Eagle of the Valley of Ice and Fire

"The waves should not belong to him. Seaworth is a noble name."

The bastard of Nightsong City, Roland Storm took off his helmet. The nightingale carved on it was very eye-catching.

Davos looked at the bastard's breastplate, which was engraved with a warrior holding a giant sword, and the seven-pointed star emblem of the Seven Gods was hidden behind the warrior.

The sea breeze pushed the waves mercilessly, forcing it to surge onto the deck. For the first time, Davos felt that the swaying ship could make him dizzy. This was something he had never seen in his decades of smuggling career!

The bastard's measles face showed a trace of sadness, "He is a good captain, but the ship is drifting. Maybe when you return to Dragonstone, you can find an island to bury him..."

Roland Storm said nothing more and turned away from Davos.

"A noble name..." Davos' voice was very small. He tried to open his eyes wide to see Dale's face stained by mud.

The Onion Knight squatted down and brushed the water grass off his son's face with his hands, his throat choking a little.

But tears were like salt in the sea, everywhere, nothing unusual, even a little cheap.

When he went ashore, he didn't even notice that the Sea Sprite sank to the bottom of the sea. He only remembered that Mathos was shot into a sieve by arrows in front of him. He was silent and didn't even cry for help from his father before he was swept under the horseshoes of the Vale Cavalry. He couldn't even find his body when he evacuated in a hurry.

Ironically, his Black Bess was damaged in the hull and looked tattered, but the sailing speed was not affected much.

"A noble caste, but it was tainted by smugglers." The sadness given to him by the death of his two sons was soon covered by the guilt like a huge wave. Davos thought of Stannis, the great trust and tens of thousands of troops that Stannis gave him. His father's dereliction of duty and his ministers' dereliction of duty came to his heart at the same time, just like the tide on the coast, he fell into it again after a short breath.

He looked up and around the deck, wanting to find the monk who had been accompanying him on the boat to pray, but the latter's half body was still dragged at the stern and swallowed by the white foam of the waves.

Davos nodded to the servant beside him, and the servant quietly covered Dale's body with a brown shroud and dragged it to the side of the cabin.

This is almost the commander's privilege, Davos thought, and he looked at the body of an unknown person thrown into the sea.

"Stop," Davos said to the servant who was leaving. The servant stopped moving, turned his head and looked at him, waiting for his orders, "Seaworth originated from the sea and will belong to the sea. This is the root of the fallen leaves..." He glanced at Dale's body, swallowed his throat, suppressed his sobs, "Leave his flesh and blood to the fishermen who make a living."

Davos turned around and stopped looking at the shroud.

The sound of an object breaking through the sea came to his ears, and the Onion Knight sighed. He must arrange everything a commander should do before meeting King Stannis.

…

"Broken Sword" Timon raised his long sword embroidered with floral cracks and chopped at the neck of the Lannister red robe soldier.

"Puff!" Flesh peeled off the Lannister soldier's body. Except for the unconscious twitching of his calves, he showed no signs of life.

"The king is in deep thought, we shouldn't disturb him." Sir Bonifur Hasty, the knight leader of the Hundred Crusades, looked at Timon who stood up.

Timon spitted with disdain. He disdained the knights who were pious in the rumors the most. Bonifur Hasty was one of them, although he was indeed a skilled warrior. In the Royal Forest, he and his nearly 100 pilgrim knights almost defeated all the Lannister troops they met. "I don't want to die in this stinky place!" Timon put away his long sword and walked towards the king's tent.

The tent where Stannis lived was no different from the tents of other soldiers, which at least reduced the possibility of beheading by the enemy.

"I want to see your majesty." Timon said to the guards Stannis brought from Dragonstone.

The guards nodded slightly and turned to go into the tent, and then nodded to Timon outside the tent.

The curtain outside the tent fluttered in the wind, Timon lifted the curtain and strode in.

Stannis sat behind the candle with his back to the king. Timon could not see the king's expression, but only saw a Baratheon crown and stag flag spread out on the chopping board.

Timon bowed slightly, "Your majesty." He called softly, not daring to continue disturbing.

Stannis turned his head, his face was as serious as ever, but at the moment of the war, Timon still saw a trace of solemnity.

"What suggestions do you have? Tell me, Ser Timon."

Timon took a deep breath and swallowed. "It's not your fault that we lost at the Blackwater. Tywin fell into the trap. We were just a little bit away from taking King's Landing and hanging the head of the incestuous child on the tower..."

Stannis interrupted unceremoniously. "None of what you said happened." He moved his body and faced the somewhat nervous Timon. "If you just want to say this, you can leave my tent."

The king's indifferent eyes did not contain any mercy, and his tone was full of rejection.

Timon lowered his head even deeper. "I suggest evacuating. Before the Lannister army cuts off our retreat back to Storm's End, I believe they are already doing it. Now Kevan's army has retreated very deep and must want to trip us up from behind."

He lowered his head and did not look at Stannis's expression. Timon did not want to look into the king's eyes. Although Bonifer, whom he had always despised, was fearless, he still had some fear in his heart.

After waiting for so long that his neck ached, Stannis finally responded.

"Gather all the horses and break out to the northwest."

Northwest? Isn't that where Tywin's army assembled? Timon suppressed his surprise and slowly retreated, without even saying anything to object.

The morning light slightly spread out a corner in the sky, but the flag of the Crowned Stag rose early.

"The king is crazy, and so is his army." Timon looked at Bonifur, who was commanding the Hundred-Man Crusade, and sneered.

"Your tongue is a favor given to you by the Seven Gods until now," Bonifur held the reins and stabilized the warhorse under his crotch, "Cherish this favor, Timon, otherwise," he looked at the broken sword on Timon's waist, "like this sword, it will be broken into pieces of meat."

Bonifur raised his hand lightly, and nearly a hundred knights behind him followed, and the earth was still shaking faintly.

Timon couldn't help but look at the central army. King Stannis had just climbed onto his horse, and his expression remained unchanged, as expressionless as ever.

"All lunatics are like this," Timon cursed, waving his reins in anger, and all his cavalry followed behind him.

The banner of the crowned stag gradually emerged from the narrow bushes and headed for the wider woodland, and even to the plain outside the Kingswood where the Lannister army had originally camped.