Lady Roslin sat in the high seat, her face pale.
Before her lay several letters pleading for help.
The contents were mostly the same.
The Ironborn had turned villages into infernos, burning everything. Men were slaughtered. Women were... and then killed. Even the livestock were not spared.
Roslin's voice was very soft, but in the dead silence of the council hall it was格外 clear.
"The Ironborn have stepped onto our land."
"They are setting fire to my lands and killing my people."
"I need someone to lead the army. We do not need to fight. We only need to use our numbers to force them to leave."
Wald the maester's dry fingers twisted together.
His cloudy eyes were full of worry.
"Lady, the news from Letryce Castle confirms that the invading Ironborn number in the thousands."
"Our forces are not enough to face them in the open."
Roslin's gaze swept over the silent knights in the room.
"Then we sit here, listening to our people's wailing, smelling the burned scent of our own land?"
"I said, we do not need to fight. We only need to use the army to force them to leave and go to another lord's land."
One by one, they lowered their heads.
Their eyes avoided her, as though the cracks in the stone floor were more attractive than the lady's eyes.
Someone touched his sword hilt. Someone smoothed his collar.
No one spoke.
A fat knight stood up and spoke vaguely.
"The Ironborn are fierce. We... should hold the castle."
At once, others echoed him.
"Yes, Lady. Attacking rashly will only sacrifice our precious manpower."
"If we hold the castle, the Ironborn will leave after they have raided."
"Yes, we only need to wait."
Roslin's heart sank.
These family knights, who usually boasted of bravery, men who enjoyed the support of the lands, now looked like a flock of sheep whose hearts had been broken by wolves.
She asked again, her voice carrying a hint of cold.
"Who will go out for my house?"
The hall was still filled with suffocating silence.
At that moment, an old voice broke the awkwardness with a sigh.
"Let me go."
Everyone turned.
An old man stood up from the corner.
His hair was white.
The wrinkles on his face looked like a dried-up riverbed.
One ear did not hear well, but he stood straight.
Old Knight Ellac.
Roslin looked at him.
A flicker of gratitude passed through her eyes, then was covered by deep worry.
"Knight... you..."
Ellac raised his head and cut her off.
"Lady."
"My honor does not allow me to sit by and watch all this. Let me lead the army."
Roslin closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
When she opened them, her gaze was resolute.
"Good."
"Knight Ellac, I order you to lead my army. Remember, you only need to show our banner and force them to leave, to drive them out of our land."
Ellac knelt on one knee and pressed his right hand to his chest.
"Understood, Lady."
The wind on the plain stirred the flags of Deddington Castle.
Old Knight Ellac sat on his horse, looking at the black mass of "thousands" of Ironborn in the distance, and at the Ironborn's signature kraken flag that could be seen faintly.
The more than a thousand soldiers beside him were mostly farmers who had been swinging hoes in the fields the day before.
Ragged clothes. Faces filled with fear.
They were less an army than a herd of driven beasts.
They gripped their spears tightly. Their palms were sweaty.
The fear on their faces was even heavier than the "enemy" across from them.
"Blow the horn!" Ellac shouted.
He tried to follow Lady Roslin's order. Show the size of his army. Use numbers to force the other side to go to another lord's land.
A long, slightly off-key horn sound rose across the plain.
But the response was not the enemy retreating.
Instead, a beast-like howl suddenly erupted from the other column.
A black torrent surged out from the distant column and rushed forward.
These were true Ironborn.
Round shield in one hand, battle axe in the other.
Their faces carried bloodthirsty, wild smiles.
Ellac roared, his voice tearing.
"Steady! Hold the line!"
"Orderly retreat!"
But his old voice was instantly swallowed by screams and shouts of panic.
The Ironborn were already too close.
The farmers' world collapsed at once.
They had heard of the Ironborn's cruelty in stories.
No one followed the old knight's order.
Some turned and ran from the column.
The formation shattered.
On the right side of the battlefield, Lu Shen watched calmly.
From the moment the Ironborn charged, the column had inexplicably started to scatter and flee.
The four hundred new commoners behind him, the "paper soldiers," also began to stir.
His heart sank to the bottom.
But Lord Solomon's teaching echoed in his ear.
Lu Shen did not hesitate.
He turned to the "paper soldiers."
"Run!"
"Keep formation! Run hard! No chaos!"
"Run fast!"
This order was like heaven's sound.
The four hundred "paper soldiers" immediately turned and, in a trained manner, began to retreat backward in an orderly run.
Their movements were so fast and decisive that the Deddington soldiers beside them, who had not yet moved, paused in surprise.
Then they started to turn and follow.
As the two columns met the enemy, more and more people fled.
Spears were thrown on the ground.
People scattered like headless flies.
Ellac's eyes turned red.
He saw an Ironborn cut down his flag-bearer and now trample his family banner with his foot.
Honor and rage burned through his reason.
He roared and charged forward on his horse.
Several flying axes spun through the air and precisely embedded themselves in his chest and neck.
The old knight's body shook violently and he fell from his horse.
The last thing he saw was countless dirty boots and battle axes raised high.
On the retreat, Lu Shen kept his column in order while forcing himself to learn from Lord Solomon and observe the battlefield.
He quickly noticed a strange phenomenon.
The Ironborn pursuing them were fierce in attack, but their numbers were not large.
At most a few hundred men.
Most of the people in the distant column did not move at all.
Lu Shen had succeeded.
Because he had been the first to run, he not only brought back his own intact four hundred men, but also gathered more than two hundred scattered Deddington soldiers.
As the great gates of Deddington Castle slowly closed, the six-hundred-plus column became the last armed force of this castle.
Outside the castle, Rodrik Greyjoy drove the thousands of refugees, a black mass waiting far beyond the view of Deddington Castle.
He spat and his face was full of scorn.
"Just like that woman at Letryce Castle! I heard the current master of this castle is also a woman!"
"In less than half a day, she will open the gate and run!"
Borlon narrowed his eyes and studied the wall.
A bunch of fools.
He could not even describe how weak and useless these fools were.
Time passed.
The castle did not move.
Rodrik Greyjoy frowned and stepped closer to observe.
On the wall, rows of archers were already in position.
A figure appeared in the center of the tower.
She wore armor, and her posture was incredibly firm.
The smile on Rodrik's face froze.
He had not expected that this castle's woman would be even harder than the men of the Riverlands.
He had no siege equipment.
He did not have as many soldiers as in the lie.
A strong attack on this strong city would only bring heavy losses.
Rodrik turned and bit his teeth viciously.
"Retreat!"
"If they won't come out, we continue raiding!"
Night fell.
On the wall.
Lu Shen reported his observations from the day to Lady Roslin.
"I saw it, Lady."
"The enemy's true numbers may not be large."
Though they felt this might be Lu Shen trying to comfort them, it still made Lady Roslin and Maester Wald's tight nerves relax a little.
Roslin turned and said sincerely, "Thank you and your soldiers for choosing to stay."
When the army was defeated, the bannermen's forces did not flee.
No matter their low status, they were worthy of her thanks.
Lu Shen awkwardly scratched his head.
He felt he was the first to lead the run, and he ran directly with four hundred men.
He bore irresponsibility for the large-scale rout, since a large part of the four hundred men standing in formation had suddenly started to run as a unit.
Roslin walked to the wall and looked out at the black mass outside.
She turned, her eyes calm again.
"Maester."
"Send a crow."
"To Riverrun."
"To my house's bannermen."
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