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RM: Interlude: The Reaping of the Sparr
🕑 Added 2025-08-08 15:34:40 +0000 UTCMost of the Iron Isles had been pacified in the past couple of months of fighting. Rodrik the Reader, Harlaw of Harlaw, and his reformers had largely been successful in the fighting at the pivotal Battles of Pyke and Pebbleton, which had cut the head off the Traditionalist Faction and destroyed the Traditionalists' capacity to make offensive war, respectively. In the weeks that had followed, Will Humble had led a small flotilla to Old Wyk and managed to defeat the remaining Forces of the Iron Holt and Highmount Hall in battle near Nagga's Hill. House Wynch and House Stonehouse, along with the remaining Traditionalists on Old Wyk, had bent the knee to Maron Volmark as the new Lord of the Isles.
This had been all to the good. Rodrik the Reader hadn't wanted Will Humble to have to fight his kin of Humble in the campaigning on Great Wyk, the bulk of whom had remained loyal to the Old Ways. He may not have balked at plunging the Iron Isles into Civil War for the first time since Urron Redhand thousands of years ago, but he still wouldn't have demanded Will become an actual kinslayer for the sake of the Isles' reform. That was a step too far, even for him. No, instead, he had Will continue his campaign of pacification, heading to Saltcliffe, where Horgon Sunderly had taken the ragged remnants of the Traditionalist Fleet that had fled the Battle of Pebbleton to attempt to forestall Lord Donnor Saltcliffe's capture of Sunderly Cove. Rodrik wished Will well on his endeavor.
In the meantime, he, his heir, Ser Harras Harlaw, Lord Maron Volmark, and the rest of the Reformist Host descended on Great Wyk. It would be here that the decisive engagements would be fought. Headland Hall, where the seat of House Humble was, and Sparr Sound, where the Seat of House Sparr was, along with the Hammerhorn inland, where even now the seat of House Goodbrother and their vital mines was under siege. These would be the decisive battlefields of the Ironborn Civil War. Victory here would dovetail into victory elsewhere, the Reader was sure of it.
On the whole, however, this civil war had been far less destructive than the Reader had feared. Oh, certainly, many had gone to the Drowned Gods' Halls in battle, but the majority of the largest fighting had been done at sea. Many traditionalists had been fished out of the waves, half-drowned, but alive and willing to bend the knee. The land fighting had similarly had many live to surrender, with only lords and captains dying. True, the levy of the Iron Isles would be reduced, but not by as much as the Reader had feared, and the Traditionalists would still be largely decapitated, as many of their commanders had gone down with their ships to the Drowned Gods' Halls.
"I know that look. You're thinking again." Came the voice of Ser Harras, breaking the Reader out of his musings.
"Am I?" Questioned the Reader.
"Aye, you were lost in thought again." Nodded Ser Harras.
"If I am, it is because I am an old man. You'll find yourself lost in your thoughts at my age, too, mark my words." Huffed the Reader.
"Is this truly the best time for this?" Queried Maron Volmark.
"Indeed, should we not be focused on the battle at hand?" Asked Ser Harras.
"Perhaps not." Acknowledged the Reader.
The Reader looked over at his chosen liege lord. Maron Volmark was young, inexperienced, and untested at just fourteen winters. The Reader had not wanted to risk him in the fighting at such a large engagement as Pebbleton, but even he realized that he had to give young Maron some experience, else the Ironborn would never respect him and his rule would crumble as soon as the Reader himself was dead. That was why he had been taking it upon himself to educate the lad as best he could, even as Ser Harras continued Maron's training at arms. Of course, the fact that Maron's education was coming from the Reader and his chosen heir would help solidify the proper way of thinking in the lad's young mind. This would not turn out to be like Quellon and Balon if the Reader could help it, after all.
What this meant in practice was that Maron would be joining Ser Harras in the attack on Sparr Sound. The lad had to get his blade wet if his rule was to stick after the Reader was gone. Of course, the defenses of Sparr Sound were fairly robust. Two sea towers guarded the port, a harbor chain between them, topped with small cannons that the Sparr had purchased back before the Reader had decided to spring his coup in a surprising display of willingness to pay the Gold Price for armaments he could not loot with the Iron. The walls were stout, set with two gates and four towers, and made of good stone quarried from inland, though they had been built by Thrall Labor, and thus considered to have been paid for with the Iron Price by the Traditionalists.
The town itself wasn't quite as large as Lordsport, which had been home to around forty-four thousand people before the Coup, being home to perhaps half that many people, but it was still a good-sized town. The outlying villages and small towns brought the population of the lands sworn directly to House Sparr, coming to roughly three times that. It was a decent-sized holding, though the Goodbrothers still had more people, more land, and more wealth. That still meant that the Sparrs were able to equip and train decent forces off the backs of their people. The Reader expected a decent chunk of the forces facing them to be drilled, armed. and armored properly instead of being levy troops.
Any way you cut it, forming breaches in the walls would be difficult, and attacking the harbor impossible with the chain in place. The opposition was likewise to be fierce. Fortunately, for the Reformers, they did not have to form breaches in the walls. Not when the gates were the same iron-banded oak as everywhere else. True, that would only provide at most two places to assault through, but to add further good news, it seemed House Sparr only had around five hundred men in the castle at the moment. Another one-thousand-five-hundred were with the Traditionalists' Army besieging House Goodbrother at the Hammerhorn, while the rest had either been slain or had bent the knee after Pebbleton. With the Reformer's Army on Great Wyk being six-thousand-five-hundred strong, it was fairly clear that House Sparr couldn't hope to stem the tide once the defenses had been breached.
"What do you say, nuncle? Shall we begin the festivities?" Questioned Ser Harras, once again breaking the Reader out of his thoughts.
"That depends." Mused the Reader.
"On what?" Questioned Maron Volmark.
"On whether you remembered the plan, My Lord. You do recall what I said to you this morning, do you not?" Asked the Reader.
"Stay by Ser Harras' side and don't take any foolhardy risks." Recited Maron Volmark.
"Good. Ser Harras, keep an eye on our Lord." Intoned the Reader.
"I will, Nuncle. Have no fear on that count." Affirmed Ser Harras.
"Then, as soon as our Lord gives the order, the guns we have dragged ashore will begin the bombardment. You may assault as soon as you believe we are ready." Nodded the Reader.
"Very well! Fire the guns! Let's blow down their gates and have done with!" Commanded Maron Volmark.
As the cannons began to roar, firing the first ranging shots toward the gates of Sparr Sound, Rodrik the Reader, Harlaw of Harlaw, could only set his face into a grim line. This would be the beginning of the end for the Traditionalist Cause. Once Sparr Sound fell, that would be one of the three keys to victory on Great Wyk, along with the seat of House Humble at Headland Hall and the Traditionalist Army attempting to besiege the Hammerhorn. Once Great Wyk fell, Saltcliffe was bound to be pacified soon after, and then this would finally be over. Then, the Reader could turn his attention toward continuing Maron Volmark's education in the proper way to be a Lord. The Reader let out a sigh at the realization that even once the Civil War was done, he would still have plenty of work left to do.
It seemed he would not be returning to his books any time soon. . .
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Maron Volmark was nervous as he raced through the streets of Sparr Sound alongside Ser Harras Harlaw at the head of a column of men. He'd just slain his first man, and his second, all in the space of a few moments during the push on the Landward Gate of Sparr Sound. The first had been a Sparr Guardsman who had a double-bitted Battleaxe and was trying to clear a section of the gate of men, hewing limbs and heads as he marked out a circle of death around him with his axe. Maron hadn't known how he'd managed, but somehow, he'd managed to turn the stumble on a puddle of gore that he'd thought would have been the end of him into a ducking charge forward. He'd felt the breeze in his hair as the axe just scarcely sailed over his head, and then Maron's sword was punching through the Chain Armor of the Axeman's torso, biting deep into the Man's chest and killing him.
The second had been easier, as he'd been able to put some of what Ser Harras had taught him to use to lop the head off the spear of another Sparr Guardsman, disarming the man before taking his arm off at the elbow. Maron didn't want to know what it meant that taking lives was getting easier for him with each successive kill. His gorge had only risen slightly after that second kill, where, after the first, Ser Harras had to pull him back and cover him from the Sparr Counterattack as he had thrown up his breakfast of salt fish and hard cheese. Did that make him a bad person? He was supposed to be better than the Traditionalists, after all. Wasn't that why Lord Harlaw had championed him for the new Lord of the Isles? Maron figured it wasn't a good idea to dwell on such things. He could ask for advice afterward from Lord Harlaw.
For now, however, he and Ser Harras had a job to do. After breaking through the Landward Gate of Sparr Sound, there had been remarkably few enemy troops to contest them as they began their trek to the Castle in the center of town. The Gatehouse of the Castle, with its two round towers flanking it, loomed ahead. As they charged forward, arrows began to streak toward their column from defenders in the towers. Maron grunted as one of the arrows found a mark in the throat of the man behind him and a second embedded itself in his shield. Then Ser Harras dragged him back into the middle of the column, and Maron knew what to do here, thanks to the education he was getting from Lord Harlaw.
"Muskets! We need muskets to the Fore!" Ordered Maron.
"You heard the Lord! Muskets to the Fore!" Relayed Ser Harras.
At once, a group of Musketeers, their matchlocks trailing slow-burning matchcord, made their way to the front. With an echo of thunder and a burst of smoke and flame, the Musketeers suppressed the archers in the towers. Ser Harras called for the ram, and a pole with various handles, capped with the head of a snarling leviathan, for a ram was manhandled to the fore as the column advanced to the gate, shields being raised to provide cover against rocks and hot sand tossed down through the murder holes from the gatehouse to attempt to bludgeon or burn those manning the ram. Said roof was only partly successful, and Maron's stomach lurched as he saw a knot of men rushing out from the gates with burns on their faces and hands, from hot sand, some of whom had been blinded.
However, it seemed all for naught, as the ram began its deadly work, undeterred. Within minutes, the oaken gates of the Castle were splintering, and another few minutes more had them battered down entirely. Maron turned to Ser Harras, who nodded and gestured at him to give the order. Maron Volmark took a deep breath, steeling himself for more butchery, and gave the order everyone was anticipating.
"Attack! Bring me this castle!" Bellowed Maron Volmark.
A cheer went up from the men as the column surged forward into the Ward of Castle Sparr. Ser Harras and Maron followed after them, as Ser Harras led Maron up a spiral staircase into the gatehouse. Ser Harras, as always, was a terror, and the Sparr Guards attempting to stop him all put up meagre resistance in the face of Ser Harras' tightly controlled fury and the Valyrian Steel of his sword. Ser Harras cut down three men with his smoky black blade, and Maron managed to hack down a third man, parrying the flanged mace that came at his head and shoulder, charging forward in a burst of sheer terror that wound up bowling the man over and allowed Maron to plant his blade into the Man's throat.
Once again, his gorge rose only slightly at his next kill, not that Maron had much time to think about it. He surged forward alongside Ser Harras into the tower room flanking the gatehouse, and within moments, the archers in the towers and the gatehouse surrendered. Flank secured, Ser Harras and Maron headed back down with their small band of men to join the battle that was engaged in the courtyard. As they attacked from the gates, Maron idly noted that they were managing to flank the remaining Sparr Defenders. As they fought, Maron killed one more man, one a homely-looking hairy Man in actual plate, who seemed to actually be a Member of House Sparr.
This happened in a flurry of exchanged blows. Maron had barely been able to put up a defense, but fortunately, the Man's axe got stuck in the wood of Maron's shield, allowing Maron to wrench it from his grip, even though he lost his shield in the process. Maron thought that was it, only for his Opponent to draw a dagger and smash a gauntleted fist into Maron's nose, breaking it with a crunch and a spray of blood and sending Maron stumbling backward. The Sparr charged Maron, then, eager to slip his dagger in between the plates of Maron's armor and gut him. What happened next was a blur, but somehow, the pair wound up on the ground, and in the ensuing scuffle, the Man found his own dagger thrust into his armpit. Maron had managed to take down a hardened Reaver in single combat, a feat that was worthy of his Lordship, even if it was mostly luck.
The Sparrs surrendered shortly afterward, and Maron excused himself from the cheering of the men to go throw up a second time. Afterward, Lord Harlaw managed to console him. Apparently, he had done better than most for his first battle. Maron wasn't sure why, but the praise from Lord Harlaw made him feel a lot better about his efforts. It helped that Ser Harras was also around to offer advice.
"Don't worry about losing your breakfast, My Lord. Everyone has something that unmans them in their first battle." Insisted Ser Harras.
"Truly?" Questioned Maron.
"Aye. You should have seen what Rodrik Greyjoy was like after killing his first man." Nodded Ser Harras.
"What happened?" Queried Maron.
"He actually pissed himself, though that was like as not because of the wine as much as the fear. Still, the point remains. No man, not even Uncle Balon's favorite son, is immune to such displays the first time they engage in battle." Answered Ser Harras.
"What if it doesn't get any easier?" Asked Maron.
"The trick is to shunt the fear aside. Turn it into something productive. You'll learn, in time." Insisted Ser Harras.
Maron wasn't so sure that would be the case. Even if it wasn't, he still knew enough to excuse himself and not let the Men see him throw up. Thankfully, it was likely that the Civil War was about to end, and thus, the killing he would have to do would be limited. Though if there was one thing Maron Volmark knew he could count on, it was this. Lord Harlaw and Ser Harras would be here to help advise him.
And for that, Maron Volmark was grateful. . .
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AN: All right, so here we see the next chapter. The Civil War in the Iron Isles is about to reach its culmination. Rodrik the Reader has well and truly been able to start grooming Maron Volmark to be the perfect heir, especially as Maron is all too willing to listen to his advice, and that of Ser Harras Harlaw's. At the same time, he knows that the Ironborn won't really listen to or respect Maron as Lord of the Isles if Maron doesn't actually do any fighting for himself. Accordingly, Maron was with Ser Harras during the taking of the Seat of House Sparr at Sparr Sound. The kid did all right for his first real battle, though he threw up twice in the process.
At any rate, the next chapter will involve a return to Ricasso's POV for the next part of the Battle of Maidenpool, then we'll check in on the Wall for the last phase of the Battle of the Wall, followed by a return to Stannis for the last phase of the Battle of the Crag.
Stay tuned. . .
