headed men with us on Harlaw…" He holds out his hand, "I'm Ser Kamron Mallister."
"Men never know what they fight over," Gedeon says, waxing philosophical with a lazy smirk. "Not really, not matter how clear the skies." As Kamron comes closer, Gedeon rises into a polite stand, offering the Mallister a nod. "I know who you are, Ser," he assures as he accepts Kamron's hand with a firm shake. "I'm Ser Gedeon Rivers, sworn to Oldstones. Seems the mist has led you into our little corner of the sprawl." He glances towards the Septon before adding, "and this is the Septon Marsden Streem, my lord."
A salute is passed back towards Kamron, as he remains right where he is sprawled, or rather, has perched himself, not entirely sprawling at the moment. "Cheers." he offers to the Mallister knight, before Marsden is is reaching back up to turn the fish. "I believe we've seen all the island we can see- If that's a fair statement, Ser Kamron." Marsden quips, "Don't think there's much here anyone would care to see. Unless you go looking for a mine-they have mines here."
Kamron gives another wry smirk as Gedeon mentions that he knows who the Mallister is, "I guess it's a lost hope that anyone in the army doesn't. Then again, you're not exactly an unknown either. I thought it was you, Ser Gedeon, by your description, but wasn't sure." The introduction of the septon draws his eyebrows up slightly, but not too far—evidently not many wear the seven-pointed star on campaign. "A pleasure to meet you both. And fighting the reavers in the Gardens was bad enough, I'll skip any guided tours of their mines, thank you, Septon." Once more, humor touches his lips and his voice alongside the words.
"Mmm," Gedeon agrees, idly ruffling a hand over his pale hair. "One of the few tow-headed lads fighting on our side, at least in this part of the army," he allows. "I expect those marching from the Westerlands have considerably more, it's not uncommon, there. We've a meal cooking, such as it is," Gedeon says, nodding towards the fish Marsden is slowly turning on their makeshift spits, "if you've a mind to rest a moment and eat."
"I suspect as much myself, Ser." Marsden chimes in on Gedeon's behalf. "He looks no more iron born, than a Lannister or one of his own might." And with that the bald septon dips his head in a nod towards Gedeon's direction. About that time, there is movement from the Crevices and there stands another Erenford knight. The Septon pauses in his musings, long enough to snag up his helmet. A faint frown before he's getting to his feet. 'Excuse me brothers.." he offers, before he's moving, though he hesitates for a moment. "Take my perch Ser Kamron, I may be long.." And with that he is moving to sneak another way through the camp. The other knight, for know seems loathe to follow.
Marsden has left.
Kamron nods his head at Gedeon, "Exactly." He nods as well at Marsden's words, "Golden is as golden does." He nods his thanks at the offer of a seat, moving over and availing himself of it. The offer of food, however, draws a shake of his head, "They've opened up the larders of the citadel. Some idiot made eel-stuffed grouse and was trying to pass it around. I doubt I'll be hungry for hours." Shuddering a bit, he flashes another grin, "You've kept yourself busy here, Ser Gedeon?"
"Eel-stuffed… my stomach cramps in sympathy," Gedeon chuckles, taking over the spit turning as Marsden is called away. "I've kept myself as busy as any other soldier, my lord. Done my best to live another day and perform my service to the king. It will be a fine thing, though, if I survive long enough to see the Riverlands, again. I've done much traveling n my life, but never to such a dismal place."
Kamron smiles faintly at the 'my lord,' "Ser Kamron, Kamron, or Kam is just fine, Ser Gedeon. I'm no Lordnot reallyand not likely to ever be, Seven willing." He nods at the response, "Dragonstone is a match for rocks and stones, but at least it has the citadel to liven things up." He shifts a bit on the stone he's taken over from Marsden, leaning back and bracing himself with his hands behind him and crossing one leg over the other, "From what I've heard, we'll be back in the direct service of King Robert soon. I rather hope that we make it to Pyke in time to shorten a few Greyjoys by a head." There's a moment's delay, and he adds, "It would be good to have Lord Stark and His Grace leading us again…"
"It would be good to have the war won," Gedeon opines, sitting back down and draping his arms over his knees, "so we can look to repairing the damages it caused."
Kamron nods his head once in agreement, "And those that the last war caused." His voice has dropped just a hint in volume, and his blue-gray eyes have sharpened on the other man, but he remains leaning back, as if perfectly at his ease. "There are still some wrongs perpetrated in the wake of the Rebellion that it sounds like you mean to address."
"Well, I suppose that is so, Ser Kamron," Gedeon agrees with a somber nod as the other man studies him. "I have done all I can with the help of those who would support my cause and my father's wishes. Now, I wait on the King's ruling which, understandably, has been postponed."
Kamron nods his head, "You've spoken to Lord Tully thought…" There's only enough question there to ensure that it's just confirmation he's seeking, "…and you have his approval." Again, there's just a hint of a delay to seek confirmation, "I've been thinking that perhaps Pyke is the place to get things done. If a few of us can make a real name for ourselves there, we might even get an audience with King Robert."
"Oh yes," Gedeon agrees with a nod, "There was a hearing over the case and Lord Tully ruled in our favor and sent his recommendation to the King. But, only the king can legitimize a bastard, so I wait." He considers Kamron's words before offering a small nod for them. "Perhaps so, if the battle presents an opportunity for heroism. Did you have something in mind, ser?"
Kamron shrugs slightly, "I was thinking that if we can keep the Mallister, Terrick, and Valentin men together, we might make a push for the first breach that presents itself. Or maybe even find a Greyjoy son or two to take on." At that, he sits forward, his right hand dropping down to the axe hanging from his right hip, his thumb caressing the truncated arc of the leather-wrapped head. "We Mallisters have a score to settle with them, so it would suit both of our purposes."
"As do the Terricks," Gedeon replies, removing the fish from the fire, now that their outsides have begun to crisp. "You may have to speak with Ser Jarod Rivers on the matter of keeping together. His squire is Rowan Nayland, and he's promised Lord Rickart the Terricks would keep near the Naylands so Lord Rickart could watch Lord Rowan in battle."
Bruce has arrived.
Kamron nods sharply at the first statement, but the second causes him to grimace slightly, "Hells." He draws in a breath, then shrugs his shoulders a bit, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his thighs, hands out to the little fire in the midst of the Valentin men to keep the chill of the afternoon breeze at bay. "Maybe we can still arrange the lines. I'll talk to Ser Jarod about trying to arrange things so we can all support one another if we see an opportunity. That may have to be enough anyhow."
"I think that's a fine idea, ser, and if I know Ser Rivers, I think he'd be amenable to such a plan," Gedeon answers with a nod of approval. He sits beside Kamron, removing cooked fish from where they were resting over the fire.
Kamron keeps his voice quiet, but not the hushed whisper of secrets being exchanged that seems louder than a shout at times, "I think he would as well. It may be that we just all have to be ready to move if one of us sees an opportunity." A faint smirk touches his lips, "Without breaking the lines or anything terminally stupid like that which would give Lord Rickart cause to complain about our actions." An easy chuckle rises up to his lips then, and he straightens up a bit, "Then again, all of this presupposes that we actually get shipped over to Pyke in time to join in the final assault."
Bruce has just come from taking his exercise and bathing in the sea, and for the last few days since the taking of Grey Gardens has been relishing being without armour. He's got a woolen cloak over a clean tunic and trousers, his hands jambed firmly in the latter's pockets as he wanders along.
"I shouldn't think breaking the lines would go far towards earning the King's approval, either," Gedeon agrees with a smirk, "Nor would a bevy of us all piling onto a single man, no matter who he may be. That is not how names are admirably made." As Ser Bruce makes his way past them in his meanderings, Gedeon offers a nod. "Afternoon, Ser Bruce. You look refreshed."
Since he's gotten back to his feet, Martyn has taken to walking around the camp areas a bit, looking at this thing and that a bit thoughtfully. And today is no different as he's making his way around with a bit of a thoughtful expression. Glancing around every now and then, as he keeps on walking around rather aimlessly, it would seem.
Kamron nods his head, "Too right. But being the first through a breach and carrying it… that's something to be respected." There's a pause, "So long as you carry it." Gedeon's shift of attention outward draws Kam's head around, and he raises a hand in silent greeting to the returning Nayland Captain of the Guard, and then to Martyn as well. "It looks like everyone is avoiding the eel-stuffed grouse. For some reason, it's apparently a delicacy. Not that you'll see me eating it."
Bruce turns to greet the two knights amicably, dipping his head at Kamron with a, "M'lord." and nodding further at Gedeon. "Ser Gedeon. I am! I'm sleeping like a normal man again, can take my exercise and drills with the men and bathe without fear of an Ironman javelin or arrow taking me in the back. Er, again." He rubs an area in his lower back. "Still sore, from that crypt we landed on." There's a pause as he appraises the two of them, having caught the tail end of the conversation. He doesn't pry, though. The Stonebridge Captain does notice Martyn - he smiles. "Ser Martyn, good to see you back on your feet. You're a man of steel, after that whallopping to be up and about - better than Iron. Steel doesn't break as easy." He winks.
Ser Martyn gets a nod from Gedeon as well. "A fine thing to see you out and about my lord. Welcome to the Oldstones corner of the camp." Bruces words get a faint chuckle from the blond knight.
"Now if I'm a man of steel, then why does it feel more like I'm made of something far softer?" Martyn remarks with a brief grimace, before he nods at the others, "Ser Bruce, Ser Gedeon, Cousin. I hope all three of you are well. And thanks for the welcome." The words about the eel-stuffed grouse makes him grimace a bit, "Eel and grouse can be eaten apart from each other, never together…"
Kamron shakes his head, "It's not my back I was worried about, myself, Ser Bruce." He chuckles softly, adding in, "Even steel can be hammered into shape if you hit it hard enough and often enough." A nod to Martyn is followed by, "Grouse is alright if it's not overdone, but eel…" A shudder of revulsion shakes the young man's frame, "I've never acquired the taste, and I never want to."
Jarod has arrived.
"Just need a little bit more time next to the fire, Ser Martyn." Bruce motions at the aformentioned fire pit, hands getting shoved back into his trousers pockets after. "Eh, I was turned around directing the lads. All of a sudden - BAM! Went white, and I went down. Damn that hurt more than the one that put me out of the fight."
There's a small wince from Gedeon as Bruce describes his wound. "The worst ones always come when you don't expect them," he agrees. "Never though a single swipe across the stomach could lay me so low. Still, we're a hardy lot, it seems. Battered, recovered, ready to fight again."
Martyn nods a little bit as he listens to what's being said now, "When you expect the wound, it seldom feels that bad, I guess," he offers, before he offers a bit of a grin at Gedeon's words, "We get knocked down, but get up again, ready for more…" Stepping further over to the fire now.
Kamron grimaces along with Gedeon at the mention of the wound, "Always the ones you don't see that hurt the most. You can't brace for 'em." A chuckle lifts to his lips, "Those are also the ones that tend to knock you ass over teakettle in my experience." There's a self-depreciating chuckle along with those words and his own agreement with the general consensus, "I always feel a little bad about hitting someone who's looking the other way, myself." He pauses a moment, then adds, "Doesn't stop me from hitting them, though. Serves them right for letting me get behind them."
Bruce nods in agreement with the other men. "Aye, honestly, I don't ever really think twice about hitting someone. All is fair in war. I cut down five men when we took castle last week, all of them running away from me. It's not something I'm proud of, but it's not something I'll shy away from, either. It needed to be done." He shrugs, looking unconcerned at the morality of what he just said. He motions at Martyn. "How do you actually feel, Ser Martyn?"
"Does it?" he asks Bruce, his tone thoughtful rather than disapproving. The next questions are asked to the little grouping at large, "Why, if they're running? I mean, in the heat of battle, someone trying to end your life, you've a right to end theirs. But if they're craven and fleeing…?"
"Does it?" Gedeon asks Bruce, his tone thoughtful rather than disapproving. The next questions are asked to the little grouping at large, "Why, if they're running? I mean, in the heat of battle, someone trying to end your life, you've a right to end theirs. But if they're craven and fleeing…?"
Nodding a little bit as he listens to what's being said, Martyn keeps silent for now. That is, until he hears Bruce's question. Then he blinks a few times, before he looks to the man, "How I actually feel? What do you mean?" Looking a little lost in thought for the moment.
Kamron watches the interplay between men for a moment before he puts in his own opinion, "If they're really fleeing, and there's no one to rally them, I say let them run." He looks over to the Nayland sword, nodding his head as if ascribing him a point as he continues, "In this case, however, every one of them dead outside the Gardens is one less we had to hunt down and trap like a cornered rat. And -I- certainly couldn't tell if it was a feigned retreat or an honest one."
"Because the proper thing to do when the enemy is routing is to cut them down so they can't trouble you further, and to break the will of those who do get away to engage you again. If the enemy comes at you, go firm or trap him. If he is firm, charge him. If he runs, pursue him. Just like the proper thing to do in war when you take a town that has refused to submit is to sack it. Unless there are reasons not to. Which, honestly, there are, sometimes. That's the school of war that I was taught, Ser Gedeon, and it's always served me well. I'm no longer a common Guardsman of no rank in Lord Tytos Blackwood's Black Ravens, afterall." Bruce smirks wryly, winking at Gedeon. "Aye, Ser Kamron, but I usually think pursuing routers is the best course." To Martyn, "Er, I mean, health wise, Ser. Are you hale enough to resume command again?" Yes, he's a Nayland man, but there doesn't seem to be a hint of malice in his question or demeanour. Simple curiosity appears to be the source of said query.
Gedeon listens to each man's answer and offers a small nod for them. Whatever his own thoughts, he keeps them so and he nods towards the cooked and cooling fish. "If anybody's hungry for something other than eel-stuffed grouse…"
Martyn pauses for a few moments as he hears Bruce. "Almost, I guess. I mean, the wounds have healed, but I'd need a little time to get the body back in shape, right? Besides, when dealing with the Harlaws here, it's probably best if I don't resume command, after all." Grimacing a bit at that last part, as he shrugs. "Besides, we'll probably be a small part of the larger army again soon, right?"
Kamron nods to Bruce's description of combat techniques, although he does add in, "If they had an ambush waiting for us in the Gardens, things would have gotten real iffy. Luckor the Sevenwere with us though, and that was about all they had." He watches Martyn as he responds to Bruce's question, and his jaw tightens hard enough to broaden the lines of his face for a moment. Clearly, he's not happy, but he doesn't put up a complaint. Instead, he rises to his feet, "Thank you for the offer, Ser Gedeon, but I should be headed back to the men. We should talk to Ser Martyn and the others later on…" He nods to that worthy and the Nayland man, "Coz, Ser Bruce." And then he's meandering off into the afternoon breeze.
"Aye, aye that we shall. Likely with Lord Tytos in charge of the Riverlanders, I suspect, given that Lord Hoster made him so for this campaign. When we get to Pyke… Gods, that will be something." Far from being filled with wonder, Bruce sounds a bit apprehensive about it. "I didn't mind the eel-stuffed grouse, actually, Ser Gedeon…" Then, his sleepy blue eyes have turned to Kamron, making the rounds. "Nah, mate. They all sallied, the whole lot of them. There weren't no one left inside except the old ladies and little boys. I didn't notice for certain, but others did. Ser Rygar spurred us after they broke. Besides - if they'd had turned on us, then losing fifteen lads from the Nayland Guard is a good price to pay for knowing about an ambush, as opposed to the army."
Rafferdy slowly makes his way through the camps. He is using a tall walking stick, leaning kind of heavily on it as he goes. He is wearing a rather loose fitting shirt, the top of wrapped bandages around his chest visible where the shirt is only buttoned about halfway up. He looks tired, but determined, as he moves about.
"Did you not?" Gedeon asks of the eel-stuffed grouse. "To each man his own," he supposes with a shrug. Perhaps he would have said more, but one of the Oldstones mean approaches Gedeon to murmur to him. The blond knight nods. "If you sers will excuse me, seems there's a small matter of rank and file that requires my attention." The departing Kamron gets a nod before Gedeon stands and follows after the Oldstones lad.
There may be more to this log, but I don't has it…