Dragonlord Chapter 173: War in the West P2

Dawn broke pale and quiet over the western sea, a thin veil of mist drifting over the rippling water. From the skies above the mists, the fleet of airships cast shadows across the waves — great hulking shapes of metal and wood, their canvas wings gleaming faintly gold under the newborn sun.

At the forward prow of the Nimbus, Harry stood wrapped in a black fur cloak whose edge fluttered against the sea wind.

Below him, the Northern fleet sailed in close formation – three dozen war galleys flying the direwolf banner of Avalon.

Beyond them, faint but visible, the golden beaches of Lannisport curved around the great bay, and high upon the cliffs, the red-and-gold banners of the Lannisters fluttered over the city walls.

“The scorpion bolts are ready, my prince.” Josera said, coming to stand by his side.

Harry’s eyes narrowed. He pressed the telescope against his face and looked at the harbour that lay ahead.  

The morning light glinted off the distant ramparts where Lannister guards stood in ranks, the faint shimmer of spears and armour catching fire from the rising sun. Smoke rose from the harbour — black plumes from the fires the defenders had lit, warning of the Northern approach.

“Signal the fleet. The Nimbus will lead the attack. Prepare the scorpions.” Harry ordered.

Josera nodded sharply and left the deck to ready the ship into attack position.

Bronze bells rang across the decks. The soldiers below — rows of archers, scorpion crews, and armoured men — rushed to their posts. Harry felt the hum of the magic woven into every plank of the airship beneath his skin as the ship tilted downward into attack formation.

“It’s a fine morning to break a city.” Harry whispered under his breath as he stared ahead at the approaching shores.

From the decks, sailors positioned the great scorpion launchers mounted along the airship’s flanks — immense torsion weapons enchanted with charms to launch bolts of death at great range. Each bolt they loaded was wrapped in black iron and capped with a small, glimmering orb — the explosive heads forged in Avalon’s foundries, powered by runic charge with explosive power. There were bolts with crystalised wildfire tips, but they were removed from the launchers and kept in storage.

Harry gave the order once he was informed they were in range to assault the harbour.

The Nimbus trembled as the first bolt was unleashed on Lannisport.

It streaked downward like a falling star to Harry’s eyes as it pulsed with raw magic. A heartbeat later, a thunderous explosion erupted along Lannisport’s western wall. Stone and dust burst outward in a violent spray, echoing across the bay.

Then came the second shot, and the third — until the very air shook with sounds of relentless explosions.

Below, the Northern fleet moved in perfect unison. Captain Nimpton’s flagship led the line, its decks bristling with archers. The sails snapped open to catch the rising wind as the ships advanced toward the harbour.

The Nimbus delivered a relentless assault along the length of the harbour, pounding it until all prepared defensive positions were in complete disarray. The few ships that were on the Lannister side were quickly sunk, with the men on those ships jumping into the sea for survival.

The first volley of flaming arrows arced over the sea, striking the anchored vessels of the sellsails sworn to the Lannister cause. Fire leapt across rigging and sailcloth, spreading in roaring waves of heat and smoke.

From above, Harry watched the chaos unfold — the defenders scrambling to man their towers, the harbour filling with smoke and shouting.

“Target their harbour wall,” Harry ordered. “Make them fear the sky.”

The Nimbus’s crew adjusted the scorpions. Three bolts released in unison, their combined impact shattering the gate towers that guarded the inner harbour.

Across the city, chaos reigned supreme.

The relentless assault on the harbour shattered any cohesion among the enemy soldiers. As the chaos spread, fires broke out across the harbour, sending great plumes of smoke into the sky.

With the Lannister troops in disarray, Captain Nimpton led the Northern fleet to take advantage of the distraction to land Northern troops on the city’s shores. The fleet broke through the cogs of the sellsails, their copper-plated rams smashed through the enemy ships with ease.

The Nimbus sailed past the harbour and straight over the city wall. The ballistas mounted on the walls were quickly manned, and they turned their bolts on the Nimbus. Harry signalled Josera to raise the ship further up, exposing the underbelly of the Nimbus to the ballistas.  

The Lannister soldiers didn’t wait a moment before launching their steel-tipped bolts.

Harry was honestly impressed that the city retained these ballistas. The last time he was here, he had watched the Dornish army destroy them all when Oberyn led his men into the city. To see the ballistas restored within less than two years despite the city suffering a crippling siege.

A slew of bolts were launched from the ballistas lining the city walls.

Harry heard the familiar twang of the bolts crashing against the steel-plated belly of the Numbus. He had extensively tested the durability of the enchanted steel plating covering the hull of his airship. The same thing that happened in those tests happened again on the current battlefield.

The bolts the Lannister soldiers so painstakingly launched from the ballistas shattered on impact against the sturdy metal frame of the Nimbus. No matter how many times the Lannister men launched the steel-tipped bolts from the ballistas, they failed to penetrate the armour of the Nimbus.

“Archers!” Harry yelled.

Archers took a forward step and took their position along the two sides of the Nimbus with their bows at the ready.

“Nock!”

“Take aim!”

“Loose!”

The first volley of arrows fell upon the Lannister men manning the towers along the city wall. Some arrows found their mark, and the men fell screaming. The archers under Harry’s command led a relentless assault on the Lannister men and the battlements lining the city wall. Arrows dipped in oil and lit by fire were sent to bring down the ballistas and wooden towers. The exploding scorpion bolts were also used carefully to shred stone towers, leaving the defenders no room to take cover.

The Nimbus remained hovering above the city wall, taking on the city’s defences by itself. The strategy Harry devised with his fellow Northmen worked splendidly. The entire attention of the city’s long-range defences was now focused on the Nimbus, leaving the Northern fleet to land troops with impunity.

The watchtowers along the harbour rang with warning bells, but the Lannister men were unable to do anything as Northern soldiers swept through the harbour. The sellsails on the Lannister side were the first to surrender, with their ships destroyed and the sellsails taking refuge in the sea. The wreckage of the sellsail ships covered the harbour. There was nowhere for them to run, so they surrendered without further bloodshed.

From the Nimbus, Harry observed the progress of his army using a telescope.

The Northern army surged into the harbour, cutting down Lannister soldiers with ease. It helped that most of the Lannister soldiers were fleeing rather than holding the ground. They ran predictably to the city gate, where they hoped to hide behind their wall.

Harry watched this from the Nimbus and ordered the Nimbus to cross inside the city. At the same time, he gave orders for the scorpion crew to aim the exploding bolts at the western gate along the city wall.

Three scorpion bolts were let loose, aimed at the gate where the Lannister garrison was gathered, hoping to hold the city.

The exploding bolts ripped through their ranks like raging bulls. Screams tore through the city as the Lannister garrison hiding behind the gate was ripped apart. They were blown to bits by the exploding power imbued in the scorpion bolts using runic magic. The gate that guarded them was also blown off its hinges, leaving the city wide open for the approaching Northern army.

A cheer went up among the crew of the Nimbus as they saw the banners of House Stark and Tallhart ride into the city. The Northern army had entered Lannisport with Lord Leobald Tallhart at its helm.

“For the North!” the men screamed in elation at the sight as more Northmen poured into the streets of Lannisport.

The Lannister defence began to crumble. Cut off from their commanders, many of their soldiers threw down spears and fled into the city’s narrow streets. Others tried to rally by the streets, forming desperate shield walls beneath the golden lion banners.

Leobald’s men hit them like a hammer.

From above, Harry saw the battle unfold like pieces moving on a board. He guided the Nimbus closer, his eyes fixed on the gatehouse at the far end of the street — the last strongpoint keeping the Northern host from flooding into Lannisport proper.

“Target that gate,” Harry commanded. “Two scorpion bolts should be enough.”

The crew obeyed without hesitation. The first shot struck the tower’s base; the second, a heartbeat later, split the stone arch above the gate. When the smoke cleared, the gatehouse had vanished in a burst of rubble and flame.

The Northmen, led by Leobald Tallhart, easily breached into the central part of the city while the rest took up positions blocking all the major streets. The smallfolk in the city hid inside their homes or huddled behind wells and inns.

Only a few among the Lannister garrison even dared to clash their steel with the Northern army. Steel clashed against steel in small pockets of space in the city. The streets rang with shouts and the tramp of boots while the Lannister garrison put up a valiant last stand. The Northern axes cleaved through the last line of resistance for the next hour before the sounds of battle receded from the city.

Lannisport became silent and Harry watched it all from the Nimbus. From his vantage point, Harry took in the scale of victory and quietly enjoyed it. He loved winning battles with minimal losses on his side, and this was admittedly one of the best battles he fought.

The Nimbus lowered into the city and set itself inside a considerably wide estate belonging to House Lannister, marked by the golden lion banners hung on the castle.

Nymeria joined his side once the Nimbus steadied itself on the ground with its landing legs. Together, they watched Josera lead the men to take command of the castle and its grounds. For now, the castle would serve as their holdout during their stay in the city. Its position at the centre of the city, and the fact that all roads branching out from the estate made it a good base from which to keep the city under their control.

“This should be the fastest siege anyone has won in the long history of sieges in Westeros.” Nymeria said with an amused glint in her eyes.

“No city is safe before the Nimbus.” Harry said proudly, tapping the wooden railing of his airship.

“Harrion Stark, the nightmare of cities.” Nymeria said before pearls of laughter erupted from her lips.

The sound of hooves took their attention, and Harry found a couple of riders approaching the Nimbus bearing the Tallhart banner.

“My prince — a white banner flies from the Lannister garrison’s commander. They wish to surrender. Lord Tallhart seeks your orders.”

Harry was silent for a long moment. The wind tugged at his cloak, carrying the acrid scent of smoke and sea salt pervading much of the city.

“Signal the fleet to bring about more supplies into the city. Help the smallfolk if they’re starving and open the granaries of the city for them if need be,” he said at last. “We take prisoners where we can from the garrison. But take them into service if they’re willing.”

“As you will, my prince.”

The riders started to turn their horses to ride back, but Harry remembered something.

“One more thing.”

“Yes, my prince.”

“Have Lord Tallhart send a rider outside the city to the Tully camp. Let them know Lannisport has fallen.”

“As you wish, my prince.”

Harry watched the Northman scurry away before turning to Nymeria.

“You know I was surprised when you didn’t insist on leading a company into the fight to take the harbour or the city.” Harry said with a curious look directed at his lover.

“There is no fun in poking holes in dead dogs. My family have had its revenge. There is no point in continuing that hostility.” Nymeria said, shrugging her shoulders.

Harry’s gaze turned inland, toward the towering shadow of Casterly Rock, half-shrouded in dawn mist and smoke.

“Though I wouldn’t say no to an intimate celebration in the Rock to commemorate your victory.” Nymeria said with a sultry wink.

Harry raised an eyebrow at the offer as Nymeria tried to skip away from him with pearls of laughter. But he caught her hand and stopped her while looking at her with a crooked smirk.

“Can I get two celebrations? One for the inevitable victory over Casterly Rock, but the other for the present one over Lannisport.”

“Maybe.” Nymeria whispered heatedly, batting her eyelashes at him. “It depends on whether you can find your way to my chamber when the night falls.”

“I’m sure I can manage.”

“Then I’ll be waiting to celebrate your victory.” Nymeria promised before leaving him on the deck.

He turned his sight upon the distant stone hill towering over the city walls of Lannisport. It was Casterly Rock, the seat of House Lannister.

The last time the Rock fell, the Lannister family had escaped almost unscathed. They lost Lannisport but still retained Casterly Rock, and the paramountcy by sheer chance of political considerations made by Stannis Baratheon. A decision Harry believed Stannis was regretting now, as it alienated House Tully and led to the current happenings in the Westerlands.  

The day remained one of activity for the Northern army as they asserted control over Lannisport. All Lannister garrisons were caught and neutralised. The city gates were thrown open, and contact was made with the allied Riverland and Westerland armies sieging Casterly Rock.

Fires of victory burned in Lannisport by the time the sun set as Northmen celebrated the capture of the city and the obvious victories that lay ahead in the future.

Harry stood by the window, looking out at the brightly lit sky, where the moon hung, casting its silver light on the city.

Behind him, the door opened softly.

“Still awake?” came Nymeria Sand’s voice — low, warm, edged with amusement.

He turned around.

She stood framed by candlelight, her robe of pale silk falling loosely around her as she stepped into his room. Her hair spilt freely over her shoulders, dark as the Dornish night.

“I thought you’d be celebrating still,” Harry said quietly.

“I was,” she replied, slowly closing the door behind her, “until I realised the man who won the battle wasn’t there to enjoy it. But he will be celebrating nonetheless.”

She came to stand beside him, looking up at the moonlit sky from the window of his room in the airship.

For a long moment, neither spoke. The candlelight flickered between them, casting golden light on the curve of her hips. The silk dress glittered silver under the moonlight.

He reached out, brushing his fingers lightly across her cheek. Nymeria leaned into his touch, which made Harry move behind her. His hands went straight to her hips while she leaned back into his arms.

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