The noise along the Kingsroad slowly faded.
In its place came the heavy footsteps of soldiers clearing the battlefield and the groans of the wounded.
The thick smell of blood hung in the air, almost enough to make a man sick.
The surviving Northern soldiers worked as they cleaned the battlefield, yet their eyes constantly drifted toward Galon standing in the center of the field.
"Lord Galon... is incredible!"
"He killed the enemy commander by himself. That was Victarion, the commander of the Iron Fleet!"
"Exactly. I thought the Bearslayer was just lucky before... I didn't expect his martial strength to match his strategy. No wonder Lady Sansa favors him!"
"We would have been finished without Lord Galon."
Small groups of soldiers whispered among themselves, their faces filled with excitement and admiration.
Not only the soldiers, but even the great bannermen such as the Manderlys, the Hornwoods, and the Umbers now viewed Galon with entirely new respect.
Before the battle, many of them had secretly underestimated him because of his youth.
Now their attitude had changed completely.
Even Ramsay himself felt a faint sense of respect toward Galon.
"Lord Galon, what should we do next?"
Ron Glover, who had fought beside him in the battle, walked over while catching his breath.
Galon noticed the dried blood and dust covering him.
"Are you injured?" Galon asked.
Ron glanced at his left arm and grinned excitedly.
"Nothing serious. Just got grazed by a hand axe during the pursuit. Only a scratch."
"Take care of it," Galon said. "Don't let the wound get infected."
Then he returned to the matter at hand.
"Send men to count the casualties. Separate our fallen from the Ironborn."
Galon looked over the battlefield littered with corpses and continued issuing clear orders.
"Burn the Ironborn bodies together to prevent disease."
"Our soldiers should be gathered carefully. Let their families or their lords come to claim them. If necessary, send them back to their homes for burial."
He paused before adding another command.
"Also have Mihawk take three hundred men to search for Jon. Tell him to be cautious."
Ron nodded and left to carry out the orders.
A moment later, Darren, the captain of the Hornwood guard, approached.
"Lord Galon," he said respectfully. "What should we do with the prisoners?"
Galon considered briefly.
"Keep them guarded for now. Later they will be sent to Winterfell for judgment."
Darren smiled.
"Understood."
Then he asked another question.
"Should we pursue the remaining Ironborn? I would be honored to lead the vanguard."
After such a decisive victory, Darren knew the Hornwood lady would surely reward him when he returned.
Since Hornwood was now ruled by the lady of the house, Darren hoped to prove his worth.
Leading the pursuit would be a perfect opportunity.
Galon caught the hidden meaning immediately.
He smiled faintly.
"No need to rush. The remaining Ironborn are already broken, and our own losses are heavy."
"It is better to proceed carefully."
He gestured toward the nearby hills.
"Take your men and cut down some trees. Once the Ironborn bodies are gathered together, burn them all."
Darren could not hide his disappointment, but he obeyed and left.
Galon watched him go while another thought crossed his mind. He remembered Lawrence Snow, the foster son raised by his father.
'Lord Hornwood and his heir both died in the Riverlands. The current Lady Hornwood can no longer have children.'
'It is time to place Lawrence as the heir to Hornwood.'
Galon smiled quietly to himself.
'If Darren supports Lawrence's claim, things will become much easier.'
Once Lawrence became the heir of Hornwood, Galon would effectively gain a loyal ally in the eastern North.
And if the Boltons ever moved against him, Hornwood could provide early warning.
Having made up his mind, Galon resumed inspecting the battlefield to ensure nothing unexpected occurred.
About an hour later, the initial casualty report arrived.
The Northern army had lost more than a thousand men...Over three quarters of them were soldiers from House Bolton.
The Ironborn losses were even more devastating.
Victarion Greyjoy's death had shattered their morale.
During the pursuit, more than fifteen hundred Ironborn had been killed, and around two hundred captured.
Only three or four hundred survivors had escaped.
"My lord, this is a tremendous victory!" Ron said excitedly when he returned.
"After this battle, the remaining Ironborn in the North are no longer a threat. We can drive them out whenever we wish."
Galon smiled slightly, but a thoughtful look passed through his eyes.
"How is Ramsay Snow?"
Ron replied, "Lord Ramsay suffered a few minor wounds and is resting in the rear. His mood does not seem very good."
Galon nodded slowly.
"Of the thousand Bolton soldiers, only a little over two hundred survived. Of course he is not pleased."
"But since Ramsay managed to survive the battle, we will let him live for now... It is not yet time to deal with him."
Galon thought for a moment before giving Ron another order.
"Send Shanks with a cavalry squad back to Winterfell as quickly as possible. They will report to Lady Sansa, young Bran, and Maester Luwin.
Tell them that we have won a great victory at Bullhorn Mountain.
Victarion Greyjoy is dead. Euron has fled. The main Ironborn force has been destroyed.
Our losses are heavy, but morale remains high. A full report will follow."
"Yes, my lord," Ron answered.
Galon watched him leave and continued thinking quietly. 'With this victory, Winterfell should finally be stable.'
'That means I will have far greater influence in the North.'
'And once events unfold in the south, the North will inevitably follow my leadership.'
A sharp light flashed in his eyes as he imagined leading his armies southward.
'The next step is figuring out how to use Asha to obtain the Dragon Horn.'
While Galon was deep in thought, a familiar voice called out behind him.
"Lord Galon!"
He turned to see Mihawk approaching with Jon and a group of soldiers, all covered in blood and dirt.
Galon quickly walked toward them.
"Jon, I'm glad you're safe."
Jon forced a smile but looked somewhat embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Lord Galon...I tried my best to stop him, but Euron still escaped."
Galon clapped him on the shoulder.
"That was never your main task."
"You were supposed to block Crow's Eye and protect our flank."
"If he escaped, so be it. One day we will kill him and avenge the North."
Seeing Jon still disappointed, Galon smiled reassuringly. "You already accomplished a great feat by holding him back."
"When we return to Winterfell, I will personally report your merit."
"I'm sure Lord Stark will be pleased."
Jon's face flushed red with excitement.
Fortunately the blood covering his face hid the reaction.
Otherwise Galon would surely have teased him.
After checking on the soldiers behind Jon and giving them a few instructions, Galon sent them away to receive treatment.
Then he continued overseeing the battlefield cleanup.
Soon large fires were lit along the Kingsroad.
The smell of burning bodies spread across Bullhorn Mountain.
Once all the Ironborn corpses had been burned, Galon finally led his exhausted army back to the northern entrance of the pass.
He planned to rest there for several days.
Messengers were sent to inform Tallhart at Torrhen's Square and the Dustins of Barrowlands to watch for any fleeing Ironborn.
In three days, the army would march toward Moat Cailin.
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