For this Eastward Advance, the soldiers of the Crabb lands marched out in full force: 100 Crabb clansmen, 400 from the Thorn Company, 100 from the Crabb Longbow Company, and 200 from the Crabb Spearmen Company.
A total of 800 combat troops, plus 300 auxiliaries for the supply train, bringing the host to 1,100 men.
It had been a long time since the Crabb lands had seen a campaign of this scale.
The excitement among the men was palpable, but Grim remained perfectly calm.
*What a bunch of country bumpkins.* Grim felt a brief moment of disdain.
To Grim, a clash of this size was nothing more than a village brawl.
On the fourth day of the march came the first skirmish of the Eastward Advance.
After a month of continuous training, the Crabb longbowmen had grown far more seasoned.
A few volleys were all it took to utterly break a charge of some five hundred mountain wildlings.
Yet, as dusk approached that day, a few veteran clansmen finally erupted.
The relentless marching was exhausting enough.
Today they had won a battle, yet there was still no ale, no camp followers, and they were forbidden from touching the captives.
It wasn’t a lack of loyalty to their lord.
It was simply that too many of their old habits had been abruptly upended.
Displeasure, dissatisfaction, and pent-up frustration, combined with their naturally volatile tempers, finally boiled over.
The few rowdy men had no idea that such behavior could spark a full-blown mutiny in the camp.
Military orders were absolute.
Grim knew well that a soft heart could not command an army.
To stamp out these detrimental habits as quickly as possible, his demands for discipline would only grow stricter.
Noticing the commotion outside, Grim strode out of his tent, riding crop in hand, and swiftly mounted his horse.
Along the way, he snatched a spear from a nearby soldier and, without a moment’s hesitation, hurled it at the loudest of the shouting clansmen.
With a sharp *thwack*, the spear pierced the man’s chest and burst out his back.
The sheer force of the throw lifted him off his feet, sending him flying several yards before the spear drove deep into the earth, pinning the corpse as the shaft quivered.
The breath caught in the throats of the gathered soldiers.
A sudden, dead silence fell over the camp.
*Clip-clop, clip-clop.* The only sound left was the slow, rhythmic thud of hooves.
Grim gave the reins a slight flick.
His mount tossed its head with a snort and began to pace slowly through the parted crowd.
Grim’s unwavering gaze swept over the men.
A heavy, suffocating pressure bore down on them like a mountain.
Trembling, the soldiers dropped to their knees before their lord, one after another.
Grim’s voice rang out, much louder than usual.
“I told you, there is to be no brawling or shouting in this camp!” “Look at me.
Look at your lord.
If you dare defy the laws I decree, it is an offense against your lord.
And there is only one consequence for offending your lord—death!” Isolated within Crackclaw Point, the smallfolk of the Crabb lands were undeniably backward.
If Grim tried to explain *why* he was stamping out what he deemed bad habits, they wouldn’t understand a word; too much talking would only confuse them.
Since they couldn’t grasp the reasoning, there was no point wasting breath on explanations.
He simply had to make them remember it in their bones: the lord’s law was absolute.
“I will say it once more.
For the soldiers of House Crabb, while we are at war, there is no ale, and there are no women!” “In war, there is only obedience to the law!” “Win the war, and I will reward you handsomely.
I will reward your valor, and I will reward your obedience!
Lands, houses, fine food, good ale…” Grim pointed his riding crop at the soldiers kneeling closest to him.
“You lot.
Stand up and answer me.” The singled-out men rose, trembling.
“Answer me.
Do you understand?
Can you obey the law?” They hastily replied over one another, “Yes, my lord,” “We can,” “I swear it.” Grim pointed to another group and asked the same question.
“Louder!
Have I not fed you well enough?
Shout it for me!
Obey the lord’s law!” “Obey the lord’s law!” “Obey the lord’s law!” “Obey the lord’s law!” “Obey the lord’s law!” “Obey the lord’s law!” “Obey the lord’s law!” The soldiers’ shouts grew more unified, the roar of their voices rising wave after wave.
A faint smile finally rippled across Grim’s previously cold, expressionless face.
Grim then ordered extra meat for the men’s supper.
Having just screamed themselves hoarse pledging their resolve to their lord, the soldiers ignored their aching throats and erupted into cheers.
As the Crabb forces advanced, the mountain wildling tribes finally realized that this army was not a force a single tribe could face alone.
In their haste, several large tribes banded together to form an alliance.
An allied host of over three thousand mountain wildlings swarmed the hillsides opposite them.
To the sound of rhythmic commands, the Crabb Spearmen Company formed a disciplined, three-deep defensive formation.
The Crabb clansmen split into two groups of fifty, anchoring the flanks of the spearmen’s line.
Behind the defensive line stood the five hundred archers of the Thorn Company and the Crabb Longbow Company.
The wildling horns blew, and the charge began.
Each Crabb longbowman carried forty arrows.
The moment the three thousand charging mountain wildlings crossed the two-hundred-yard mark into effective longbow range, they would face a baptism of twenty thousand arrows.
The two septons of the Seven, who had requested to join the march back at the Whispers, stared at the battlefield in absolute shock.
“This is no longer a battle between equals…” “Indeed.
If Crabb were to field ten thousand of these bowmen, they would be invincible.” “After lying dormant for over a decade, this house is poised to rise under its young lord.
Without outside intervention, all of Crackclaw Point will fall into his hands sooner or later.” “Have you decided to intervene?
If so, I will contact the High Septon in King’s Landing at once.
Or perhaps we should try reaching out directly to the Hand of the King, Lord Jon.
He might be more concerned with this region.” “But I would make bold to advise against it.
Crackclaw Point is the land of the First Men; they have never trusted outsiders.
The roots of the old gods run deep here.
The young lord is more than willing to support us.
He needs stable rule after the war, and he desires the light of the Seven to shine upon his lands.” “…” “He has conditions!” “Oh?
Aside from bringing the light of the gods to a suffering world, what else can we septons do?
Does he want the pitiful few copper stars in a poor brother’s pocket?” “You misunderstand.
Not copper stars, and certainly not golden dragons.
He wants the right to appoint and dismiss the septons in his domain!
Hah, that is a power belonging to kings!” “The cheese is truly tempting.
If we gain the young lord’s support, all of Crackclaw Point will be brought into the embrace of the Seven.
That would be a monumental achievement, a new chapter in the history of our Faith.” “It is a proposal that is truly hard to refuse.”