20th of 11th Moon, 8023

Edgerton, South of Duskendale

He dreamed of the Sunset Sea. Its orange sunset calm and peaceful. He saw a tall boy with silver hair and a fine sword sheathed on his shoulder approaching a rope ladder, looking up to the crows nest above.

Dont He thought to himself, his mouth opening to give a shout to warn the figure, but no words came out and the figure climbed the rope ladder, the only noise being the rapidly rising wind.

The next thing he saw was the boy hanging on the crows nest, wind tearing at his clothes, but instead of the sea below him was an ocean of deep red blood.

The figure fell, and a huge dark shape shot through the wind towards him, to its doom.

Your fault

The scene faded and the cold winds slowly abated, being replaced with scorching heat.

The smell of fruit and fresh bread hung on the air like a perfume, while the clash of lance on shield resounded like a drum, outdone only by the occasional blast of a trumpet.

A small silver haired babe basked in the warm sun sat upon a young woman's lap, the remains of a pasty smeared on its chubby face, giggling and reaching for a passing butterfly.

Vaemond wanted to reach out, to take the child into his arms, to beg his forgiveness, but soon the shape faded, being replaced with a dark room with an empty crib, carved with dragons.

You weren't there

Your Grace

Your Grace….Vaemond a familiar voice called out

A firm hand on his shoulder caused the King to open his eyes, standing above his bed was Corlys Velaryon, armored in white plate, a white cloak streaming from his shoulders, Vaemond, still disturbed by his dreams, tried to remember if Corlys had the watch that night…he must have, there was little other reason for him to be armored in the middle of the night.

‘’You are armored Corlys.’’ Vaemond said groggily.

The Lord Commander nodded grimly ‘’A squadron of our outriders returned 20 minutes ago…Lord Darklyn and his bannerman Lord Harte stole a march on us in the night with all their strength…they are close, the scouts believe with their pace they will reach us a few hours after dawn.’’

‘’That is ill news….they've caught us with our trousers down.’’ Vaemond said, rising from his bed, he had a force with him numbering some 2700 men, while a smaller force of 1600 men were traveling behind him, a force which included most of his light horse.

‘’If you mean to withdraw back to Rosby, we need to move within the hour, and even then it may be for naught.’’ Corlys said.

Vaemond, dressed only in a night robe, made his way to the table which had a map of the northern crownlands, after studying it for a moment he shook his head.

‘’We will give them battle…..well be outnumbered but if word spreads that I ran from a fight, even if just to regroup with our reinforcements, it could embolden other houses…..the Starks cannot see any weakness from me….they cannot be given confidence to join this war.’’ Vaemond said.

Corlys nodded ‘’We will throw them back to Duskendale.’’

‘’We must….or this will be a short war.’’ Vaemond said.

Corlys chuckled at that.

‘’You and Lord Reddune will lead the flanks….i'll take the center….make your preparations, and see that our outriders are given a hot meal and some rest, if they had not returned….’’

Corlys nodded and left the tent.

Vaemond stretched and opened the flap of the tent, letting the cool night air wake him. The first light of dawn slowly rising over the grassy plains of Edgerton.

This will be a day of death Vaemond thought to himself.

Almost as if sensing his thoughts, his black bloodhound Balerion howled mournfully into the distance, his sound mixing with that of the waking camp.

Vaemond knelt down and scratched the hound behind its ears

‘’You sense it too.’’ He asked quietly and Balerion gave another howl as the sound of pots and kettles being brought to cookfires mixed with the sound of grizzled searjents barking orders and men sharpening spears.

The tranquil fields of Edgerton would soon see their share of blood.

Four Hours Later

Vaemond, Corlys Velaryon and Neilyn Reddune, Lord of Sunstone sat upon their destriers and looked at the host House Darklyn had brought against them.

There were 4000 of them by the scouts estimate, more than Vaemonds 2700 strong force.

The center of the enemy host was by far the largest, and had a vanguard of nearly 700 calvary, the banners of the local houses of the region fluttering in the wind upon their lances.

The yellow and black checkered flag of House Darklyn was by far the most common, but it did not stand alone. Vaemond saw the red stag of House Harte, emblazoned upon white and blue. It was joined by the three golden crowns upon pink of house Hollard, the golden antlers of House Buckwell and the peculiar blue and white spheres of House Rollingford.

Vaemond had been made aware that like him, the enemy had nearly 2000 men left behind, but even without the rest of their comrades, the host of Duskendale and all its strength was impressive. Despite the region declining in recent years due to Kings Landings emergence, one of the reasons for Duskendales defiance, one would not know of their houses' decline by looking at their host.

‘’They have put the majority of their forces in the center….you'll be outnumbered near three to one.’’ Neilyn Reddune said, the grizzled dornish lord had made his way from Sunstone to the mainland to take part in leading the campaign at Vaemonds request.

‘’So it seems…..I will hold them for as long as I can but if you don't break their flanks quickly they will overwhelm us.’’ Vaemond said calmly.

‘’Vaemond….the center will be the most dangerous part of the battle, allow me to lead it in your place, you will still win much glory on the left.’’ Corlys Velaryon offered.

‘’I will lead the center….the only thing keeping the Starks out of this war will be talk of my performance leading an army in a true battle….if I am anything less than remarkable then they may see it as their chance to join the war…my role is final…but I am relying on both of you to break their flanks before they overwhelm me.’’ Vaemond said.

Lord Reddune chuckled at that ‘’Their flanks are weak….we will cut through them like a knife through butter, keep them occupied long enough and we will come to your rescue your grace.’’

They all shared a laugh at that, all three men were experienced warriors, even Vaemond with his 21 years, and they knew that the best way to ward off the pre-battle nerves was a bit of humor in the face of the coming death.

The time for talk had passed however, and Corlys rode off to the left, his white Kingsguard cloak billowing in the wind, while the old Dornishman rode to the right.