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The abandoned fishing village lay on the south bank of the mouth of the Trident River. Three leagues upstream, on the north bank, stood the town of Saltworks. An island called Silent Island sat in the middle of the river.
When Ser Daeron Targaryen arrived here with his caravan, the entire abandoned fishing village remained eerily silent, much like it had been for the thousands of days and nights since that cloudy afternoon fourteen years ago.
That afternoon marked a tale that began shortly after the Battle of the Trident. A group of valley cavalry had been chasing the remnants of the royalists who had been defeated at Ruby Beach. They rode eastward, and when they passed by this once-thriving fishing village, they decided to pillage it.
To prevent the "honor-above-all" Duke Arryn from being held accountable later, they looted the village and massacred its inhabitants, leaving no one alive.
The abandoned fishing village was surrounded by wetlands overgrown with weeds. The path that once led to it had become barely noticeable, thanks to the river's repeated high tides over the past decade.
Under Ser Daeron's orders, the caravan of twenty-eight people halted about 800 yards outside the village. His squire, alone, left the group, pushing through the thick weeds that had nearly blocked the way, and headed towards the fishing village.
The squire carefully navigated the muddy, slippery path and made his way to the entrance of the village, where he confirmed the secret signal with a guard. He then returned cautiously to Ser Daeron's side.
Once it was confirmed that nothing unexpected had occurred, Ser Daeron ordered the caravan to dismount and proceed toward the village.
"Darren, have you noticed? This path is much muddier than the last time we came," Sir Shireen Baratheon remarked on the way. "It's not flood season now, and the tide shouldn't have risen. Why is the ground so soft and soaked?"
"Perhaps it rained heavily while we were away," Ser Daeron suggested.
"Maybe," Sir Shireen Baratheon replied, shaking his head, "but I still feel uneasy. And why hasn't Ser Arya Stars come out to greet us this time? I reminded him about his duties last time, yet he didn't seem to take them seriously."
"Oh, Uncle Shireen Baratheon, please forgive Arya," Ser Daeron said, defending his friend. "He's lost his sword hand. He was once the strongest among us, our vanguard officer, but now he can only assist with logistics. You must allow him time to adjust to this loss."
"But not now, young master," Sir Shireen Baratheon insisted, turning to face Daeron. "Do you remember the vow you made when you left Seagull Town? You swore you wouldn't let your family be dragged into this mess."
"Yes, I remember," Ser Daeron said quietly.
"But now, Ser Arya's carelessness could be dangerous. He may drag us into trouble. I urge you to remove him from this mission."
"Uncle Shireen Baratheon, please," Ser Daeron pleaded. "Arya is not my subordinate. He represents the Darry family—our most important ally. How could I replace him?"
He smiled bitterly and added, "And what could go wrong? Our mission is nearly over. We only need to move everything to the village and board the ship waiting for us. Then we'll be gone."
"Have you forgotten the nearly one hundred men Sir Wilder has posted around here? They're eager to kill us."
"Come on," Daeron scoffed. "If I didn't fear that killing them would attract too much attention and delay our transport, I would have followed Arya's advice and set an ambush to wipe them out."
"I don't know what they're worried about. They're just a bunch of fools who've been played by Simon," Daeron said with a contemptuous tone. "If Wilder were to call on his entire Knight Alliance, maybe we'd have a real problem on our hands."
"But for now? Oh, do you know what his plan is? That idiot Simon made it clear in his letter: the heavy infantry and crossbowmen Wilder is relying on to hold his line all come from Darry City! Hahaha!" Daeron couldn't help but laugh. "I'm already looking forward to the look on Wilder's face when Sir Simon strikes them from behind."
"Master, don't you think it's too quiet here?" Sir Shireen Baratheon wasn't swayed by Daeron's confidence. He remained on high alert, scanning the surroundings. "And just now, 'Rice Bug' also changed the password after exchanging signals. We're retreating to an abandoned fishing village… I don't like this. Something feels wrong."
"How could that be?" Daeron replied, though he suppressed his smile. Sir Shireen Baratheon's instincts were usually spot on. The old knight had once claimed his intuition saved him twice during the Usurper War.
"Everyone, stop!" Daeron ordered. The caravan halted before the entrance to the village. He turned to his attendants. "Take two men and check the situation in the village."
The squire dismounted and led two men toward the village.
"Rice Bug! Little Rosie, why aren't you coming out to greet us?" Daeron's attendant shouted toward the fishing village. But instead of the familiar voices of his old friends, they were met with the sharp, deadly hiss of arrows.
Suddenly, a dozen archers appeared on the rooftops of the ruined houses, releasing a volley of arrows at the caravan from above.
The first three men to enter the village were caught in the deadly barrage. A feathered arrow struck Squire Daeron in the neck, piercing his throat before he could even react. The two other cavalrymen beside him were also cut down by the hail of arrows.
"Enemy attack!" Sir Shireen Baratheon was the first to react. He shouted as he ripped the shield off his horse. Raising it above his head, he dashed to the side of the caravan, seeking cover behind a cart that held a crossbow. He intended to return fire at the enemies on the rooftops.
But as Shireen Baratheon to lift the cloth covering the cart, he saw a large group of infantry charging out of the village, shields raised, heading straight for the caravan.
"We need to put distance between us and them!" Shireen yelled, tossing the crossbow aside. He sprinted back toward his horse, shouting to Daeron, "We can't use our cavalry here!"
"What should we do with the goods?" Daeron asked, glancing toward the advancing infantry. The enemy soldiers, holding spears and shields, formed a shield wall, pressing forward. "Do we just leave them? What if they don't chase us and instead pull everything back to the village to defend it?"
The enemy spearmen may have been a disorganized group, but in the narrow terrain, they still posed a deadly threat to Daeron's warriors.
And that wasn't even counting the long-range fire support behind them.
What happened? Where's Aris? Daeron looked toward the fishing village, a sense of unease creeping into his thoughts.