The Book of Bastard (ASOIAF x The Black Company)

[Halt]

Premise: The Black Company in Planetos, set during the War of the Ninepenny Kings. Not entirely sure where I'm going with this yet, but this first bit seemed to be passable enough writing to publish, so voila.

The Book of Bastard

Hysos Part 1​

In those days the Company took coin from the Magisters of Myr. We were tasked to keep Lys in check. The best way to do that was to keep watch over Hysos, a sprawling village in the center of the Disputed Lands. Here, there were no great riches, nor glory, nor comfort, but such was the way of sellswords. I stared at the words, considering them.

"Look at our new Annalist, so hard at work." I looked up to see One-Arm's wrinkled face. "Are you ever going to eat, Bastard? The food's no-good cold," she said, before taking a bite out of my flatbread.

"The Annals need updating," I said. I had just finished listing the names of those who fell during our last commision.

"Fascinating."

"It's important work!" It was the Company's legacy, one of the few threads that bound us to our ancestors and to each other.

She plopped her head atop both hands. Suddenly, I was looking at the face of an Essosi beauty.

"Are you sure there isn't something else you'd rather be doing right now?" She shifted her head to the right, strands of hair swaying with the movement, turning from black to blonde. "Or is something Westerosi more to your liking?"

A facade, that was all it was. I knew her true face, and still, I stared longer than I should have.

"We can even live up to your-" she licked her lips and arched a brow, savoring the taste of the next word, "-title."

My face scrunched for a moment before it hit me. "Resorting to puns now?" I said dryly.

One-Arm giggled like a wench. "You're thinking about it, aren't you?"

"...No," I said, before quickly changing the subject. "You fixed your other arm?" I frowned. Did that mean we'd have to call her Two-Arms from now on? Because that sounded stupid.

"Just an illusion, nothing you haven't seen before, Bastard," she said, a smug smile on her lips. "Don't feel too bad. Young men have always thought with their cocks. Not an especially hard problem to fix considering where we are." She tilted her head to the side, where a whore was all but fucking Trot in his seat. "And with a face like yours, it wouldn't be as expensive either."

I scowled and returned my attention to my- where the fuck was my book?

"You're thinking about this too much." Of course the witch took it while I was distracted. I should have known better by now.

"These words are our history," I said. "I can't just write whatever into the Annals."

"Sure you can," she said. "That's what Croaker used to do."

I glared at her. "That is not true!"

"He wrote down his own sexual fantasies disguised as poetry for the Lady in his Book."

Okay, maybe it was a little true, but still!

One-Arm sighed. "Just write what you see. No need to be so verbose about it, Bastard." She stood and nodded to me. "I'm off."

The village had nothing but dirt, wood and whores. Of the three, only one was of any interest to my brothers.

Huh, that actually came out decently. I reached for my plate and found it empty, trails of sauce forming words on it.

No time. Officers' meeting. Grab Faithful.

Fucking witch just didn't want to wait in line.

I stood and tucked the Annals under my arm. "Thanks for the grub, Burner."

"One-Arm should be the one thanking me!" the cook shouted back as I left the mess hall.

Faithful, the Company's only other magician, was in his room, calling on the gods Red and Drowned, Drunk and Gold, East and West. The man had more deities than the Company had brothers. Did he actually believe in any of them?

"Meeting," I said as he finished up a prayer.

Faithful bobbed his head and followed after me up the stairs of our makeshift headquarters, a whorehouse we we were occupying for entirely strategic reasons. It was important to keep up morale after all.

The twins Salt and Sugar were standing guard over the Captain's door today. They let us in with a sharp nod. I spotted Shrimpy on the far side of the room. We were about the same height while he was seated...if you squinted.

"Any idea what this is about?" I asked Shrimpy.

The Sergeant shrugged. "Either Blackfyre or another of the Nine. Wanna bet which?"

The Captain walked in before I could answer, Valyrian blade at his hip. Whitening strands of hair showed his age. No one, save for One-Arm who'd been with the Company even longer, knew how old he really was. "Maelys Blackfyre invited me to a meeting earlier today," Captain began. "He wants us to surrender the village to the Golden Company. Eight thousand foot, a thousand each of horse and bow and a score of elephants."

"Elephants?" Faithful asked with a gleam in his eyes. I wouldn't be surprised if he worshipped elephants too.

"Twenty hundred horses from the Mad Mounts and eight hundred Company brothers are all that stand against him," Captain said. "Not sure if we can even count on the Mad Mounts. If Blackfyre is as smart as I think he is, he'll have talked to them too."

And the odds just keep getting better. Joy.

"I don't like it," Lieutenant said, lips taut. "We break our contract like this and we'll be hard pressed to find anymore work with Myr." Especially after our last job with them went unsaid. "But if we fight him, we might not survive."

"We've faced worse and won," said Fishbait. "Wasn't Bastard just telling us the other night about our victory over the Wine Cavalry, was it?"

"The Vine Cavalry," I corrected. "One hundred or so survivors against ten thousand horse after the Battle of Norselle."

"There's Croaker and the Lady too," One-Arm said, looking to the Captain. It was the only tale in the Annals she knew, but she knew it well. "Remember them?"

Captain nodded. "It was the Company's finest hour. Less than a hundred brothers against the greatest Empire led by the greatest sorceress and we won."

"Men die," I said. "The Company survives."

"If we fight them in the open, they'll swarm us," Lieutenant said. "If we face them from behind the palisades, it'll be harder to escape."

"I still say we run for it. Take a boat to Yi Ti or something." Shrimpy crossed his arms. "What use is reputation if we're all dead? At the very least we can find work further east, if it comes to that. There's no end to war beyond the Jade Sea."

"Even ignoring the fact that they have more cavalry than we do, we have another problem. The Blooded, the Battleborne and the Sons of Summer will be here in three days' time to reinforce the Golden Company. We're surrounded between the four of them. Escape is not a feasible option," Captain said.

"Can't we sneak past 'em?" Shrimpy asked. "One-Arm has that trickery of hers."

Our collective attention shifted towards the sorceress in question. She didn't answer immediately. "I'm not sure. I'd need to be near one of the rivers to conceal an army as large as ours."

"Even if you could, it'd be suspicious," I said. "They don't get mist down here."

"We could do as the Dragon King says and turn the city over. Should our friends in the Mad Mounts resist...well, the elephants will need some proper, human sacrifices to grow strong," Faithful said. "The bigger they grow, the stronger magic becomes." And in turn, his magic would be furthered and that benefitted the Company.

"It'll be a bloody fight even with surprise on our side," Fishbait said. "What's to stop Blackfyre from turning on us afterwards?"

"Nothing," Captain said.

"We're royally fucked either way," Shrimpy concluded. "This is a fight we can't win by force, and we don't have the space to move about."

The Lieutenant strode over towards the window and looked out into the village. "The best outcome for us would be a joint surrender with the Mad Mounts. It allows both of us to maintain our strength in case we're betrayed."

We were really going to do this. The others were talking like they'd given up on the fight. "We're really breaking our contract? Over six hundred years-"

"Spare us the lecture, Bastard. You're the Annalist, find us a loophole," Captain ordered. There was no room in his voice for argument. "The Mad Mounts must be made to see things our way, peacefully if possible." But by force if necessary.

I slumped into my chair and nodded. "Yes sir."

Captain shared a final look with One-Arm before dismissing us. She slipped out of the room quickly, taking on the visage of a Mad Mount scout.

I was up 'til morning pouring over the Annals, looking for a precedent to use as an honorable out. Well, as honorable an excuse as one can have for a band of cutthroats and hired killers named the Black Company. Technically, Myr had hired us to keep Lys in check, not to hold on to the Disputed Lands itself. By allowing a third party to occupy all of it, our job here was done.

Myr wouldn't be happy of course, but fuck 'em. It made sense to our perplexing and morally ambiguous code of professional conduct so that was that. Plus, we'd already been paid. Heh.

Grandfather would've been proud of me. My maternal one, I mean. Didn't really know who my dad was, but I'm sure he was a cunt born to cunts. Not that grandfather wasn't also a cunt, but he was a rich cunt, which made him a tad more tolerable.

One-Arm returned to us during breakfast, humming a jaunty little tune as she snatched up my food. Fucking morning persons.

"So Bastard, how was your night? Sleep alright?" One-Arm asked.

"Mm." The witch didn't need sleep. I'd seen her fight without end for days. Probably sacrificed a baby for that

"Well, I slept great, thanks for asking."

A cute baby. "Fuck you," I growled, bringing my plate firmly back onto my side of the table.

She grinned. "I offered last night."

"Go 'way."

She swiped a piece of meat from me, licking the sauce from her lips with an exaggerated sigh. "Love you too, Bastard." Then she stood up, thankfully, and went to bother someone else.

Peace at last.

I scoffed down my food and drink before she returned. Which, as it turned out, was all too soon. It always way.

"So, you awake enough for me to tell my tale to, company storyteller?" One-Arm asked.

"Can I say no?"

"Nope."

I let out an exasperated breath. "Go ahead," I said, brandishing my quill.

She had snuck into the half of town the Mad Mounts occupied, child's play with her disguises, and found a company serjeant of theirs drinking somewhere. One sexy waitress outfit and three pints of moonshine later, he was telling her everything she needed to know. Apparently, only their third-in-command, a Duncan Branfield, was interested in making peace with the Golden Company.

From there, all she had to do was kill this Branfield's higher ups without making it obvious we were behind the assassination. As I understand it, she choked one guy, beheaded the whore he was sleeping with, then made it look like the other guy stabbed himself in the same room out of grief. Your typical Essosi tragic love story.

All in all, just a regular night out for One-Arm.

"Is that it?" I asked the witch as she finished her dramatic recounting of the tale.

She pouted. "You've no appreciation for my art."

"Art?" I repeated. "Is that what we're calling it now?" I swear, the woman just wanted to see her name written as many times as possible in the Annals as if frequency of mention was the validation of her existence.

Quality over quantity, One-Arm.

 

[ReadsByLamplight]

This looks pretty interesting.

 

[Tabi]

The Essosi and thr Black Company. Also that analist is a right bastard.

 

[Skychan]

I have to say I started skeptical, just because it is hard to do the Black company well. But your approach, in the future of the company, but with enough callbacks is perfect. Continuity is there, as you said, "Men die, the company survives." With all that you also managed introductions of new characters and got me interested in them and their personalities and lives. So I'm all for this story.

 

[BossFight]

This looks really good, but I'm concerned with how easily the Black Company is breaking contract. You need to really pound home howners desperate they are

 

[Halt]

AN: I'm alive, I guess?

Hysos Part 2​

Nothing went according to plan.

Branfield, as it turned out, wasn't just interested in making nice with the Golden Company; he was ecstatic about it. Branfield had declared openly for Maelys Blackfyre and thrown open the gates. It didn't take long for the Golden Company to enter the city. With that, our only bargaining chip was erased. Offering resistance was only a nuisance to the numerically superior force if it meant we could bog them down for weeks with a siege. If we tried it now, we'd all be dead within hours.

The Captain called for another meeting that midafternoon. Even the corporals and Fiddler, our Standard Bearer, were present as the old man addressed us.

"We must choose by dawn." Captain let the Helm of the Dominator rest on his desk as he stood. "Blackfyre will not force us to join him at swordpoint. We'll merely be left unarmed, but unharmed, beggars."

"To hell with that!" Fishbait shouted. "Just give the word, sir, and I'll lead the rearguard myself. Let those cunts try to get past me if they can."

"Or we could purge them," said Shrimpy, drawing his knife. "Their men will be drinking later, night before a march. Wait for them to get right drunk and-" he buried the blade into his armrest "-slit their throats while they sleep."

"Blood and death!" Faithful cackled. "Nothing would please the Gods more."

Lieutenant shook his head. "Neither of those plans would work. Even if we could kill enough of them, they have reinforcements coming." He paused to look at the Captain. "You want us to join Blackfyre?"

"It buys us some time and gets us out of the city intact," Captain said. "We stay patient. We wait for our chance. Understood?" There were nods around the room. He directed the next bit at our sergeants. "While we're on the move, I want a proper perimeter set up each night we camp - walls, ditches, and double guards."

"Yes sir," replied Fishbait and Shrimpy.

"Bastard, I need you to keep track of our supplies for the foreseeable future," Captain said, "and I need the Annals."

I had heard those words only once before, back when I was new to being Standard Bearer under Old Man Zif. The Company was on a vigorous stroll through the Dothraki Sea when we came across Khal Sarro. The horse lord took exception to our presence. For six days and six nights, we were harried until the Captain stumbled upon Goldtongue's account of the Wyvern Hunt at Green Hell. On the seventh day, Sarro was dead, and his son became a Brother.

I spared Trot a glance, before handing the Annals over. "Keep this one," Captain said, returning the book I'd been scribbling in. "I remember that far at least."

"What about recruiting while we're here?" Lieutenant asked. "A few more bodies for the shieldwall wouldn't hurt."

"That's cutting it close," Captain said. The Black Company didn't just let anyone who could get fancy with a sword in. To stand under the skull and flames was to be veteran. The Captain took this policy a step further, refusing to take in men whose loyalty we could not count on - nobles, zealots and more. The Company's survival had to be the chief priority. Always.

It gave our two mystics plenty of practice sneaking about. Half of Faithful's repertoire must've been invented while stalking a would be brother. But that also meant recruitment took longer, four days at least, usually more.

"We might not have a chance like this for a while," Fishbait noted. "We'll need to wet our blades before this is over. I'd rather have more men than less with me."

"Another dozen swords won't make a difference, but a traitor will." Captain said, crossing his arms. "No recruits, not from here." Lieutenant should have known better than to try. About anything else the Captain might be swayed on, but on this he was as adamant as Blunty. "Tell the men to get their affairs in order."

Some of the rank and file had grown roots here, which was oft the case whenever we stayed somewhere for a length of time. The not quite wives would be left behind, and some of them - the lucky ones - with enough gold to see them comfortably through the years.

We are the Black Company. Only through the Annals do our names and deeds live on.

"Are you on vigil tonight?" Shrimpy asked. I shook my head. "Good. How 'bout we head across town, see if we can find some new friends."

I raised a brow at him. "You want to go drinking?"

"Among other things," he said.

-The Book of Bastard-​

Shrimpy slammed three more pints of his 'special brew' onto the table and flashed us a wicked grin. "This here's some quality stuff." A heavy smell hung about it, making me crinkle my nose. "Nothin' that cheap swill on your side of town can match, Mudd. Think you can handle it?"

Mudd laughed and took a lengthy swig, some of the ale dribbling down the side of his mouth. "Keep them coming!"

"Ha! Good man!" Shrimpy said, passing him a second one. "See, you could learn a thing or two from him, Bastard."

I rolled my eyes and took a measured sip, not done with my cup from the last round. I'd be crazy to murder my liver when we'd be marching out of town tomorrow. "Not all of us have giant's blood, Shrimpy." I said, before turning to our guest. "You were saying about Branfield, Mudd?"

"He's a second son of some noble prick," he said. "Word around our camp is he ran away from his brother after cucking him."

Shrimpy snorted. "Explains a lot. You guys really fucked us today."

"Hey, I'm not happy about what he did either," Mudd said, taking another swill. "Fucking cunt! We could've gone over to Lys, turned over this shit town, and had our beds warmed. Instead, it's off to the Stepstones for months of hard fighting and hard living."

While the Captain wanted nothing to do with the Band of Nine, in reality, there was nothing we could do but play along once Branfield begged Blackfyre to take him like a twopenny whore. The only position from which we could bargain was to threaten resistance - a threat that wasn't much of one if there were men within Hysos who'd throw open the gates.

"The Black Company is free to go where they please, but the gifts this town has so generously provided must be surrendered alongside it. It's only fair," Blackfyre had said. "Now, if you were to volunteer your services, I'm sure something could be worked out."

The message was clear. We could keep either our freedom or our coin.

Naturally, the men chose coin. They were used to killing at the orders of despots and dunces alike, but they'd sooner pick a fight with a god than relinquish their hard earned gold. The Captain knew that.

"What does Blackfyre want with the Stepstones anyhow?" I asked. "It's nothing but some desolate rocks home to pirates and bad weather."

"I dunno, the sea trade maybe?" Mudd said. "I hear the merchants pay in gold to let their ships pass unmolested."

"You think Old Mother and Saan want all of the tolls to themselves?" I asked.

"Could be. I know I would if I had the chance." Mudd paused as a whore came by, bringing another pitcher of Shrimpy's drink before settling in his lap. "I have to say, you Black Company boys sure know how to pick a spot to settle in. Our girls ain't as pretty as yours."

Shrimpy laughed and slapped the girl's ass. "Go on, Iana, show our friend here a good time tonight," he said, slipping a few coins between her ample bosom. "On me."

Iana pouted at Shrimpy, before forcing a smile onto her lips and walking over to Mudd.

Mudd smiled wide, stumbling as the whore led him away by hand. "Heh, you ain't so bad, Shrimpy!" he said. "Dunno why some of the lads give you a bad name."

"Going soft in your old age?" I said to Shrimpy.

He grunted and signalled for Pious and his crew to shadow the pair. "Don't you worry, Bastard. He'll pay me back for the lady and the drinks, with interest."

"How much is that?"

"Well, I charge a very high interest. I'm sure he'll have enough on hand to just about cover it."

 

[Halt]

A Vigorous Walk​

Thus far, I have strived to write in the tradition of Croaker, Slipknot and Old Man Zif. However, it has been pointed out to me that, given how nomadic the Company is, future brothers reading through my account will not be familiar with the geography or the strategic significance of certain places. I would be a poor Annalist if I did not address this, so here it is: the facts, figures and dry writing I'm sure everyone enjoys.

You can thank One-Arm for this.

The Disputed Lands, as the name suggests, has been switching hands since the time of my grandfather and longer. Here, the crops grow tall and the animals fat. It's no surprise people fight over it - countries have gone to war over patches of desert.

Not that I'm complaining.

Any decent sellsword can make a good living here, and the Black Company is better than decent. It's not just the pay that brought us here, it's also how wars were conducted. I've seen allied kingdoms less civil with each other than the eternal antagonism between Tyrosh, Lys and Myr. The Captain had hoped to bring the Company up to full strength with the easy gold Myr had offered.

No chance that was happening now that the Band of Nine had attacked.

See, the Nine was composed of a merchant prince, two pirate fleets, five sellsword captains and one really Bad Apple. A little under twenty-six thousand strong answered to them, twenty-eight if we're counting the Mad Mounts. These weren't thugs with swords, but hardened professionals who could put up a fight against the Black Company - not that they could win without a numerical advantage. To match their quality and their numbers, one would have to buy up every contract from Braavos to Volantis.

The smaller towns within the Disputed Lands weren't big enough to warrant a set of protective walls, and therefore couldn't really stop Maelys from marching in and taking over. Some places, like Ziki, held out and were "put to siege". Mostly though? It seemed the people here did not give a fuck who was in charge as long as they could be paid to leave them in peace. Whether you called that payment a bribe or a tax was irrelevant.

Hysos was at a crossroads between Myr and Lys, and with it now captured, the Nine were in effective control of a third of the Disputed Lands.

All without even having to face an army in the field.

-The Book of Bastard-​

Men grew restless on long walks like this. Eight hundred of the toughest sons of bitches armed to teeth and boredom are two things that can only end in disaster. Thankfully, our forefathers had thought up of a solution to this long ago. It's name?

"Tonk!"

That's right. Not important my ass, Fishbait. Tonk was the glue that held the Company together and stopped Brothers from stabbing each other on nights like this. It's importance to the everyday function of the Company and keeping the men in good spirits was invaluable - and I'm not just saying that because I make a killing off of it.

"Piao si!" Leafy swore as he and Greenie each handed over a gold coin to Sugar. The face of a man with a long, flowing beard was stamped on one side and a phoenix on the other.

"That's all the Imperial Kimmies I 'ave on me," Greenie said, stretching his legs. Crouching that long, at his age, must've been hard on him.

"Kim tsi," Leafy corrected, watching closely as Sugar gathered up the wooden cards and shuffled them with a series of cuts.

"We'll happily take your gold honors too if you got any, Greenie," Sugar said.

He shook his head. "N'aww, I'm done. My vigil starts in an 'our. Gotta get ready."

"How about you Bastard?" Sugar asked. "Payoff's half a coin."

"Sure, deal me in." Leafy passed me my cards.

There were two ways to win at Tonk. Getting a Tonk (a hand higher than forty-eight or lower than sixteen when the cards are dealt) entitled you to double the pay from everyone playing. Face cards counted as ten and I had four of those and a five right now. Damn, four short of Tonk, which meant to win I had to go down to win, and with my sum being what it was, it was far too risky a play right now.

I glanced at the other two. It didn't seem like they were confident in their hands either.

Leafy drew first, scowled at his hand and discarded a seven.

"Greenie," I said, "I heard you were with the Captain when he went to talk with Blackfyre. Any word what the Nine are up to?" There was little opportunity to talk with men from the other companies while on the march, even sandwiched between the Golden Company and the Sons of Summer. The Captain was the only one who had a chance to intermingle really, him and whoever went with him on his trips to Blackfyre.

Sugar placed a ten on the table and gestured to me. That was good. Their discards told me that their hands were comparably as high as mine, so no one was going to try and claim the pot, not when failing meant paying twice the payoff. I drew a one. I'd hoped for one of the red Queens so I could put down a three-of-a-kind, but this was better than getting another face card.

Leafy shouted something in his native Yi Ti tongue, and a queen showed up on the table. The king of spades quickly followed suit.

Greenie offered me a smile in apology as he unslung his bow. "Sorry Bastard, I didn't catch a whole lot of what they said."

Like most of the men in the Company, Greenie couldn't read or write, but don't let that fool you for a second. There was a reason he was the best shot in the Company even at his age.

"You Sure? Every little bit helps," I said.

"You play while talk, okay?" Leafy said.

I rolled my eyes at him, but drew anyway. With one queen already on the table, my odds for completing a trio were slim. It was an easy choice to start throwing away my set.

"Well, I did get a good look at that nice map Blackfyre had," Greenie said. "Buncha figures and stuff on it too? I don't rightly know what they all mean."

I turned to look him in the eye. This was huge. "Could you draw it?"

He shrugged. "I guess? Would that help you with your his'try thing?"

"Yeah, I'd really appreciate it."

"Well, if it's for the Annals, Bastard, I'll do my best," he said, taking the Annal and a quill I handed him.

I returned my attention to the game. A four, a king and an impatient Leafy were waiting. I got rid of my other queen. It was the right call too, Leafy dropped the last queen onto the table next. Keeping them would've killed any chance I had at winning.

Then Sugar drew and a grin appeared.

"Oh fuck me," I muttered.

"Three threes," he said, dropping a heart, spade and diamond. On top of that, he discarded a jack and his hand of two looked very scary.

"That's the game," I said, going through the motion of drawing and discarding. Leafy cursed again as he finished his turn.

As I expected, Sugar dropped his cards instead of drawing. My thirty and Leafy's forty-one weren't even close to his eleven. He happily took our gold and reshuffled the deck.

"This is all I coulda remembered," Greenie spoke up.

The sketch was rough, an outline of a landmass I assumed was the area surrounding Hysos. Circles were scattered sparsely across it, while crosses clustered near the middle, but without names I couldn't make any sense of it. Still, it was better than nothing. The Captain hadn't seen fit to tell me anything yet, until then I'd have to work it out on my own.

I glanced down at the hand Sugar dealt me. No trios or straights I could see, and nowhere near Tonk. I did have one thing going for me though – the cards only added up to thirty-two.

I watched Leafy and Sugar throw down a king each. Odds were good I had the lowest hand right now. If I got this wrong, if it turned out even of them had an equal or lower total, than I'd be losing money.

What the heck.

"Thirty two," I said, showing them my cards.

Greenie laughed. "Lucky Bastard."

Sugar shook his head and Leafy scowled.

"Can either of you make sense of this?" I asked, showing them Greenie's drawing as Sugar prepared another round of Tonk.

"Look like map," Leafy said unhelpfully.

'Because it is," Sugar said, pointing to the curve of the edges. "See that right there? That's the coastline of the Disputed Lands."

"Yeah, but which part of it?" I asked.

"All of it, Bastard," he said. "It's a map of the whole area."

I took another long look at it. "You sure?"

He snorted. "I was a sailor before joining up, you know."

Oh right, ex-pirate. Of course, he'd know all about coastlines. "If that's true, then over here must be Hysos," I muttered, pointing to the circle where the X's clustered around. We'd been travelling westward ever since, so the Black Company had to be one of the X's to it's left.

If I was reading this right, and that was a big if at this point, it seemed Blackfyre's friends were busy bringing the rest of the cities in the Disputed Lands to hell. Two X's seemed to head north, while another southwest. Any force from Lys or Myr would find their path blocked by armed men.

And we'd be doing the same to Tyrosh.

The Nine were carving out a kingdom for themselves.

 

[Halt]

A Vigorous Walk Part 2

"BLACK COMPANY, KHATOVAR!"

The signal to attack.

My eyes snapped open and my hands moved for my weapons - an axe and a buckler and a weirwood bow. All around me Brothers were following suit, not a hint of fear or worry or uncertainty to be found. Men sprung into action, forming up in good order and without chaos. All of us were already armored.

I joined the other skirmishers gathering by the gate. Within minutes, we were ready, One-Arm being the last to reach us.

The Captain stood to our right, face severe. One hand wielded Blunty with ease, the other cupped the Helm of the Dominator. The Lieutenant and Fiddler stood besides him, Company Standard planted into the ground. Behind them, a man in armor with more gold than sense. Someone from the Golden Company then, a lieutenant of theirs perhaps?

If our enemies thought they would catch us off guard, they were wrong. Even now, under the predawn sky, we were ready for any foe that dared take the field against us. Years of fighting besides each other meant that in battle, every Brother knew his place.

"Men DIE," the Captain said.

"The Company SURVIVES!" we answered.

He nodded and the Lieutenant stepped forward. "Company," the gates opened, "forward!"

We sallied. Any other army would've ran headlong into the waiting spears of the enemy. Us? We rushed out of the gate only to lock shields in a semicircle facing outwards, then we waited. As each second passed, more of our Brothers streamed out, the shieldwall grew longer, and we could advance in an unbroken line.

One-Arm stood well behind us, doing nothing yet. Faithful held her hand in solemn ritual. Only a slither of the moon still hung in the sky at this time of month. She'd need to use her powers only as it was needed, even with Faithful there to back her up.

A pack of horse galloped parallel to us, riders nowhere in sight. It seemed the Mad Mounts weren't doing so well. Serves the assholes right for kissing up to Blackfyre instead of the smart thing.

In the distance, fires raged and spears shattered.

"Shields!" We raised our shields high. Seconds later, arrows rained down to little effect.

"Open!" Several gaps appeared in our lines. Our cavalry rode through, the Captain at their head. I caught only a glimpse of his back, the shadows clinging to his form possessively. I was glad the old man was on our side. Could you imagine having a demon ride you down in the dark, eyes aflame and Death whispering in your ear?

"KHATOVAR!" the Lieutenant shouted for the second time. We surged forward wordlessly, a fine mist coating us. Just enough to hide us for a moment, but a moment was all we needed.
The Captain and his cohort had sent the enemy - mercenaries paid for by Tyroshi gold - into disarray. Even hardened men would scatter before the Helm of the Dominator if caught unaware. They had attacked us expecting to face a disorganized foe. Instead, they were met with discipline and steel, and at our head the Terrors of the Night.

To their credit, they didn't break just yet. A sergeant shouting here, a corporal standing his ground there kept the Strong Shields from routing.

Greenie and his men let loose thirty arrows, then thirty more, and soon no men were left to lend our foes courage.

It was decimation.

-The Book of Bastard-​

I said it was decimation and I do mean it in the literal sense. One in ten men now nourished the soil here.

More might have died, but the Mad Mounts were hit hard. By the time enough riders could be gathered up to give chase safely, the Strong Shields had scattered. I doubt they'd bother us again though. We'd made it a point to kill anyone who looked like they might have an ounce of authority. I wouldn't be surprised if you told me their entire command structure was gone.

On our side, we had a few injuries, no more than a dozen. Leafy's seeing to them now, treating them with those herbs he brought from Yi Ti. Swine took a nasty blow. We're afraid he might not make it.

As for our "allies", the Mad Mounts had lost some three hundred men. What's worse was their horses had fled. They'd need a few days to gather them up again. That's the problem with the breed they used. They weren't proper war steeds that could stand the stress of battle without a firm rider.

The Golden Company suffered no casualties. One will note that Blackfyre, through that lieutenant of his, had ordered us to engage the enemy while his men watched.

-The Book of Bastard-​

Swine was dead.

I didn't know him that well, only ever really played that one game of Tonk with him. Fucker tried to cheat me too.

Still, he was a Brother.

You will be missed, Swine. The Company survives for you.

Other men have families to weep for them and children to sing their songs. We are the Black Company, last of the Free Companies of Khatovar. No one will spare us their tears.

-The Book of Bastard-​

Want to know a secret?

We knew everything.

We knew Tyrosh would hire the Strong Shields. We knew they'd be sent against us. We knew where and when and how they'd hit us. Most of all, we knew Blackfyre knew, and that he said nothing.

Why? Because the gods were on our side.

Or, to be more specific, the priest of the gods was on our side. While a multifaith priest like Faithful made more than a handful of the men feel better about our odds, his true use to the Company were his otherworldly powers.

Men have such limited imaginations, you know? They hear we have a wizard and wait for lightning to strike our enemies. They find their ambush failing and blame prophetic vision. They find their leaders dead and claim it was the shadows that did it.

To them, magic is all about flash.

It's so much more than that. Sure, every so often you might come across a genuine seer or shadowbinder, but those types were amateurs at heart. Faithful and One-Arm were Black Company. They were professional.

The first time Blackfyre had called for Captain to meet with him, Faithful was chosen to be his escort. While there, he'd made a big show of sacrificing to the gods to grant us victory, and handed out some coin he had "blessed". The Golden Company was all too happy to accept the free gold, even Blackfyre took one.

In a single hour, every conversation in their camp became open to the Captain.

Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, right?

The outriders came exclusively from the Golden Company, despite the light cavalry of the Mad Mounts being better suited to the task. We were sure they'd known the Strong Shields were in the area. The attack hadn't caught them anymore off guard than it did us.

As for where and when and how...well, people might forget, but the Annals didn't. Years before, we'd fought with the Strong Shields in a punitive campaign against Pentos. Their strategies hadn't changed much. If you knew the how, then the when and where were simple to deduce.

We knew they'd be sent against us. The Strong Shields were the only mercenaries large enough to challenge our combined host in the west. There was no way Tyrosh would stand aside while the Nine marched across the Disputed Lands. As for their hiring, that had happened before the Nine started upsetting the regional balance. It's not like it was a big secret.

Make no mistake, the Strong Shields hadn't ambushed us. We had ambushed them.

 

[Xilentxium]

Ladies and gentlemen, this is why one does not fuck with the Black Company

 

[TheWarlord]

It took me awhile to catch up with this but it it damn good.