For this campaign to the east, the soldiers of the Crabb domain had turned out nearly in full force: 100 Crabb house guards, 400 men of the Thorn Corps, 100 men of the Crabb Longbow Corps, and 200 men of the Crabb Spearman Corps—800 combatants in total.
Combined with 300 auxiliary troops in charge of logistics, the force totaled 1,100 men.
House Crabb had not seen a military campaign of this scale in over a decade, and Lord Green could clearly feel the surge of excitement among his men.
Under the lord’s command, Steward Hershel gathered as much dried meat as possible from across the territory.
Once all provisions were arranged, the Crabb Legion set out toward the east.
*** The fourth day of the march brought their first engagement of the campaign.
After a month of continuous training, the Crabb longbowmen were far more seasoned; a few volleys of arrows shattered the charge of some five hundred mountain wildlings.
Near dusk that same day, several veteran house guards finally reached their boiling point.
The continuous march had already exhausted them, and despite today’s victory, there was still no ale, no camp followers, and they were forbidden from touching the prisoners.
It was not that they were disloyal to their lord, but the abrupt shift away from their old habits had built up frustration, resentment, and pent-up anger.
Paired with their naturally volatile tempers, the dam broke.
The loud, rowdy men failed to understand that such insubordination could throw the entire camp into chaos.
Military orders were absolute.
Green knew well that softness had no place in command.
To swiftly eradicate bad habits that impaired battle readiness, his discipline over the soldiers would only grow stricter.
*** Sensing the commotion outside, Green grabbed his riding crop, walked out of his tent, and mounted his horse.
On the way, he snatched a spear from a nearby soldier and hurled it without hesitation at the loudest house guard.
With a sharp whistle, the spear punched through the guard’s chest and burst out his back.
The immense force carried the man back several meters until the spear impaled itself deep into the dirt, its haft still quivering.
The surrounding soldiers gasped in unison, and silence fell instantly over the camp.
*Clop, clop, clop…* Only the slow, rhythmic sound of hooves remained.
Green twitched the reins, and his horse tossed its head with a soft snort as it paced slowly through the crowd.
Green’s cold, unreadable gaze swept across the crowd.
The pressure was heavy as a mountain, making the soldiers tremble until, one by one, they fell to their knees before him.
Green’s voice rang out far louder than usual.
“I told you that brawling and shouting in camp is forbidden!” “Look at me!
Look at your lord!
The decrees I issue—if anyone dares disobey them, it is an offense against your lord.
And there is only one outcome for offending your lord: death!” Living in the isolated enclave of Crackclaw Point, the smallfolk of the Crabb domain were undeniably backward.
Explaining *why* he wanted to reform their vicious habits would fall on deaf ears—talking too much might only confuse them.
Since they could not comprehend it through words, there was no need for tedious explanations.
He only needed to make them remember through their flesh: the lord’s law was absolute.
“I will say it once more: as long as the soldiers of House Crabb are at war, there is no ale and there are no women!” “In wartime, there is only obedience to law!” “Win the war, and I will reward you richly!
I will reward your bravery, and I will reward your discipline!
Farmland, houses, fine food, good wine…” Green pointed his riding crop at the soldiers closest to him.
“You few, stand up and answer me.” The men he pointed at stood up, trembling.
“Answer me: do you understand?
Can you obey the law?” They answered in a panicked rush.
“Yes, my lord!” “We can!” “I swear it!” Green pointed to another group and asked the same question.
“Louder!
Have I not fed you well?
Shout it out for me!
Obey the lord’s law!” “Obey the lord’s law!” “Obey the lord’s law!” “Obey the lord’s law!” The soldiers’ shouts grew increasingly unified, rising wave upon wave!
A faint smile finally stirred on Green’s previously cold, expressionless face.
Green then ordered an extra ration of meat for the soldiers’ dinner.
The soldiers, having just strained their vocal cords pledging loyalty, burst into cheers again despite their raw throats.
*** As the Crabb soldiers advanced, the mountain wildling tribes finally realized that a single tribe could not face this army alone.
In haste, several large tribes formed a coalition.
A tribal coalition of over three thousand mountain wildlings blanketed the hills across from them.
To rhythmic commands, the Crabb Spearman Corps orderly formed a three-tier defensive phalanx.
The Crabb house guards divided into two fifty-man groups, anchoring both flanks of the spear formation.
Behind the defensive line stood the five hundred men of the Thorn Corps and the Crabb Longbow Corps.
The wildlings sounded their war horns and launched a wild charge.
Each Crabb longbowman carried forty arrows.
As the three thousand mountain wildlings entered effective longbow range over two hundred yards away, a baptism of arrow rain awaited them.
*** From Whispers Castle, two Septons of The Seven who had requested to march with the army stood watching the battlefield, profoundly shocked.
“This is no longer a battle between equals…” “Indeed.
If the Crabb bowmen numbered ten thousand, they would be invincible.” “After remaining dormant for over a decade, this house is poised to rise under its young lord.
Without outside interference, all of Crackclaw Point will fall into his hands sooner or later.” “Have you decided to intervene?
If so, I will contact the Great Sept in King’s Landing as soon as possible.
Or perhaps we could try contacting the Hand of the King, Lord Jon, directly—he might care more about this region.” “However, I would venture to offer a word of advice.
Crackclaw Point is a land of the First Men; they never trust outsiders, and the Old Gods run deep here.
Yet the young lord is willing to lean on us and support us.
He needs stable rule after the war, and he welcomes the light of The Seven.” “…” “He has conditions!” “Oh?
Besides bringing the holy light to suffering mortals, what else can septons offer?
The pitiful few copper stars in a poor septon’s pocket?” “You misunderstand.
Not copper stars, and certainly not Gold Dragons.
He wants the right to appoint and dismiss the domain’s high septon!
Ha, that is a power reserved for kings!” “The prize is far too tempting.
If we secure the young lord’s support, all of Crackclaw Point will enter the embrace of The Seven.
That would be a monumental achievement—a new chapter in the history of our faith.” “It truly is an offer hard to refuse.”