Artys Arryn POV
"Hoooo! Hoooo!" the screams echoed in the valley.
One man carrying an axe in his right hand and a human head in his left came out of the woods, followed by the rest of them.
Looking at them, I sighed. At least none of them were wearing my men's armor.
I will do that to others, send my men wearing their armor to their camp in the future battles.
"Hoooo! Take that, you Andal savages!" the man roared at us as he threw the head down. The head continued to roll down the grass like a ball.
"People should know when they are conquered," Lord Grafton said, his gaze fixed on the arriving men, trying to study them as much as he could.
I think I have heard that phrase somewhere.
A man brought a torch near me, so I put the tip of my arrow in the flames of the torch and pulled the string back, then shot it. It landed a few meters away from where the hill tribes were standing.
"ARCHERS, IGNITE!" I shouted.
With that, the mule centurions who were put as officers to command the archers shouted as they all ignited their arrows and pulled their bows. Catapults were being made ready to launch, all waiting for my command.
"Ahooo!" those savages roared like animals as they poured down the hill like bulls.
Perfect.
I waited for a few seconds until they arrived in range.
"FIRE!"
With that, thousands of arrows rained on the coming men along with catapults carrying oil pots. Those pots blasted into small fireballs on impact.
"I will signal the cavalry from both flanks to attack their sides," Lord Grafton suggested as the vanguard engaged with the incoming attackers.
"No, wait," I said dismissively.
I wanted them fully committed in the center, then I could surround them from the sides.
A rain of arrows came down from the top of the valley. A few hundred of the hill tribes were shooting at us, mostly women.
Their arrows poured into the cohorts at the forefront, though they didn't reach me.
I hope bears enjoy human flesh.
I looked at the sky and whistled to them, sending signals, and soon the crows started flying toward the forest and making noises.
"GRRRR!" echoes of animal roars started coming from the forest, which halted the battle going on.
Tens of grizzly bears came out of the forest, soon rushing toward the hill tribe women who were shooting arrows at my men. Screams followed.
"Holy seven shits, are you kidding me? What kind of witchcraft is that?" Lord Grafton commented.
"Not witchcraft. Let's say they are well-trained pets," I tried to give a short explanation. Trying a longer explanation would only make things messy here.
"Wait, how did you do that? Tame the bloody bears?" he said with disbelief.
Well, what can I say? Let's call it a god's gift.
"Oh, no need to go into details, Lord Royce. Just enjoy the fruits of victory," I said with a smirk as I watched those bears attack the hill tribes and tear them into pieces.
A bear legion sounds nice. Maybe I should build one now.
"Order the cavalry to charge," I spoke as the guards beside the horn gave the sides a signal to charge.
The cavalry rushed from both sides, attacking the hill tribes from the rear, and soon they were surrounded from all sides, butchered one by one.
"So it ends. The Vale will finally be peaceful," Lord Royce smiled with delight.
"Not really. We managed to defeat the major hill tribes, but there are many remnants." I looked at the old man, cutting off his short-lived relief.
"The men must train since a wounded tiger is much more dangerous. Those leftover savages would be far more ferocious."
It was a lie.
All the hill tribes had been tamed, but I still needed the hill tribe excuse to continue training the men.
The Westerosi armies are built mostly of levies headed by knights and men-at-arms. I don't want my levies to be weak.
These foolish idiot lords think they control the legions because they command them.
A legion might have men from their houses, and they might command them, but whose orders do they follow? Which banner do they fly? Who leads them? And most importantly, who pays them?
The answer to all those questions is me.
These fools think they are getting the deal of their lives. They have better-equipped soldiers and House Arryn pays them. They are getting good soldiers for free.
But they are doing the same mistake the Roman Senate did. The one with the purse controls the legions. They realized it only after the First Triumvirate.
"My lord, look to the side," Lord Grafton brought me out of my thoughts as he pointed toward the east.
There was a huge number of people there, mostly women, kids, and teenagers, and a few men walking out of the forest.
I checked the battle again. It was coming to an end. The hill tribes were cornered, surrounded from all sides, butchered like sheep.
So now I have to deal with the refugees of war.
"Let's go. Lord Royce, get a few thousand men. We will take a look at our new prisoners," I said while gesturing for the soldiers to bring me a horse.
"What are we supposed to do with them?" Lord Royce raised his concern as he mounted his horse. "No matter what, these savages cannot integrate with the rest of the people."
"Don't worry about that. They shall live in the lands of House Arryn. Send ravens to the lords of the Vale. Tell all lords to send all imprisoned hill tribesmen to Arryn lands. I will give them land so they can build their lives on," I said.
These are fierce warriors. I need to win them over and increase the number of my forces. The Vale could raise forty-five thousand men, and with their addition, I could recruit a few thousand more. I could at least touch five thousand extra.
Ten legions should be enough for now.
I can't recruit from other kingdoms now, leaving Essos as the only option. There should be plenty to recruit from there.
Soon we arrived at the group. My men surrounded the refugees from all sides.
"Who is the leader here?" I shouted, looking at those frightened faces.
An old man stepped forward.
I looked at the aquilifer and nodded.
He moved his horse forward and lowered the standard.
"The leader should bow and kiss the standard, showing his submission," he said loudly.
The old man did not want to, but after looking back at the fearful group of young men, women, and elders, he knelt and kissed the standard.
"Quite a way to make these savages submit," Lord Grafton murmured.
POV ends
~~~One month later~~~
~~~ Casterly Rock ~~~
Tyrion Lannister POV
"Walk fast, Tyrion. Your father said it's urgent," my uncle Kevan said, his breath heavy as we tried to reach our father as soon as possible.
"Uncle Kevan, that's the best I can do with my long legs," I chuckled lightly.
"Why is he calling us this urgently? Has something happened?" I asked, trying to distract him from giving me a scolding.
"I don't know, but all I know is he received a raven and he was pretty upset about it," he replied back.
A raven. Then I guess there is only one thing that could be the reason. It must be some bad news from King's Landing.
For the Seven's sake, please let it not be that the king found out the truth.
"Could it be?" I murmured.
"Could it be what?" my uncle asked. He heard my muttering.
"Oh, nothing. Let's not keep Father waiting," I said.
That was a close one.
Jaime and Cersei. Their relationship I have known since childhood, but after observing them for so long, I guess anyone could tell by looking at my nephew's features if they knew about Jaime and Cersei's past.
Soon we reached the door of Father's solar. As my uncle pushed open the door, I could see Father standing at the table, leaning toward it, his expression grim with anger.
"Brother? What has happened? You called for us," Uncle Kevan asked.
"The boy has won," he said in his usual cold voice.
Oh, so that's what it was.
Thank the gods. I thought Jaime and Cersei were caught.
"He defeated them? But the Lords of the Vale have been trying for thousands of years, since the first King of the Vale. How was a mere boy able to do it?" Uncle Kevan asked with disbelief.
"Tyrion, you seem relieved?" Father said as he looked at me.
This still creeps me out, the way he looks at me as if I am a bastard.
"Oh, nothing, Father. I thought I was in trouble," I joked, trying to crack a joke.
His gaze didn't leave me, as if he knew the truth. He looked at me for some time before shifting his gaze to Uncle Kevan.
"There are whispers all over the realm that House Lannister is no longer the richest house in Westeros," Father continued.
Oh boy, this is going to be a long lecture. I better sit down.
I walked over to the table and tried to sit. It's a little tough to sit properly on Father's chairs. He keeps his seats a little taller, of course, to humiliate me and remind me of what I am.
"If there were no rumors, then that would have been a problem," I said in a low voice as I tried to reach the wine goblet, only for my father to pick it up and place it away from my grasp.
"And why do you think that?" Father asked.
"Well, the Arryns have been making wine, rum, vodka, and what not. Ice, can you believe it, Father? The merchants say he transports ice from the North and ships it all over Westeros. The Iron Circle has one of the finest blacksmiths and their craftsmanship is famous all over. And to top this up, the Arryn silver mines," I said, trying to justify myself.
I hope to meet that young falcon one day. He has achieved what even the Mad King couldn't. He made Father mad and helpless at the same time.
"And what have you done besides drinking and filling the pockets of whores in the brothels of Lannisport?" he said with disgust.
"And your sister and brother in King's Landing are not contributing to the house too besides eating gold," he added as he sat down.
"What?" my father asked, noticing my gaze.
"What exactly do you plan? You haven't called us here just to complain. That's unlike you," I said with a smirk.
I may be short, but not a fool.
"Let's get to the order of business. I am sending you to the Vale," he said, looking grimly at me.
Shit.
I know that look of his.
"Why?" I asked in a low, doubtful voice.
"WHY? WHY, YOU SAY?" he shouted in anger.
"This is your house, and you will do whatever I say for the house," he added.
Well, that was unexpected. It's unlike Father to lose his demeanor. Artys must have really pissed him off.
"I don't have a choice, do I?" I asked, blinking my eyes at him.
The rumors about Artys are not good. The brutality he showed when he was dealing with the hill tribes in the early stages of that war. Though rumors say he buried them in the old tradition in the later phases, but who knows.
"No, you don't. And why do you fear so much about going to the Vale?" Father asked in a calm yet terrifying voice.
"The rumors about the Vale, and especially the boy, are not good. From what people say, he literally crucified hundreds of hill tribesmen. And they say the spies sent to the Vale usually die. Even Varys might—"
I stopped midway, realizing the reason the old man wanted to send me to the Vale.
"Are you mad? He killed your spies. What stops him from killing me?" I asked, raising my voice in anger.
"He won't do it. The boy can kill spies because they are sent in secret, and no other lord would admit to sending a spy. But you are a Lannister, and you will take a hundred men with you on the trip. Make your reason something like going to negotiate trade agreements," he said with a smirk.
Does he really think the boy who outmaneuvered the king and tricked him into giving a tax exemption at eight years old, who discovered so many things, and who is literally changing the Vale at such speed, won't see through this?
POV ends