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Chapter 77: Trial by Steel!- Part 2
🕑 Added 2024-04-17 18:41:45 +0000 UTCThis was a dick move. Gorold was not merely placing a condition; he was setting a trap. By demanding public adherence to the Drowned God, he was subtly coercing Damian into a corner that could alienate him from his own goals or the Ironborn he aimed to govern. Of course, Gorold did not know his true goal, but being able to make a Stark accept the Drowned God was the point here.
Damian's voice resonated with a deep and unwavering conviction as he addressed the assembled crowd, each word clear and deliberate against the backdrop of the restless sea. "Lord Gorold, I cannot simply set aside the gods I hold dear merely for the sake of title or power. But I must ask, is it truly necessary for me to embrace your deity to govern effectively and consider the welfare of my future vassals and smallfolk?"
He paused, letting his question hang in the salty air, giving the assembled Ironborn a moment to ponder the implications of his words.
"What do the people truly seek from their lord?" Damian's gaze swept across the faces of his listeners, each one reflecting a mix of curiosity and scepticism. "They desire prosperity and security," he continued, his tone infused with a passionate sincerity. "They need a leader who is just and fair, one who can provide strong leadership in times of both peace and challenge."
Damian's stance hardened, and his voice took on an edge of steel as he addressed Lord Gorold and the assembly of Ironborn lords. "It doesn't truly matter if you accept me or not, Lord Gorold, for you all stand here as the defeated. If there's any sense left in your thick skulls, you would heed King Robert's command and kneel. But of course, I understand—you require proof of my fitness to rule over your houses."
His gaze swept fiercely across the crowd, each lord meeting his eyes with a mixture of resentment and reluctant respect. "So, here I stand," Damian continued, his voice rising with the gusting wind, "challenging you all to combat. Let the gods decide who they wish to see as the Lord of the Iron Islands."
Lord Gorold didn't say anything further. Instead, he looked at Gilbert Farwynd and then at Dunstan Drumm and his group.
"I see, then I shall wait for the Gods to show me if you really deserve our fealty." Lord Gorold finally said and stepped back.
A murmur rippled through the gathered crowd, thick with tension and intrigue. Standing tall and imposing among his lords, King Robert Baratheon furrowed his brow in momentary perplexity.
The challenge before them had escalated far beyond the simple duel originally conceived. Instead of four, now nearly half the Iron Lords clamoured for their chance to test the mettle of the young Stark.
Damian, his resolve firming under the watchful eyes of the assembled lords, spoke with a commanding presence that seemed to reverberate across the cliffs of Pyke. "I will face each lord willing to challenge me, one by one. If I stand undefeated, then no man shall question my right to rule. Furthermore, any defeated lords will see their houses disbanded, and their possessions forfeited. If you surrender midfight, I will have the right to claim anything you own, and you cannot deny me."
The gravity of Damian's declaration settled over the crowd like a dense fog. Murmurs rippled through the assembly, each lord weighing the risk of losing not just pride but power and property.
Lord Dunstan Drumm's anger was palpable; his scowl deepened, his hand instinctively reaching for the hilt of his prized Valyrian Steel sword, Red Rain. The sword was not just a weapon but a symbol of his house's honor and strength. The thought of it falling into the hands of a Stark was intolerable to him. Damian's words from the night before had already kindled a fire of resentment and fear among the Ironborn, and now this bold, almost reckless challenge fanned those flames higher.
Dunstan's thoughts raced. This young Stark, daring to claim rights to their sacred relics, had crossed a line. It wasn't just about leadership now—it was about protecting Drumm's heritage, his very identity. He saw Damian not just as a political threat but as a plunderer, someone who saw the Iron Islands as a hoard of treasures to be seized.
If Damian knew his thoughts, he would laugh at Dunstan's hypocrisy. Red Rain originally belonged to the now-extinct House of Westerland, House Reyne. Lord Tywin made sure of that.
"I will show this young pup," Dunstan muttered under his breath, his gaze hard as flint, "what happens when they try to grasp what is not theirs." The sentiment echoed silently among his peers, for though they were defeated, their spirit remained unbroken, or so they liked to think so.
Before Lord Drumm or others could jump to accept Damian's challenge, Robert interrupted, "Damian, I can't have you fight each lord. Suppose you defeat all of them; the Iron Islands will have half its houses dissolved."
'Tch' Damian felt he had lost a great opportunity to discard these Ironlords fairly and have his men take over their lands so it would be easier to rule them. But Robert's worries were also genuine. As a King, he can't dissolve so many Houses at one time cause that would spark another rebellion on the Iron Island just after he leaves them.
"Alright, I will fight seven Iron Lords opposing me, one from each island or someone who can represent them, but my condition would remain the same. What say you, Lord Dunstan?" Damian said.
Seven was a sacred number in the religion of the southern kingdom of Westeros. If Damian were to defeat seven iron Lords back to back, his fame would shoot through the sky, and no one in the seven kingdoms would dare to question his ability or qualification to be chosen as the Lord of Iron Island.
At the edge of the crowd, among the visiting Westerosi nobility, Gerion Lannister chuckled, his voice carrying a light, amused tone. "Haha, quite the bold one, isn't he, Brother?"
Beside him, Kevan Lannister frowned slightly. "I find him brash and arrogant. He thinks he can win against seven experienced fighters" he muttered, shaking his head.
Tywin Lannister chose to remain silent, his sharp eyes fixed on Damian.
Meanwhile, the Iron Lords appeared outwardly calm, if not slightly amused by Damian's audacity. In their eyes, the prospect of a young outsider besting seasoned warriors like themselves seemed far-fetched.
it was not Lord Dunstan Drumm who stepped forward as the first challenger, despite expectations. Instead, Lord Sawane Botley moved toward the duelling ground with a deliberate stride. His house was a staunch supporter of Greyjoys.
The rest of the lineup was as follows. Lord Triston Farwynd of Sealskin Point on Great Wyk, Lord Qohrin Volmark of Volmark on Harlaw, Balon Tawney from Orkmont, Lord Donnor Saltcliff of Saltciff, and Dunstan Drumm. Waldon Wynch from Pyke was the final addition, taking the place intended for a representative from Blacktyde. Waldon's decision to represent Blacktyde was accepted by King Robert under the stipulation that it would be his house that was at risk if he lost and not the Blacktydes, as no one from that house was here to let him represent them.
Comments
Michael Marquardt
Dang wanted ser harras harlaw as well but I guess house harlaw would be smart enough to not get into this
