Eddard could swear in the name of the Old Gods. There was magic in the very voice of the man. It was so loud, yet the man wasn't shouting. He knew the words reached far in the back.
"O' sons of the Seven Gods,
Warrior watches and nods.
Raise your heads high and be proud,
Glory is yours, only pray aloud.
Seven bless us, Seven guide us."
Eddard felt frozen in place, questioning how the man was so loud while speaking so gently. But he did become alert when the Septon got closer to the king, still kneeling. He reckoned Ser Barristan would react, but the man didn't move.
"King Robert Baratheon."
He lays his hand on the king and… none move?
Right before him, Bronn the Blessed patted the king's shoulder, ushering the tall king to stand high. Following that, every man in the army arose.
"Warrior's hand guides your hammer, Your Grace."
"Bah! I knew it! I could feel my strikes stronger." Robert boomed, elated. "You bless us with your presence, Lord Septon."
"Duty, Your Grace. The Seven led me to this place with reason enough. Have your messengers readied. I have words for the Ironborn. The Seven burn with wrath for what those sea rats did to their faithful. I'll give their commanders one last chance to kneel and take the Seven into their hearts, or drown in the fury that waits."
Eddard had to speak there. "My… Lord?"
"Lord Septon."
Eddard frowned when Robert corrected him. "Lord Septon, your efforts are wasted. Those men would sooner die than forsake their drowned god. You'll find no surrender among them."
"I know, Lord Eddard Stark. Yet the Seven's hand guides mine. I must hear their cause with my own ears. If peril waits, let the talk be held on neutral waters, aboard a merchant's ship."
"But…"
"Enough, Ned." Robert boomed, sounding annoyed. "Forgive my friend here, Lord Septon. He… follows the old ways."
Eddard scowled. He'd never heard Robert have any problem with his faith. But he was more interested in this Lord Septon's reaction.
"I am aware, Your Grace. But old or new, Gods are Gods. It's the light in the heart that matters. For as long as my light can bring guidance, all are welcome to follow."
"Wise words, Lord Septon."
Eddard silently sighed. Robert seemed stricken with the Lord Septon more than he was obsessed with Lyanna.
"Barristan, summon the messengers. And let it be known we'll aid Lord Septon in his holy work."
At that point, Eddard just accepted the situation. He couldn't move Robert, no matter what. The faith was too strong.
####
Ah, so this is the famed Eddard Stark?
Bronn eyed the stoic man and instantly knew what sort of creature the Northern lord was. Cold, harsh, silent, just as one would expect from the cold, harsh north. But the man was insignificant to him. At the moment, he had no grand ambitions to turn House Stark to his cult. He was already busy with the Manderlys.
Once he had spoken with the king, he guided his armored men to set up two separate camps. One was for his and the dwelling of his entire entourage, and the other was just for healing the injured.
Within a few hours, the first sick and wounded started to arrive. The Septas were well-trained and used Bronn's brewed potions to heal wounds, cuts, and quell fevers. Bronn personally healed some of the more wounded ones.
And the whole time, there were at least a hundred eyes on him, no matter what he did. Of course, he made sure not to do something with Unella or Malora.
He showed miracles and magic every single day. Anyone who doubted him became a believer after that. Levitation, mending broken items, or creating light. They were some of the simplest spells he'd learned over the years, and that was enough to excite the masses.
It took a whole week for the words to exchange between the Ironborn and Robert's men. It took a lot of negotiation and back and forth to even decide the place of meeting between Bronn and Ironborn commanders.
Robert had to declare that Bronn was their last hope. And as the Ironborn had already lost their fleet in the recent defeat, after some tantrums, they took the offer.
Finally, on a fine morning, Bronn was led to a small boat and then boarded a large royal ship, which took him further towards the meeting place. Accompanying him were four Angelic Knights, the strongest ones, Lord Stannis Baratheon, and Lord Eddard Stark.
They sailed away from the coast, but stayed somewhere between Banefort and Faircastle. The rules were simple, they weren't allowed to bring more than three ships. Further, the real meeting was to take place on a merchant's ship.
Bronn was the representative of the crown at that moment, and to the Ironborn, he was their hope to buy time or end the battle without inviting a land invasion.
"Not a twitch, not a breath out of place. Even if they attack me, do not move." Bronn ordered the men, the Angelic Knights, and the two lords. "The Seven walk with me. No mortal edge shall cut Their will."
None of them questioned him.
An hour later, they finally saw the lone merchant ship, and in the far distance, three Ironborn ships.
Bronn's vessel continued to approach the merchant ship, and soon a gangway was placed between them. The Ironborn side did the same, and they all bored around the same time.
That one looks demented.
There were three men at the front, he saw. But two of them wore armor, and one of them was rather large, his hair flecked with grey. He looked serious. Meanwhile, the other man was quite handsome with pale skin, black hair, and a dark beard. Notably, the man wore a black leather patch on his left eye.
"Is that the one with magic?"
The first to speak was that handsome eye-patch-wearing man.
Thankfully, Stannis Baratheon quickly eased Bronn's confusion.
"Lord Septon, the tall one is Victarion Greyjoy, and the other is Euron Greyjoy. I don't know the third man."
Two of the most important Greyjoys? Seven Cunts, this might prove better than I was hoping.
Bronn maintained a solemn air to himself and walked to the middle of the ship's deck. He eyed the two men carefully, trying to gauge how they'd react to him. Victarion seemed the stoic type, and Euron seemed more eccentric, hence more dangerous.
"The Seven led our feet here, sure as steel finds flesh," Bronn murmured, lifting his hand as light spilled forth to prove his worth. "Let the Seven bear witness, for Their judgement settles all before nightfall."
"Hah! He speaks like you, Tarle!" Euron howled, laughing.
"Tricks!" voiced the man named Tarle. "I am a priest of the Drowned God. They call me Tarle the thrice-drowned."
"Let's not make it four," Bronn replied.
"Bahaha!" Euron laughed even louder. "I like him already."
Tarle frowned and stepped closer. "Your messenger spoke madness. You've come to make us forsake the old ways? To cast off the Drowned Gods and bow to your Seven devils?"
"The light of the Seven reaches all, sooner or later," Bronn said, calm as a still pond, hands folded as if in prayer. "Hear me now, for the Gods have spoken through me. The blood you've spilled, the pain you've sown among their faithful, it all cries for judgment. Bow before their grace, take the light of the seven, or vanish without hope of heaven."
"Stannis Baratheon, what is this nonsense?" Victarion Greyjoy addressed the stoic Baratheon.
Stannis didn't respond. He obeyed Bronn's order not to even flinch.
"This lies beyond land, beyond realm, beyond crowns. Time has come for the Ironborn to change their ways." Bronn declared, "There is no drowned god, no old, no new. The Seven see no difference. The sea and the sun serve one will."
Splash!
Bronn raised his right palm parallel to the ship's deck, and out of nowhere, water started to flow from his very palm.
"Choose! To submit? Or to be purged?"
Euron let out a low, cruel laugh. "Purge? Tell me, how will you manage that? Your own blood will flow with the rest if you invade."
Bronn stopped casting magic. "The seven need no invasion to purge sinners."
"Bah! Seven this, Seven that, Seven my ass!" Euron spat. "We sit here babbling with a fool while the seas call to me. Tell me, is this the crown's final word?"
Stannis still didn't speak. Eddard Stark remained silent as well.
Bronn didn't, however. The little game he was playing had finally reached the end as tiny little flies left his sleeves.
"Oh, Seven above, they stand blind,
I taught, yet insanity clouds their mind.
No mercy shall now befall their halls,
Death and justice shall ring through the walls."
Bronn raised his right hand again and cast that light magic spell.
"All three of you! For crimes the Seven despise, I condemn you to die. You shall sleep tonight, yet never meet the sky. Hold your lovers close, whisper no lie. Count your breaths, for the Strange draws nigh."
Finally, Bronn turned around and simply walked back to their ship through the gangway. The Angelic knights were the first to follow him. But he did hear the two lords take a moment and their little exchange.
"That's it?" Eddard Stark inquired.
Bronn heard Stannis' response and chuckled.
"Look well upon them, Lord Stark. They are dead men walking; they simply don't know yet."
___________________
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