After bidding farewell to Aldric, Kevin led his ten Sunwalker brothers under the guidance of Thoros of Myr toward the hidden heart of Beric Dondarrion's campaign.
Their journey first took them to the western shore of the Gods Eye, near the site where Aldric and the Lightning Lord had struck their bargain. Beside a massive gray boulder stood a cramped lean-to of pine branches. Outside, the charred remains of a campfire sat cold, a heavy iron pot dangling from a tripod.
Thoros dismounted, kneeling to sift the gray ash through his fingers. "Bone dry," he muttered, looking back at Kevin. "They haven't been gone long. We wait here."
Kevin settled his gear, leaning his spear against a tree. "Is this one of your outposts?"
"A relay," Thoros replied. "Beric and I agreed that a shadow would be left here to guide me back. Beric's movements are as erratic as summer lightning; if he didn't leave a trail, even I would lose him. It's the only reason the Mountain hasn't crushed us yet."
A few hours later, a youth in a rough brown tunic emerged from the treeline, hauling a bundle of dry wood. He froze for a moment, then recognized the red priest. "Thoros! You're finished with the Sun-Seeker?"
"I am," Thoros said, gesturing to the armored men behind him. "And I've brought friends. These are the Sunwalkers of the Golden Dawn. Per the pact, they are our brothers now."
The youth, a scout named Polk, dropped his wood with a grin. "The Brotherhood can always use more steel. Though," he glanced at the lake, "I've been sitting in this damp rot so long I fear my breeches are growing moss. Let's move."
Polk led them east, tracking a series of hidden marks left by Beric's vanguard. Their destination was Fisher's Keep.
Fisher's Keep belonged to a knightly house sworn to the Whents of Harrenhal. House Whent had once been among the wealthiest and most powerful in the Trident, but the "Curse of Harrenhal" had hollowed them out. Since the Great Tourney where Prince Rhaegar had crowned Lyanna Stark the Queen of Love and Beauty, the Whents had spiraled into decline. Lady Whent had yielded the castle to the Lannisters at the start of the war and vanished, leaving her vassals to fend for themselves.
House Fisher had answered Edmure Tully's call to arms, marching to Riverrun with the bulk of their strength. They hadn't been heard from since. In their absence, a band of deserters and sellswords—remnants of the shattered armies roaming the Riverlands—had seized the keep, turning the knightly manor into a bandit's nest.
Beric Dondarrion had resolved to root them out, both to protect the remaining smallfolk and to secure the keep's granaries for the Brotherhood.
Kevin and his men finally reached the hidden camp in the woods outside the keep. Beric and Thoros shared a brief, solemn embrace before the priest introduced his charge.
"This is Kevin Turner," Thoros said. "Aldric's first acolyte. A Sunwalker and a son of the Five Fingers."
Beric took Kevin's hand in a dry, firm grip. "I am grateful for your presence, Kevin. The Golden Dawn's generosity will not be forgotten."
"Lord Beric," Kevin replied, matching the nobleman's intensity. "My master holds your cause in high regard. We are not guests here; we are soldiers of the Brotherhood. Do not hesitate to put us in the vanguard."
Beric smiled thinly, gesturing for a man in a yellow cloak to show the Sunwalkers to a section of the camp. Once they were settled, Thoros drew Beric aside. "What is the state of the siege, my Lord?"
Beric looked toward the distant silhouette of the keep. "Not good. The men inside are no common cutthroats. They are veterans, thirty strong, and they've fortified the walls. If we storm the gates, the cost will be high."
"Can we draw them out?" Thoros asked.
"They won't budge," Beric said. "My scout, Meryn, climbed a sentinel tree; their stores are full of Fisher grain. They know we're here, and they're content to wait. I've sent word for reinforcements, but it could be days."
Thoros glanced at Kevin's group. "The Sunwalkers carry a grace, Beric. Unless they take a blow to the brain, they can mend themselves. If we put them at the front of the ladders, we could take the wall with minimal loss."
Beric frowned, shaking his head. "They joined us mere hours ago. If I use the new blood as a shield, what does that say of my honor? No. If someone is to lead the charge, it will be me. At least I can be brought back."
"You cannot keep dying, Beric," Thoros snapped. "R'hllor's favor is not a toy. Your life belongs to the cause, not just yourself." He paused. "Kevin is more than a soldier. He was raised by a knightly house and trained by the Lightbringer himself. Let us hear his mind."
Beric conceded, and the two leaders summoned Kevin.
The youth didn't answer immediately. He remembered Aldric's lessons—the wisdom of the "Solar Strategist" from his homeland. Know yourself and know your enemy, and a hundred battles will bring no peril.
"I cannot offer a plan until I see the ground with my own eyes, Lord Beric," Kevin said. "A commander who fights without sight is merely a butcher."
Beric nodded, pleased by the boy's prudence. He personally led Kevin and Thoros to a vantage point four miles from the camp, where they climbed a massive oak to survey Fisher's Keep.
From the heights, Kevin mapped the objective. The keep sat atop a steep earthen mound, its walls a sturdy palisade of interlocking logs. The main castle was a stone blockhouse on the highest point, looming over the stables and barracks.
"The front and sides are the only clear approaches," Beric explained, sketching a circle in the dirt once they descended. "The rear is a sheer drop. Our ladders won't reach. We could try ropes, but if they have even one man on the battlement, he can cut the line and send us to the Stranger."
Kevin rubbed the faint stubble on his chin, a habit he'd picked up from Aldric. "So, a frontal assault is what the enemy expects."
"It is the only way," Beric said. "But the casualties... Thoros tells me your men might be the key."
"Allow me to speak with my brothers first," Kevin said. "I will give you my answer before the moon rises."
Back at the Sunwalker tents, Kevin gathered the ten. He laid out the map and the enemy's strength. "What do you think?"
"Did Beric name a time?" asked Roger Hughes. The former hedge knight had a keen eye for these matters.
"He hasn't decided," Kevin said. "If he waits for more men, it will have to be a daylight assault to coordinate the numbers. But the longer we wait, the more likely the prisoners inside are to suffer."
Roger frowned. "If we move now, the eleven of us can handle the wall. We don't need a hundred men if we have the Grace. We just need to be smart about it."
"If we plate our mail thick and pack our helms with wool," added Harold, another Sunwalker, "we can take the blunt force. As long as we aren't knocked cold, we can keep each other standing."
Kevin pointed to the rear of the keep. "We won't just hit the front. We split. Two men to a ladder at the sides. Let Beric's bravest lead, and we stay a step behind them, pouring the Light into their backs to keep them moving. They'll be the hammer, we'll be the bellows."
"And the sheer drop at the back?" Roger asked.
"That's for us," Kevin said, his voice hardening. "We need a climbing party. While the front is a chaos of screaming and fire, two Sunwalkers scale the rear using iron-shod grapples. If the ropes are wrapped in wet leather, they won't burn or cut easily. Once we're over the top, we open the side postern. The enemy will be caught between the fire and the forge."
Kevin looked at his brothers. "The lead climbers need the strongest wills. They'll be taking stones and arrows to the face as they climb. Who's with me?"
Roger and Harold exchanged a grim, determined look. "We're with you, Commander," Roger said. "Let's take this keep."
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