Chapter 108: Encircling Estermont
Westeros, the Stormlands, the Narrow Sea, Estermont
Estermont is a small island located off Cape Wrath in the Stormlands. As the outermost island of the Stormlands, Estermont has always served as the gateway to the region.
Although Estermont is not as prosperous as Tarth and is merely a small mountainous island, its strategic value is extremely high. It once served as the maritime bridgehead of the Stormlands before Dorne was incorporated into the Seven Kingdoms.
House Estermont of Greenstone is a relatively young noble house. Compared to the ancient families whose lineages span thousands of years, their history is only a little over a century.
Although the strength of House Estermont does not rank highly among the great houses of the Stormlands, the current House Estermont has become a focal point of attention and flattery among the nobles of the realm due to the rise of House Baratheon.
The reason for this is that half of the Estermont blood flows within the royal family. The mother of King Robert Baratheon, as well as those of Stannis Baratheon and Renly Baratheon, all came from House Estermont.
The current Lord of Estermont is Lord Estermont. Since Renly Baratheon raised his banners against the Iron Throne, the lord of Greenstone has taken all the knights of his house to join him.
Thus, the one left to guard Greenstone is Ser Lomas Estermont, the second son of Lord Estermont. The people of House Estermont are much like their sigil—the green sea turtle: cautious and timid.
Although Estermont had not seen war for many years, Ser Lomas Estermont still extended patrol routes nearly twenty leagues from the island.
At this moment, on a stretch of sea nearly twenty leagues from Estermont, a small sailboat flying the banner of the green sea turtle bobbed with the waves.
Because the wind was against them, the crew had mostly relied on oars to move forward.
After rowing for some time, the sailors paused, allowing the vessel to drift forward on momentum.
"Can we turn back now, Captain? We've gone far enough. Don't let some sea monster drag us into the deep."
A freckled young sailor spoke to the bearded, scarred captain.
There were only about five men aboard, barely enough to operate the vessel. As crewmen of House Estermont, they received regular wages, and due to strict supervision among themselves, they rarely dared slack off during patrol.
"Hahaha, what's wrong? Missing your girl already? Once your father saves enough for the marriage tax, you'll have her soon enough!"
"Hahaha!"
…The freckled youth was immediately mocked by the others. Though he flushed red and tried to argue, no one paid him any mind.
For common folk living under noble rule, their desires were simple—a family, a warm home, and a stable life.
They cared little for who sat the Iron Throne; what mattered most was whether their lord would reduce taxes.
"Eh? What's that over there?"
Suddenly, one sailor looked behind them as if sensing something.
Moments later, he saw dark shapes of sails emerging along the horizon. The sheer number froze him in place.
"Seven hells! Turn around! Quickly! That's a fleet—and far too large to be patrol ships! Move, move!"
At the captain's shout, the crew scrambled into action, raising sails and rowing frantically.
Yet despite their efforts, their speed barely improved. The massive fleet behind them closed the distance steadily.
Just as the captain prepared to surrender, the pursuing fleet suddenly slowed.
Seizing the opportunity, the crew rowed desperately.
But each time they gained distance, the fleet would surge forward again—like a cat toying with a mouse.
After nearly an hour of desperate flight, they finally reached the harbor of Greenstone.
As alarm bells rang throughout the port, Estermont—silent for nearly twenty years—was once again plunged into the shadow of war.
Ravens burst forth from the rookery, scattering in all directions, mirroring the panic that had overtaken House Estermont.
"What do we do? What do we do? Did you see that banner? By the Seven! Why would Aegon Targaryen come to Estermont? Weren't the reports saying he had just taken Tyrosh?"
The portly Ser Lomas Estermont trembled as he spoke.
"My lord father, we are still far from Storm's End. You must remain calm. The Reach has already declared for King Renly. If we can hold out, the Redwyne fleet from the Arbor will come to our aid."
"Yes… yes, you're right. We are far from Storm's End. The ravens have been sent. King Renly will not abandon us."
Comforted slightly, Ser Lomas regained some composure.
Yet they seemed to have forgotten that during the War of the Usurper, the twin heirs of House Redwyne had been sent to King's Landing—and were now effectively hostages under Lannister control.
As a result, the Redwyne fleet dared not leave port lightly.
Meanwhile, aboard the warship Sea Fox, Garo lowered the Myrish lens in his hand—now replaced by what was commonly called a "Tyroshi spyglass."
With Jon's rise, workshops in Tyrosh had begun producing practical military equipment, and this improved spyglass had quickly overtaken traditional Myrish lenses in popularity.
"Lord Garo, are we really just going to blockade them like this?"
Kapo, a former pirate captain, spoke impatiently.
Although he had already gained magical abilities through Jon's power, he still preferred using axe and sword in combat.
His favorite tactic, as he often bragged, was freezing enemies solid before cutting them down.
"There will be opportunities to fight, Kapo. Our current objective is simply to draw attention."
Garo's expression was cold and unmoving, earning him the nickname "Stone Instructor" among the troops.
"No matter the situation, we must carry out Lord Aegon's orders without deviation. Do you understand?"
"Alright, alright… I get it. I just think taking this tiny island wouldn't be difficult at all."
"Send orders. Expand patrol range. Stannis Baratheon to the north and House Redwyne to the south are not enemies to be taken lightly. We must avoid engagement."
"Nearly two-thirds of the Chainbreakers' fleet is here. Lord Aegon needs them for the Liberation Campaign."
As signals were relayed across the fleet, patrol ships spread outward like drifting seeds.
"Deploy the trebuchets. Let's give them a proper scare. Their pleas for help will be far more desperate that way."
Soon, siege engines were raised, and panic spread further across Estermont.
The fleet formed a wide encirclement around Greenstone's harbor, deliberately leaving a gap for merchant ships to escape.
Within ten days, news of this would spread across Westeros and the Free Cities.
By the time the information took root, Tyrion's operations in the Disputed Lands would face far less resistance.
"Now that's more like it! Let me see that spyglass—I want to see if those Stormlanders have already pissed themselves!"
Kapo grinned eagerly.
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