20th of 8th Moon, 8023

Marshland of the Whispers

‘’No doubt theyre holed up at the Whispers.’’ Ser Theonald said as King Vaemond and his retinue looked into the marsh.

‘’The Whispers?’’ Vaemond asked with confusion, he had thought the name referred to the region House Crabb not a specific location.

‘’An old castle….it were the seat of Ser Clarence Crabb….its been abandoned near 1000 years….once their scouts caught wind o’yer advance they fled their siege camp and ran into the marsh.’’ The clawman hedge knight said, flashing a crooked smile.

Vaemond nodded and looked into the marsh, which did not look terribly inviting.

When the King and the forces from Dragonstone had arrived at Dyre Den there had been a raven waiting for him, detailing the uprising on Sunstone. Vaemond had then sent word to Nestor Royce, who was leading the levy of Duskendale to sail to Sunstone to fight the pirates rather than reinforce the campaign against the rebels of Cracklaw Barren.

As it would turn out Lord Royces men would not even be needed. Lord Fredder Brune, son of the Late Lord Alyn Brune who had been one of King Aegon's loyal followers, had raised some 2200 men to join with Vaemonds force to crush the rebels, who were apparently hiding in the abandoned castle, with the exception of a small force of raiders.

The rebels had managed to get their hands on some horses and while advancing to the Whispers, Vaemond had heard tell of near 100 rebel horsemen riding around the point stealing from small hamlets, burning crops and otherwise making a nuisance of themselves. Vaemond had dispatched Corlys Velaryon with a force of 80 freeriders and 10 knights, both from Dragonstone and Dyre Den to deal with them, though that left him with only two Kinsguard.

‘’We will have a hard time of it getting through the marsh….but we press onwards…on foot I think, horses won't do us much good.’’ Vaemond mused and Ser Theoden nodded.

With Vaemond and his two Kingsguard at the front, the combined force of some 3700 men made their way into the marsh on foot, much to the dismay of many of the knights of the company.

Three Hours Later

Vaemonds prediction that it would be hard going was an accurate one. It took them three hours to make it through the swampland, and while the distance traveled had not been great it had been a difficult crossing.

Spirits had been high during the first hour of the voyage, with many a joke being exchanged throughout the column, while Ser Harold Langward had even attempted to compose a ballad of their march, though he spent much of the march muttering to himself trying to find a rhyme for the whispers.

After the second hour however the jokes had gradually faded as men concentrated on their footing, following the route of the men in front of them and even Vaemond had to cede his position at the front of the column to let Lord Brunes scouts lead them through the uneven ground.

Not long after that the smell of the narrow sea hit them, along with the overwhelming scent of pine trees and sickly sweet flowers of the marsh. It seemed to grow darker and even Vaemond had to admit it felt like they were being watched.

‘’This is an ancient land.’’ Vaemond had remarked to Ser Roland Crakehall, who had spent much of the march quietly reciting prayers to the warrior.

They heard it before they saw it.

A harsh whispering noise, high pitched and constant.

‘’Were close your Grace.’’ Ser Theonald said when the ghostly noise became apparent.

‘’What is that sound.’’ Vaemond asked.

‘’The winds of the narrow sea running through the abandoned castle….or if you listen to the local Clawmen its the sound of Clarence Crabbs ghost, wandering his seat and whistling a ballad.’’ The young hedge knight responded.

‘’You are not a Clawman?’’ Vaemond asked.

The man shook his head ‘’My father Harlon commanded the Wolf's Den in White Harbor in the time of your father…..after Ser Warrick Manderly and his father butchered your fathers retinue my father resigned from his post in disgust and came here, he served Lord Alyn Brune as a hedge knight…and his son inherited me.’’

‘’Small world.’’ Vaemond had remarked, but there had been no further talk after that as the unsettling sound continued.

It wasn't long until the narrow sea came into view, vast and open. The ruined castle of the Whispers lay in ruins along a cliff, pine trees and moss overgrowing and growing on the old lichen covered stone. There was also a Weirwood tree, bark as white as snow growing in the center of the rubble.

The castle may have been abandoned for a thousand years but it was not abandoned now. Hundreds of men occupied what was left of the old castle, archers had found positions in half collapsed towers while peasants wielding a collection of pitchforks, spears and axes had formed a line in front of the ruins, prepared to make their stand.

Vaemond walked forward slightly and stopped just on the edge of arrow range.

‘’I HAVE NO WISH TO FIGHT ANYONE OF YOU….BUT A FIGHT IS COMING…ONE YOU HAVE NO CHANCE OF WINNING…ANY MAN THAT WANTS TO LEAVE MAY DO SO, TAKE WHATEVER MAKESHIFT WEAPONS YOU HAVE AND LEAVE THIS PLACE.’’ Vaemond shouted, though he was not sure how much of his message carried over the insistent whispering of the wind but he would make an attempt to negotiate nonetheless.

A few of the defenders exchanged uncertain looks but a loud voice cut through the wind like hot steel on butter, threatening that any man that ran would get an arrow in his back, which put an end to most of the discussion Vaemond could not determine where the voice was coming from but he guessed it had to have been their leader.

When it became clear he would not be able to dislodge them from their positions through diplomacy, the young King was forced to admit that the rebellion could only be put down through force of arms.

Vaemond drew Blackfyre and raised it above his head, the clawmen trumpeter of Lord Brune signaling a charge, the Battle of the Whispers had begun.

The vanguard was led by Ser Theonald, consisting of well over 150 dismounted knights, who faced fire by the archers in the towers, though it was irregular and poorly organized, the peasants' inexperience in warfare showing.

Vaemond led the left flank personally, his two Kinsguard close behind him as they charged the ruins, while Vaemond sent a small force of 40 men at arms to try and sneak around the castle and take the defenders in the rear in the confusion of the main charge.

It was then that the rebels played their trick.

The clawmen scouts had become aware of the fact that the Targaryen host would be coming to them dismounted and had somehow managed to get near 200 horses through the marsh, no doubt expecting that the Targaryens had assumed that their 100 raiders made up the extent of their calvary forces.

It was a surprise to be sure when near 200 light horsemen came thundering out of the ruins but Vaemond reacted quickly and managed to form a shield wall before the riders were upon them.

A rider in a leather jerkin carrying a spear and a dented wooden shield was the first to make contact with the line, but Vaemond, wielding Blackfyre in two hands, slashed at the man's horse, hitting it square in the neck.

The horse collapsed with a horrible noise, sending the man tumbling to the ground.

The man shared a similar fate to his horse as before he could get up Vaemond slashed Blackfyre across his neck, sending a spray of blood everywhere.

Beside him his Kinsguard delivered red ruin all around him, Ser Harold Langwards sword flashed side to side, while Ser Roland Crakehalls two handed axe struck down man after man from their horse.

The rebels may have procured a large amount of horses but that did not make them warriors and when it was clear that they had not surprised their enemies to a decisive degree they began to flee, leaving nearly three dozen of their comrades dead.

Vaemond spared a glance to the center and saw that the knights had gained the walls of the ruins and were pushing the rebels to the sea, causing even more rebels to flee.

Out of the corner of his eye he glimpsed a flash of movement and saw a band of dismounted rebels that had managed to ambush a Brune man-at-arms, hacking him to death before fleeing into the nearby swamps.

‘’There!’’ Vaemond cried out to his Kingsguard, pointing Blackfyre at the men and without even looking behind him ran after them.

Upon seeing him they fled and Vaemond followed them, pushing a branch out of the way as he waded through the muck.

‘’Your Grace.’’ A voice behind him called out faintly, no doubt one of his Kingsguard, but in his haste Vaemond did not notice it came from far behind him.

This is foolish Vaemond thought to himself as he made his way through the swamp, but even with the thought at the back of his mind he pressed on, he would not let them get away, given that they had been calvary there was a chance one of them was the rebel leader himself.

Suddenly they were around him, four of them armed with a collection of weapons, slowly forming a circle around him, closing in.

Vaemond was not overly concerned and was about to call for Ser Harold and Ser Roland to form a line with him but then he suddenly realized they were nowhere to be seen.

With a curse he realized that he must have outpaced his Kingsguard in all his weaving and turning through the swamp, he wouldn't be able to rely on their help.

‘’Whas a Dragon like you doin all alone in the swamps eh?’’ A rebel in a torn jerkin carrying a rusty dirk said, slowly advancing.

‘’That's a fine sword you got there boy.’’ Another dressed in sheepskin said, raising his hatchet.

‘’You can't take us all on…..we have you four to one.’’ An older one with a broken nose said, wooden club in hand.

‘’Perhaps not….but I won't be the only one to fall.’’ Vaemond said, holding Blackfyre out in front of him.

The last one, armed with an ax and shield, who appeared to be their leader nodded ‘’Finish him.’’

Afterwards Vaemond could not say how he had done it, he had never been a skilled fighter but it was as if someone else had taken control, for in those moments his footwork was without any errors and his senses were enhanced.

The leader, leading the way, raised his ax and brought it down towards Vaemond, who quickly turned to his side and slammed into the man with a shoulder, knocking him into the muck before the strike could land.

The one with the hatchet had advanced from behind and hacked his axe at the back of Vaemonds neck, hitting his black plate gorget with a loud clang and sending him stumbling forward, unbalanced but otherwise unharmed.

The King somehow kept his balance and slashed backwards, wheeling around, catching the man in one of his fingers.

Howling with pain the man launched a wild attack but Vaemond lunged forward under the strike, getting behind the man before hacking him in the back with a sickening crunch. The man grunted and fell face first.

The leader, back on his feet launched an attack but Vaemond turned the strike away with the clash of steel on steel, launching his own thrust at the man's stomach with all his might, though the man got his shield up just in time though the force of the blow sent him backwards.

With the most dangerous of the men temporarily dealt with, Vaemond turned to the man with the knife who had been hesitantly hovering on the outskirts of the melee.

The man slashed the rusty dirk forward and Vaemond somehow managed to catch the man's arm with one of his hands with an iron grip before he fell forward with Blackfyre in front of him, impaling the man on the ground through the stomach.

The one with the broken nose ran forward with a wordless cry and brought down the wooden club towards Vaemond, who rolled out of the way and shot out a leg, tripping the man.

Vaemond managed to get to his feet and walked over to the man bringing Blackfyre up in the air and bringing the Valyrian Steel straight down into the man's chest with a grunt, the man's legs convulsing wildly.

It was just Vaemond and the leader now, the King was finally beginning to feel the effects of the fight, the back of his neck aching where he had been struck by the man in the sheepskin while his legs felt like cement due to the weight of his plate armor.

He forced himself to remain focused as the leader launched an upwards strike with his ax at Vaemonds neck, who knocked it away with Blackfyre.

The King's foe had an emotionless expression on his face, forehead beaded in sweat, both men knew the stakes.

Vaemond ducked behind a tree as the man wildly hacked forward, the axe hitting the pine tree in an explosion of sap and splinters.

The rebel clawman withdrew it quickly and continued the attack but Vaemond hit the man's strike, sending a clamor down the man's arm and forcing him back.

The King chose that moment to strike, hacking downwards at the man's shoulder, nearly shearing the entire arm off at the shoulder blade.

The man screamed and fell to the ground, blood gushing everywhere.

Vaemond looked at the man before slowly walking off, leaving the man to bleed out in peace.

A feeling of utter exhaustion hit the King then and he felt as if he could not take another step.

He sat down, leaning against the tree, the bodies of the four men around him.

It was there that his Kingsguard found him, exhausted and tired.

‘’The day is ours your Grace…..songs will be sung of your valor.’’ Ser Harold Langward had said.

Vaemond had been quiet at that for a moment, his eyes trained on the four bodies in the swamp before shaking his head ‘’There's no glory in killing your own subjects.’’

The battle of the Whispers would be a decisive victory, with the Targaryens and their Brune allies losing under 200 men, while the rebels would lose near 1400 men, though their leader Sherrion would escape the battle, never to be seen again.

Corlys Velaryon would also bring the 100 raiders prowling the countryside to heel, at the cost of 22 free riders and 3 knights. Following this defeat the surviving rebels would melt back into the countryside, where Vaemond did not attempt to pursue them. The conflict was over.

Meanwhile, on Sunstone, Lord Nestor Royce would put down the pirate rebellion with the levies of Duskendale, albeit in a much less glorious fashion, the pirates would ambush the forces of Lord Royce and Lord Myles Rowan from the mountains of the island and very nearly succeed in driving him back but the levies of Duskendale, while not performing particularly well would do just enough to hold their ground.

Following this, the Lysene pirate would be banished to the Night's Watch, and the pirates that survived the battle would realize Sunstone was lost to them and flee to other islands, leaving both Bloodstone and Sunstone free of the rats of the sea.