Chapter 21: The Kraken's Coils and the Wolf's Enduring Hunt (Ironborn War: Part 2)
The initial, brutal engagements had sent a shockwave through Dagon Greyjoy's Ironborn armada. The swift, merciless response of the Volmark fleet, appearing as if from the mists with superior ships and disciplined ferocity, had shattered their expectations of easy plunder. Bear Island, though bloodied, had not fallen. The northern Stony Shore had seen reaving parties cut down before they could make significant gains. Several dozen longships now lay shattered on the seabed or had been captured, their crews slain or taken prisoner (Aelyx's forces took few Ironborn prisoners alive, their reputation for brutality preceding them; those captured were destined for Skagos's deepest, most secure labor mines, far from any prying eyes).
But Dagon Greyjoy, the self-styled Kraken King, was a creature of salt and iron, his ambition as vast and unforgiving as the sea itself. He was enraged, not broken. From his flagship, the formidable Sea Scourge, he rallied his scattered forces in the hidden coves of the westernmost isles, his reaver captains still numerous, their lust for blood and gold merely whetted by the taste of resistance.
Lyra Volmark's greensight, a constant, shimmering thread in Aelyx's mind, revealed the Kraken King's shift in strategy. "He avoids direct fleet engagement now, Father," she reported from her scrying chamber in Mount Skatus, her voice a low hum. "He has divided his remaining strength – perhaps a hundred and fifty longships – into smaller, faster squadrons. They seek softer targets, striking like vipers at undefended fishing villages further south along the Stony Shore, even probing towards the mouth of the Saltspear. They hope to outrun our heavier warships, to bleed the coast with a thousand small cuts, to draw our fleet thin and then overwhelm isolated patrols."
Aelyx, aboard the Leviathan which now served as a mobile command center patrolling a central sector of the contested waters, absorbed this intelligence with a grim nod. The Ironborn were adaptable, their reaving tactics honed over centuries. A war of attrition through dispersed raids was a classic Ironborn approach.
"A predictable, yet still dangerous, strategy," Aelyx mused to Lyanna, who was psychically linked with him across the distance to Skagos, her own strategic insights often providing a valuable counterpoint. "He underestimates our reach, our speed of communication, and the adaptability of our children."
He immediately adjusted his own deployments. "Visenya," his mental command reached his daughter aboard the Sea Drake, "your Stormbringers are swift. Divide your squadron into three hunter-killer groups. Your task is to sweep the northern Stony Shore. Use Lyra's guidance. Find these viper fleets, crush them before they can strike, or cut them off as they retreat. Speed and overwhelming firepower are your allies."
To Maegor, whose Ironclads were better suited for heavier engagements, he instructed, "Maintain a strong presence around the approaches to Sea Dragon Point and the larger coastal settlements. Dagon may feign dispersal only to concentrate for a more significant blow if he sees an opportunity. Be our anvil, Maegor, while Visenya acts as the hammer."
The war entered a new, grueling phase. It became a deadly game of cat-and-mouse played out across hundreds of miles of rugged coastline, under skies that grew increasingly grey and stormy as winter approached. The Volmark fleet, guided by Lyra's almost infallible precognition and Aelyx's strategic genius, became the bane of the Ironborn.
Visenya, her Valyrian blood singing with the thrill of the hunt, proved devastatingly effective. Her three smaller squadrons, each led by a swift galleass and supported by dromonds, moved like packs of sea wolves. Time and again, they would appear as if from nowhere, guided by coordinates whispered into Visenya's mind by Lyra, falling upon unsuspecting Ironborn raiding parties as they beached their longships or were in the process of looting a village. The engagements were often short, brutal, and utterly one-sided. Visenya's use of subtle magic became more refined; a sudden, localized squall that would capsize a longship as it tried to flee, a volley of fire arrows that seemed to burn with unnatural intensity, a disorienting shimmer in the air around an enemy vessel just before her marines boarded – all attributed to the unpredictable Skagosi weather or the reavers' own superstitions. Her reputation among the surviving Ironborn grew fearsome; they began to speak of the 'Ice Witch of Skagos,' her silver-gold hair a harbinger of doom.
Maegor, meanwhile, chafed slightly at his more defensive role but obeyed his father's commands with a grudging discipline. His Ironclads became a floating wall of Northern defiance. When a particularly bold Ironborn captain, Grimfang, leading a force of twenty longships, attempted a daring raid on a larger fortified town near the mouth of a river, hoping to sack it before Volmark forces could react, Maegor was ready. Lyra's warning had come hours before. Maegor, feigning a wider patrol, had laid a trap, his ships hidden behind a series of coastal islands. As Grimfang's fleet sailed confidently into the estuary, the Ironclads emerged, blocking their retreat. The battle was a brutal melee. Maegor, true to form, rammed the Skullram deep into Grimfang's own flagship, leading a boarding party himself, his greatsword 'Ragesnarl' reaping a bloody harvest. He dueled Grimfang on the slick, blood-soaked deck, the Ironborn captain a giant of a man armed with a fearsome black axe. Maegor, his strength subtly augmented by his innate magic, fought like a man possessed, finally cleaving Grimfang's axe arm from his shoulder and sending the Reaver captain screaming into the sea. The remaining Ironborn ships, witnessing their leader's fall, broke and fled, only to be harried and sunk by Maegor's pursuing vessels.
The Northern land defenses, bolstered by Torrhen Volmark's liaison work from a temporary command post at a western Stark castle, also began to play a more significant role. Lord Mormont's warriors, forewarned by Volmark intelligence, ambushed several landing parties on Bear Island. Further south, Lord Glover's men, supported by a detachment of Manderly spearmen, successfully defended a key coastal town, their archers picking off reavers as Volmark ships shelled the Ironborn longships attempting to provide covering fire. Torrhen Volmark, though not a frontline commander in this phase, proved invaluable in coordinating these disparate Northern efforts, ensuring that supplies reached beleaguered holdfasts and that intelligence flowed efficiently between the land forces and his father's fleet.
Aelyx, from the Leviathan, orchestrated the entire campaign with the cold precision of a master conductor. His true advantage lay not just in superior ships or weaponry, but in the flawless, instantaneous intelligence provided by Lyra's greensight. He knew where Dagon Greyjoy's squadrons were, where they intended to strike, often before the Ironborn captains themselves received their final orders. This allowed him to concentrate his forces at critical points, to achieve local superiority, and to inflict maximum damage while minimizing his own losses. He also began a subtle campaign of psychological warfare. Captured Ironborn (the very few who were not executed by enraged Northmen or vengeful Skagosi) were occasionally allowed to "escape" after witnessing the full, terrifying efficiency of a Volmark warship or hearing tales of the "Ice Witch" and the "Skagosi Berserker Prince." These "escapees" carried back tales of Skagosi power that began to gnaw at Ironborn morale.
However, the war was not without its costs. Some Ironborn raids, driven by desperation or sheer luck, slipped through the net. Small, isolated fishing villages, too remote for immediate aid, were still pillaged and burned. The wails of bereaved women and the sight of orphaned children became a grim reality along stretches of the Stony Shore. Aelyx, while regretful of these civilian casualties (as they represented a loss of potential future Skagosi citizens and damaged the North's stability), viewed them as an unavoidable consequence of war. He ensured that his fleet prioritized the rescue of captives whenever possible, and Skagosi ships often arrived laden not just with grim-faced warriors but also with healers and supplies for the ravaged communities. This "benevolence," heavily publicized by his agents, further enhanced House Volmark's standing among the common folk of the North.
One particularly vicious raid targeted a small septry on a lonely stretch of coast, its monks rumored to possess a few ancient, illuminated manuscripts. The Ironborn, led by a notoriously cruel captain named Harrag Hoare, slaughtered the monks and made off with their meager treasures. Visenya's squadron, guided by Lyra's anguished visions of the massacre, arrived too late to save the septry but caught Harrag's longships as they attempted to flee. The ensuing battle was fought with a cold fury. Visenya, her face a mask of icy rage, personally led the boarding of Harrag's ship. She dueled the Ironborn captain, her Valyrian estoc a silver blur against his crude iron axe. For a moment, her control threatened to snap, a nimbus of ozone crackling around her as her elemental power surged. Aelyx, sensing this through their bond, sent a sharp mental command: "Control, Visenya! Remember your training! Subtlety, or you reveal us all!" With a visible effort, Visenya reined in her power, her victory coming through sheer skill and speed rather than overt sorcery. Harrag Hoare died with a look of shocked disbelief on his face, his throat pierced by her blade. The stolen treasures were recovered, and the few surviving captives freed.
The weather, too, became a factor. As autumn deepened, fierce gales swept down from the north, churning the Sunset Sea into a maelstrom. Naval operations became perilous. Here, Aelyx permitted himself more direct, albeit still deniable, magical intervention. On several occasions, when Lyra foresaw a key Ironborn squadron attempting to use storm cover to launch a surprise attack or to escape a Volmark patrol, Aelyx would subtly manipulate the weather patterns. A storm that should have provided cover would suddenly shift, its fury intensified, scattering the Ironborn longships directly into the path of his waiting fleet. Or a favorable wind would suddenly die, leaving Ironborn raiders becalmed and vulnerable. To the Northmen and the surviving Ironborn, these were merely the savage, unpredictable moods of their Drowned God or the Old Gods of the North. Only Aelyx, Lyanna, and their magically adept children knew the true hand guiding the tempests.
Dagon Greyjoy, battered and increasingly desperate, grew more erratic. He had lost nearly a third of his fleet, his best captains either dead or their ships at the bottom of the sea. The plunder was meager, the resistance unexpectedly fierce. His reputation as the Kraken King was rapidly souring into that of a reckless fool. Yet, he was not without a vicious cunning. Lyra's greensight brought Aelyx a new, troubling vision: Dagon was consolidating his remaining forces, nearly a hundred longships, for a final, desperate gamble. He intended to bypass the main Volmark patrols by sailing far out into the Sunset Sea, then hook back in to strike at a major, symbolic target, hoping to achieve one stunning victory that could salvage his disastrous campaign. His target, Lyra whispered with chilling certainty, was the vulnerable, wealthy port of Torrhen's Square, far south on the western coast, a town named for a previous King of Winter, a place whose sacking would send a shockwave through the entire North.
Aelyx received this news with a cold smile. The Kraken was finally overextending its coils, presenting an opportunity for a decisive, crushing blow. "He has taken the bait," Aelyx murmured to himself aboard the Leviathan. "He believes us dispersed, our attention focused on the northern coasts. He seeks a single, glorious victory. We shall give him a final, glorious defeat."
He began to issue new commands, his mind a whirlwind of strategic calculations. He recalled Maegor's Ironclads from their southern patrols, ordering them to rendezvous with Visenya's Stormbringers at a hidden Skagosi supply anchorage. He dispatched messages to Torrhen in Winterfell, advising King Stark of the new threat to Torrhen's Square and suggesting a pincer movement: Stark land forces to reinforce the town, while the combined Volmark fleet would intercept Dagon Greyjoy at sea before he could make landfall.
The war was far from over. The Ironborn, like wounded krakens, were most dangerous when cornered. Dagon Greyjoy's desperate gamble was a significant threat. But Aelyx Velaryon, the Shadow Lord of Skagos, saw not peril, but the perfect opportunity to orchestrate the Kraken's final, bloody demise, and in doing so, to elevate House Volmark to unprecedented heights of power and prestige in the North. The pieces were moving for the endgame. The wolf's enduring hunt was about to reach its climax.