Twenty-third day, Eleventh Moon, 260 AC (+3 days)

Ryden POV

The more of the world I saw, the more I realized that stories left out so much more than I had realized. Take, for instance, trebuchets. An excellent siege tool with a simple premise – throw rock, crush defenses.

Of course, people with something to defend didn't want to make it easy for an attacker. So, they built strong defenses and used clever designs to complicate matters. While an attacker would love to knock down a gate with a single rock, defenders designed things to make that hard. So, what was left out of the stories? What happened to the rocks after being thrown.

Lord Baratheon only targeted one gate, of the many, for this reason. The walls defenses held strong, denying us an easy victory, and now the ground in front of the gate was littered with rocks. An attempt to storm that gate would be difficult, and trying to get a ram in their impossible.

Knowing this, Lord Baratheon used the trebuchets to destroy the defenses atop the wall to make the assault easier, as well as the city behind the walls where we would assault to make the defenders' response weaker and slower.

The predawn light made it difficult to see, but the scene in front of Tyrosh has not changed significantly. The tops of the walls all had evidence of damage from the trebuchets, with some sections of wall starting to show signs of crumbling. If we waited another few weeks, I was sure that the walls would crumble even further. With news that Blackfyre was dead and that Prince Duncan was victorious, Lord Baratheon wanted to launch the attack on schedule. Hopefully, the news would destroy what remained of the Tyroshi morale.

The Northern contingent was under the command of Rickard, and we were responsible for taking the docks. Tyrosh was made up of many interior walls, dividing the city in more ways than one, which meant that taking the entire city today was incredibly unlikely. But if we could capture a section, we might be able to hold it. Trying to take the next section would be a nightmare, but that was a problem for another day.

I nodded to Rickard as I arrived at his tent. "Ryden," he said, quietly. "Are your men ready?"

"They are, my lord."

"Excellent," he replied. He turned to the rest of the assembled lords and masters and said, "You all know the plan. We have one siege tower for us, as well as plenty of ladders and a shielded ram. House Umber has asked for the honor of leading the charge on the ladders, which I have given. They are to be followed by Houses Ryswell and Whitehill. Houses Manderly, Mormont, and Karstark have been granted the honor of taking the gate. Houses Glover, Locke, Reed, Ragnar, and my own shall take the tower. Everyone else shall array their men outside the walls and will follow the first breach. House Ryswell shall organize those men."

"Prepare to climb ladders, lads," said Lord Umber. "Me and my men are ready to crack this bloody city first."

Lord Karstark snorted, while Rickard nodded and smiled. "I shall hold you to that, Lord Umber," said Rickard. "Just know, you'll have to beat me there."

Lord Umber grinned. "Care to make a bet?"

"Oh?"

"I've got a bottle of persimmon wine all the way from Slaver's Bay. You win, you get it. I win, I get that green wine of yours from Selhorys that I know you've been saving."

Rickard clucked his tongue. "Hardly an even trade – my bottle is renowned for its sweetness."

"I've got a spiced wine from Ghiscari that I'll throw in. Poor vintage, but the spices are supposed to be from Yi Ti."

Rickard grinned. "It's a deal."

The men drifted off after that, and I went to collect my men and bring everyone to the siege tower.

The climb to the top of the tower was not fun. I had never had a fear of heights before, but standing on the exposed top of this contraption made me realize that a fear of heights was quite reasonable after all. As archers, most of my men were placed at the top of the tower to help secure the wall before the ramp was lowered, and the men stormed forward.

A mass of men at the base of the tower began to heave forward as the Sun began to rise above the horizon, casting the world in light. The tower moved forward in fits and starts, but it began to smooth out as the men got into the rhythm. Bells from the city heralded our approach.

Drums from our camp answered back as the men marched forward, and the thump of the trebuchets added to the sound of violence.

The walls loomed closer, but from atop the tower, looking down, they didn't seem so scary.

"Ready!" I shouted out.

A ballista bolt ripped through the tower, but hit nothing vital. As we neared, their ballista's accuracy increased but our trebuchets also had enough light to target the ballistae's new locations.

"One minute!" shouted Rickard from below my platform.

"Clear the wall!" I shouted to the archers. "As fast as you can! Loose!"

The defenders were still rushing to the walls, and the broken crenellations provided little cover. Some of them carried shields, but few did as most of the defenders were archers. I could see the infantry still rushing into place, so I shouted to Rickard, "Rickard! Infantry isn't here yet!"

"Clear some space!" I shouted, loosing an arrow.

Arrows traded back and forth, few finding purchase. Ranger Ben went down with an arrow in his throat beside me. Furious, I aimed at his killer, loosing shaft after shaft.

I had made a decision to attack. Ben's death was on my hands, but I had made a promise to myself. I would not back down.

The archers on the walls were huddled behind cover now, so I shouted, "Focus the infantry! Make space for our men!"

The mercenaries that arrived to defend the wall were well armored, and huddled behind their shields as they moved forward, so it was crucial to keep them there.

A ballista bolt shook the tower as it lodged in one of the main supports.

The tower shook once more as it hit the wall and stopped.

"Ramp! Lower the ramp!" shouted Rickard from below.

"Quicker!" I shouted to my men. "Clear the wall!"

I leaned over the railing and got the angle to hit a defender hiding behind a crenellation. Another Ranger went down with an arrow in his shoulder, as a flurry of arrows were exchanged. Arrows scraped my armor, but I kept up the pace as the ramp slammed down on to the wall.

Men poured out, with Rickard and Lord Glover leading the way, as they charged into the mercenaries who stood ready. The ramp became clogged with bodies as men pushed to get onto the wall, and the defenders pushed back. Some men fell off the ramp, blood spraying from wounds, others tripped and fell in the melee.

I continued to concentrate my arrows on the infantry, trying to weaken their formation so that we could push onto the wall.

It was a desperate fight, in a precarious position, but the Stark and Glover men held true and foot by foot, pushed onto the wall.

From my vantage point, I could see the Umber men nearing the top of the ladders, but the archers along the wall were having a free time shooting through the machicolations. "Ladders!" I shouted. "Help the ladders!" We aimed at the ladders closest to us and tried to force their assailants back. Some of the ladders were too far away, so all I could do was pray for them.

All too soon, we began to run out of arrows. Our supply exhausted, and the tower still clogged from men trying to get to the wall, I had to make a choice.

"One last push on the ramp!" I called. "Use the last of our arrows to push them back!" The Umber berserkers were starting to get to the top of the wall, slashing about with their axes with wild abandon. Down below, the ram was hammering at the gates, but I held little hope for it.

The shieldwall of the two groups were locked in a struggling contest that I needed to break. Arrow after arrow, I tried to weaken the defender's line. Even as Westerosi men died, Master Glover was not one to give up. With a roar, he wedged his shield between two of his opponents and used an axe to tear into the second line of the defenders. He managed to push forward, cutting off a section of the defenders, who he then pushed off the wall. Swords and spears hit uselessly off his full plate armor.

With the first crack in the shieldwall opened up, the Glover men-at-arms followed their lord, and the tide had turned.

"Forward!" shouted Rickard. "For Winterfell!"

With my arrows exhausted, I climbed down and joined the fray.

Fighting atop the wall was precarious; it was narrow and clogged with men – dead, alive, and wounded. We had gained purchase on the wall, but we had paid a heavy price. Nor had we bought the wall wholesale – just gained a few precious feet.

Some men pushed the dead off the side to clear room, while others helped our wounded back to the tower. Men were milling everywhere as no one could push to the front. There was nowhere to flank – nowhere to help.

I stood there, feeling like a fool. I had jumped down because I wanted to help, but I was doing nothing. At least up on the archer platform, I had a view.

After what seemed like forever, the mass of men surged forward.

Calls from the front started to filter back. "We've pushed 'em back!"

"Stairs! Down the stairs!"

"What's going on?!" I shouted.

A man-at-arms a few rows up turned back and said, "We've gained some stairs into the city, my lord!"

"What about the gatehouse?"

The man shrugged and started to move forward.

The stairs leading to the city were a set of simple wooden stairs, meant to allow the soldiers to reach the wall quickly, while not allowing a large point of entry for enemies that managed to gain the wall – like us. Men jogged down the steps in single file, while others continued to push along the wall to the gatehouse that loomed in the distance. We needed that gatehouse to take this section of the city.

But there was nothing I could do on the wall, except for stand around some more.

I looked back to the stairs.

I nodded to myself and followed the stream of men down. In the city, the men started to disperse, going around, sacking the city. I frowned, as the battle was far from won.

"To me!" I shouted, trying to rally the men. "To me! We need to capture the gate!"

Men started to coalesce around me, with a few reluctant men coming out from the buildings, which I duly ignored.

"Form up!"

As more and more men made it down the stairs, I sent a few men out into the city to scout things out.

Eventually, I felt we had enough men, so I began the march on the gate.

There were enemy reinforcements waiting in the square behind the gate. They turned to face us, so I ordered the charge. "Forward! For the King!"

The battle turned into a messy melee as the frontline of my side crashed into theirs. With so many men from different Houses, as well as a mix of thanes and men-at-arms, it meant that none had training in holding together in formation. I tried to keep my men close to my sides as I fought, but I had to rely on my armor to keep me safe more than I liked.

I blocked a sword with my shield, stabbing forward in return into the man's exposed armpit.

Most of the defenders here seemed like new conscripts - poorly trained and poorly armored. We pushed them back easily, and all too soon, they began to rout.

As the men cheered, I inspected the gate. The gatehouse still loomed above me, but the gate itself was massive. It was a wooden door, reinforced by iron, and had a large wooden crossbar that helped to secure it. Behind this gate lay another one, followed by another that the men outside the walls were currently trying to breakdown. The middle gate was one that dropped down from the gatehouse above and was made entirely of metal.

I frowned. What was my next step? I could get the men to lift the bar and open the door, but that did nothing to help with the middle gate.

Just as I was about to order the men to lift the bar, one of the men I had sent to scout returned. "My lord! A large group of Tyroshi are coming from the city! Five hundred at least!"

I cursed. I had two hundred men with me, if that, and even as more trickled in, the small stairs restricted how many men I could get.

"How long until they get here?"

The scout shrugged. "Ten minutes? Fifteen? I ran back, but they are just moving at a quick march."

I nodded, dismissing the man. Five hundred versus two. Shit odds.

I wanted to make a name for my House, but not as a dead hero. I had almost taken the gate – that would have to be good enough for today.

"You!" I called out, pointing to a nearby man. "Go grab some torches and put it on the bar across the gate."

"My lord?" he asked. "Wouldn't it be better to just lift the bar? The fire won't catch easily."

"We're leaving, so we might be able to weaken the door and make it easier to break down."

The man nodded uncertainly and went about his task.

I called out to the men who were now looting the square. "You have less than one minute! We are leaving! Back to the wall! Enemy reinforcements are coming, and I don't plan to wait here until they arrive!"

The looting took on a frenzied aspect.

We quickly left and climbed back up the stairs, reversing the flow of men that was still coming down. I sent out a few men to make sure everyone left the city. At the top of the wall, I found that Master Glover and Rickard had forced their way into the gatehouse, and the section of the wall from the siege tower to the gatehouse was clear of enemies.

There was still fighting in the gatehouse, as the enemy fought over every single inch and refused to give ground.

I relayed my status to a messenger and told him to ask for orders from Rickard. While he did that, I got my men – the Rangers and smallfolk – grouped and had them rest. Fighting continued down the wall as our forces continued to try to push back the defenders. I couldn't see the rest of our forces at the other attack points, but I hoped they were having greater success.

I had first come south with seventy men and had received another fifty in the second wave. Many had died since coming, and some had left with Arthur, but I had started the day with fifty men. Now, sitting here, I had forty-five men – two of whom were severely wounded. That was almost a fifteen percent casualty rate. Assaulting a wall was supposed to be deadly work, but I knew the face of each of my men that had died. I knew they had families waiting for them, and I knew that they all had hopes and dreams for the future.

Messengers ran to and fro as I sat back and watched. Battles were always so full of chaos; it was always surprising when things managed to get done.

After a few moments, a messenger ran up to me. "Master Ryden Ragnar?" he asked. At my nod, he continued, "Lord Stark wishes to see you in the gatehouse – it has been captured."

I made my way down the length of the wall, spotting the rising plumes of smoke that drifted off the various burning wrecks of ballistae that lined the wall.

The floor of the gatehouse was packed with the dead. Narrow corridors and doorways told me the tale of the difficulty of capturing the building. I found Rickard, Master Glover, and Lord Umber in the main room.

"My lord," I said, bowing my head to Rickard.

"Ryden! Excellent timing. The messenger said you almost captured the gate from behind?"

"Almost, my lord. Unfortunately, a large group of reinforcements forced my retreat."

Rickard nodded. "Damn. I suppose that makes the order to retreat easier to swallow, though."

"Retreat?" I asked.

"Troubles elsewhere," confirmed Rickard. "The nature of the city walls sectioning off the city makes it difficult to capture without outright victories. We cannot hold the gatehouse without securing the entire section of the city, and we can't do that without more reinforcements."

A loud clang reverberated through the room.

A voice called out from the next room, "The middle gate has fallen, my lord!"

"Excellent! Destroy the dropping mechanism, then we shall leave," he called back. Turning to me, he said, "We shall destroy what we can to make it easier next time."

I frowned but nodded regardless. It wasn't my call to retreat, but I had to obey anyway.

Master Glover smiled tiredly. "Still, for a first attack – and a probing one at that – I say we made a good showing!"

"They were weaker than expected," replied Rickard. "But the design of their defenses was hellish."

Lord Umber nodded. "And I believe you beat me to the top of the wall, my lord."

Rickard just grinned.

Xxxx

Arthur POV

"All right, run it by me again – from the top," I said.

"As head of the state, the First Servant will be in charge. Directly voted on by the people every four years, I have a wide range of powers, but I am held back by the Senate. The Senate, voted on in different blocks every six years, has the power to approve new laws and treaties. The Conclave is another body, one that has the power to draft laws and is responsible for the oversight of the Senate and is also elected in blocks every six years."

"And who is responsible for the oversight of the Senate?"

"The First Servant."

"Alright, and who has control over the elections?"

"The First Servant can call for an election, but so can the Conclave, but the oversight is done by the Senate."

"A bit confusing," I muttered.

"True, but I am trying to keep anyone thing from controlling everything."

"Except for yourself," I pointed out.

"I am – to a point," replied Vamyx. "I will retain control over all matters of war, and I can draft but not approve laws."

"What about you giving general orders?"

Vamyx shook his head. "I can in emergencies, and they last a short while, but it seems like it would just render the whole government pointless. I would rather be able to draft lasting solutions."

"What about enforcing those laws?"

"The Judiciary will consist of judges that I appoint with the Senate's approval. Rather than trials by Council, as was previously used, I want to call back to the Valyrians of old with their professional judges."

"Hmm, and will you be having different realms of laws? Like, property being local while murder is done by the central state?"

"No, I want everything centralized to Tegunil. All power needs to flow from here."

"Sounds like a lot of work for you," I mused.

"I will have a Cabinet to help me," he said, waving my comment off. "A Servant of Justice will help me with judges, etc, etc."

"Oh! That's right. What will everything be derived from? Like a King has power, and power flows from the throne to him. But with everything up in the air because of voting, how is the government going to frame itself and its power?"

Vamyx looked intrigued. "What do you mean?"

"Well, some laws you want are going to never change, right?"

"Right – like slavery."

"Exactly! So, if you lay out the structure of the government – like roles and responsibilities, that it is stopped from changing. You can also engrain the outlawing of slavery in such a document."

Vamyx scratched his chin in thought. "Hmm, I could also outline the process for changing it."

"And also, things like the certain inalienable freedoms, like the freedom of religion."

"That has been the standard for centuries in Essos, but codifying it would be good."

"The standard it may be, but we both know that in times of trouble…"

"Someone is demonized," he finished. "Very well. I like the idea. But what shall we call it?"

"The Bill of Rights?"

"The Acts of Government?" suggested Vamyx. "It would outline what acts the government could take."

"The Code of Structure?"

"The Valyrians used the word Codex, followed by the time period. But if we want it to be fairly unchanging, then something like that wouldn't work."

"Just Codex, then?"

Vamyx tapped his fingers on the desk in his office. "The Kingdom of Sarnor used to have something called the Constitutio, which outlined how a lord could be stripped of his title. As a sort of restriction on the King of Sarnor, it lasted for a really long time."

"That's an interesting bit of history. How'd you come by that?"

"The library in these chambers are surprisingly vast- made more so by the books I've claimed from the loot."

That brought me up short. When was the last time I had read something? I shivered as I felt a cold feeling creep down my spine.

"So, a Constitutio then?"

"A Constitution. A much more common sound in all the Valyrian dialects."

"Huh, well, that sounds like it'll work then."

Vamyx nodded eagerly. "I think it'll work! It's important to get the structure right on the first go since it'll be harder to change it once I have less power."

"You could just keep more power for yourself. The right to veto laws and things like that."

"I could, but Essosi at least like the pretense of having power shared among at least a few."

"Ah, but with all your fancy titles, I'm sure people won't mind."

Vamyx snorted. "Those titles are heaped on me by grateful people. But grateful doesn't mean they want to give up their newfound freedom."

I shrugged. "Grateful, eh? I happened to notice I don't have any fancy titles."

Vamyx laughed. "Of course not! The people of Essos don't treat foreigners as bad as Westeros, but we are far from perfect."

"And your story is much more captivating," I agreed.

"That too. Your lack of name recognition is just a consequence of using my story to have the slaves revolt."

I frowned exaggeratedly. "If you wanted to make it up to my poor, hurt ego, you can name your new state after me… The name Arthurland is a wonderful name."

Vamyx shook his head, laughing. "Not 'Arthur-is-the-best-land'?"

"I'm trying out this humble thing."

"Not working so well, eh?'

We shared a grin. "Seriously, though. What are you going to call it? Just Tegunil? A city-state, like your neighbors," I said.

"I think I'll put that to a vote. I have no inspiration at the moment – I'm feeling strung out."

I nodded. "I understand, I feel the same. Still, with Blackfyre dead and the Golden Company captured, the Disputed Lands are being captured by Westeros and Lys."

"Hmm, the rest of the mercenary companies will hold out for a while yet, but I don't see the war in the Disputed Lands continuing for very long – at least not in its current state."

"The letter I received from Lord Baratheon indicated the same."

"Anything in the letter that should concern me?"

"Nothing too concerning," I replied, not being entirely truthful. In truth, Lord Baratheon and the Iron Throne were incredibly concerned about the state of everything here – from what kind of man Vamyx was to if Tegunil was likely to last. Vamyx, covered in his bandages, looked far from a traditional Westerosi leader, and the King was concerned that closer relations with a doomed entity would harm relations with Lys.

"The Master of Coin is being directed to come here as he was already on his way to Tyrosh. The letter says that he will be here in a few days, depending on the weather."

Vamyx nodded thoughtfully. "I will have to prepare to receive him properly – that's what he would expect, right?"

I shrugged. "Probably. I'm from the North, so all I've heard is tales of how southerners love their fancy things. I don't know the Master of Coin at all, so it might be better to be safe than sorry."

I didn't know if King Aegon still wanted what I had been told all those moons ago, but he had my oath. I was bound to obey, but Vamyx was my friend. I had to make sure that Vamyx wouldn't be abandoned here without any help from the Iron Throne.

"A representative from Braavos will also come," I said.

"Excellent! The three of us are natural allies, so I hope we can come to an agreement to help us get settled and sorted before everyone else comes looking to take our land."

"We'll convince them," I said. "You'll see."

"I hope so, because the decisions I am making now are some of the easier ones. What will really test what we are creating, is when the feeling of euphoria wears off. When people start to look around and notice differences and things they don't like. When old hatreds come up, the whole state will strain under that weight. Something that has to last needs to be strong."

"Finding people you can trust to help you in the Senate and Conclave will be a challenge," I admitted. "I've told you stories about different governments, but I still think you should take more from Westeros. It is a stable form – a strong one. And, you are more likely to get aid from the Iron Throne if you do."

Vamyx shook his head. "It won't work. This state will already be so new and unique, that it will be a challenge to keep it together. Adding in ideas from Westeros will only add to the foreignness of it and make everything more difficult. Your social classes just won't work here. Some of your ideas have been great, and they can fit into Essos, but something just won't no matter how hard I push."

I nodded. "I know, I was just saying."

Vamyx sighed. "I know. Perhaps I ought to take a break and turn my attention to something else."

"I think I'll do the same." The cold that had settled in my spine stayed with me as I left the chambers.

How long had it been since I had read something for fun? It had never been my favorite thing to do, but I cherished those memories of my childhood. What else had changed that I hadn't noticed?

The thought sent another shiver down my spine.

Maybe it was time to visit Feng Mian, an ex-slave I had discovered one day training in the city, to go over those meditation exercises with me again. This Tie Chee, or however it was supposed to be said, was supposed to be good for helping to calm the mind.

A calm mind sounded good right about now.