[u][b]The Roseroad.[/b][/u](with [@MrDidact])

Alester's eyes widened for a split second, before letting out a curse under his breath. The lull of the travel had almost made him forget what was the reason for this mission: These so called Gardenerers had waited to lay the ambush in the worst possible moment. The caravan was swollen with smallfolk and civilians. And damn him, he had told them to accompany him. He knew they would be in danger for the sake of luring the Gardeners.

He gripped his reins as he heard the screams of men and women surrounding him. Such was the price of lordship. After a first volley of archers, they sent their troops in a pincer movement when his own retinue was in disarray. A fast hit and run strike, but one that belied an effort of planning. He would have dwelled more on the subject, had he not been in the sights of one of the Greenhand pretenders bent on goring his horse. Given his position he couldn't counterattack, and he would most likely kill his mount if he followed course. He gritted his teeth, spurring his horse to stand on his hind legs, therefore avoiding the tip of the spear that was aiming at him, and then crashing the hooves on the head of the other knight as he passed by.

"Get your bearings! Use the carts to shield yourselves from the charge. Raise spears! Watch out for their archers!" He yelled at the top of his lungs.

The knight fell out of the saddle, his helm dented by the hooves of the horse and he fell to the ground in a heap. The soldiers and knights ran to proceed with Alester's orders. The peasants hid behind the defensive spear and shield lines that quickly but professionally sprouted, the warriors using the wagons as additional cover. They managed to get into position right before the Gardener knights charged them. 

There was a great clash of steel and a few Gardener's had their mounts speared from under them or were pushed from their seats. Some men-at-arms had Gardner lances in their necks or were split open by longswords. The line buckled but it held, and the arrows commenced in earnest once more, landing among the wagons and the defensive line. 

Behind the knights came even more men on foot, charging with swords and axes and mauls. Six men all charged at Alester, shouting at the top of their lungs and lunging at the Florent lord, intending to knock him from his seat. 

Alester cursed under his breath"Arthur, get your ass here". As he eyed the new wave of invaders, he stirred his horse. "Lance!" He yelled to one of the carts, which yielded him his battlefield lance. He briefly pondered wether to fight back with his full skill or allow himself to be captured, so the civilians would be spared. But even if he was, the attack would probably not cease. He stirred his horse once more, making it spin on its own, and then spurred it into action, trying to start a charge alongside the line of carts. "Cavalry, regroup and attack them while they are swamped. Use melee weapons and bows to repel the infantry if need be!" He yelled as he gripped his reins tightly. 

The guardsmen strung bows and began firing at the advancing infantry, downing several as the pikemen lashed out at the knights, who began running up and down the line to try and find weakspots while others kept trading blows with the spearmen. The loyalist knights regrouped and they charged out from the spear lines, clashing with the other knights or running down men-at-arms. Suddenly there was horn and the Gardener arrow barrage started to lighten. Now more arrows rained down, but on the Gardener infantry. Each arrow expertly found its mark and Arthur Glenmore charged onto the field with a squad of knights, running over dozens of men and joining the fray. The battle had now become equal and became a pitched fight and not a one-sided ambush. 

Dozens on both sides were dead, and many more civillians were killed with countless wounded. The half dozen infantrymen who charged at Alester lashed out at the lord with their weapons, one man going for his horse while the other tried to hack at his sword arm. They obviously intended to take him alive. 

Alester muttered under his breath. "Sorry." He muttered an apology, as he purposefully made a priority to keep his sword arm over his horse. He jumped out of the mount to avoid being crushed by the wounded animal, and he broke his lance on the head of one of the assailants.

"You want my sword arm. So you shall have it."He muttered, his voice trembling on barely contained anger. Why so many civilians had to die...He cursed at them and at himself... and let his swordsmanship loose. He danced, parried, and flung, a swathe of cuts in every direction, sparing no one of his fine swordsmanship. His fierce blows not allowing any Gardener infantry to even come close, lest they were cut into ribbons by his slashes.

They were taken aback by the skill of their quarry and four more men had died before the last surviving infantryman backed away in fright. Suddenly a knight came into view. He had a sword and shield, and a dented helm. Obviously the knight that Alester had thrown from his horse. The man roared and charged at Lord Florent with his metal buckler, intending to smash the Fox Lord in the face with the rim and cut at his leg with the sword. 

Alester grinned under his helmet, his carefully crafted fox visor splattered in the blood of the fallen, as the new challenger arrived. He jumped sideways, as if his legs were springs, allowing the knight to pass through.... his bladed levelled at the neck height. He was gripping his blade with both arms, and given the speed of the other knight was charging...The fountain of blood that sprouted was a sight to behave as he sliced the neck of the knight clean, Alester's own helmet now becoming a bright red.

There was a crash of impact as the last man at arms jumped on Alester and tried to wrestle his sword away from him, angling him towards another knight who quickly loaded a crossbow and aimed right at his knee, taking a moment to center the shot. Behind him several pikemen advanced with spears leveled, trying to circle around. 

"You want me that badly, sers?" Alester gritted his teeth... and he let his blade go. They probably weren't expecting that. Nor the glint of valyrian steel that followed. In such close quarters, Knightslayer sung, digging itself deep in the flesh of men with a flurry of stabs in the joints and chinks of the armor of his opponents, allowing Alester a reprieve. He took one of his strugglers by the decorations of his armor and used him as improptu crossbow shield, as he kept stabbing and struggling.

The man grappling with Alester sagged limply after being stabbed and made no reaction as the crossbow thumped into him. The knight cursed and holstered the weapon, taking out his sword and telling the spearmen to advance. The men surrounded Alester and lowered spears, attempting to prod the man and harass him, wound him. There was a clack of hooves and Arthur rode by, his sword flashing against the Gardener knight and sending the man reeling after parrying a blow while his horse kicked one spearman's head in, a dagger flying from Arthur's free hand to bury itself in the neck of another spearman. 

Alester's breath quickened. He had been taken away by the fury of the battle, as his eyes went wide under his helmet. But somewhere, somehow, he still reigned himself in, and allowed him to reassert the situation. A spear circle. Normally this would spell his end, but his sight caught Arthur appearing from nowhere and starting to slay spearmean. He muttered mentally a heartfelt thanking to the knight, as he redoubled his effort. Seizing still the corpse of the Gardener infantryman, he charged the spear line with it thus rendering several spears ineffective, as he used the lump of flesh to blunt their tips and break through, taking some wounds in the process.

He still needed a sword, though, muttering as he held the woefully short but deadly Knightslayer in hand. 

As he pushed through, there was a stab of pain as one of the spearmen managed to jab Alester in the shoulder, scoring a minor wound before Arthur lopped off his head with his longsword. The Knight Inquisitor jumped off of his horse and slammed into another man, stabbing the soldier next to him before planting another dagger in the eye of the man beneath him. 

"Catch!" 

Arthur picked up one of the fallen swords and tossed it at Alester as the other spearmen either stood off with Arthur or began rushing for the Fox Lord, trying to jab at his shoulders and legs. 

Alester nodded sternly, as he grabbed the sword with a flourish and got ready for the spearmen charge. His shoulder was aching, but he held together. Sheathing Knightslayer, he he examined the situation. Grouped spears had every advantadge against a sword, no matter the approach. This was truly a test of skill. He could fall back, though, but he probably wouldn't be able to find a better matching weapon. He gritted his teeth, both his arms firmly gripping the weapon.

As the tips of the spear poked, Alester swung with all of his might and his fury, a flurry of blows aimed to divert or shatter the spearpoints, putting all his might into the swings. He hoped the weapon weighed enough to shatter the shafts. 

Amazingly, one or two of the spear shafts were shattered by the strength and accuracy behind Alester's swings. The rest of the spears were expertly parried away from the Fox Lord. The two men who had their spears shattered, drew swords and tried to flank Alester on either side as the remaining two spearmen kept jabbing at Alester, trying to force him to give ground. 

Alester gritted his teeth, liberating one of his hands from the grip of his sword. Deftly sidestepped, he purposefully entered the space of one of the swordsmen, to provoke him into a swing, and then, with his off hand, pushed him into the two spearmean with a swift move once more. Without wasting time, he squired to the remaining foot soldier, expertly clashing against his blade with one hand. "You guys are rather inept at fox hunting." He muttered in annoyance.

The man at arms cursed as they traded blows, getting backed up as his friends untangled themselves. Suddenly the man lit up with a broken smile, "Half of hunting is trickery innit?" There was the thundering of hooves and if Alester turned he would see another knight. Unlike the others, the Green Hand was displayed prominently on his breastplate, over his heart. His helm was immacutely wrought silvery plate, and his white cloak flowed in the breeze behind him. He had a shield in one hand, holding a spear in the other and he was bearing down on Alester. 

Alester gritted his teeth. This was really a pitched battle. At least it was himself. That boy Merlin had suggested... wouldn't probably last this long. He thought. One of his arms was shot. He was covered in blood. He was starting to bear the exhaustion of wounds and harassing. But he eyed the knight defiantly. "Archers. Concentrate fire on my position!" He yelled to the troops, unsure if they'd answer, but it would be an equally powerful bluff, as he readied his sword for the knights' charge. His footwork shifted as he stopped swinging, separating himself from the footmen and aiming to cut the the rider on the spear's side. It was a do or die blow. He knew they would want him alive, so they'd refrain from using a killing wound. So he could sidestep that lance, and he executed his move without hesitation.

Several nearby archers strung their bows, and the knight twisted his shield to cover him as arrows embedded into the wood. Alester managed to knock the spear out of the man's hand in the confusion, and the knight wheeled around, retrieving his own sword and trading blows with Alester from his mounted position, all the while deflecting the odd arrow with his shield. The other infantrymen were now engaged with either Arthur or Alester's troops and the fight became a duel between the two knights. The Gardener was quick, precise, strong, and tried to cut Alester's sword from his hands as they clashed. 

Alester smirked underneath. Finally someone on his level, and not the rabble he had fought up until now. Despite the wounds and the heated battle, he felt invigorated, his mind and body cranking up the pace as mentally, his restraints, the very thing that separated him from his most violent impulses eroded. [i]Set me free.[/i] It rang with each of the parries, blows and exchanges, as the toll increased. [i]Set me free. Be liberated. Lay waste to your enemies.[/i] His inner self said. It was then when revelation struck.

One of the blows, the sword flung away from Alester hands. But it had not been fully the knight's imput. It was a well calculated feint. One that Alester exploited to bring his prized Valyrian dagger in an arc. The metallic snap of steel cutting steel was heard, as the Knightslayer lived to its namesake, cutting both sword and sword's arm of the knight in a single stroke, before a second flourish dug deep into the knight's warbeast, sending the horse in pain and hopefully throwing his rider.

With no time to waste, he unembed the dagger, and rolling on the floor, captured his sword once more. "I'd rather capture you alive. Quit while you are ahead." 

The Gardener crashed to the ground as his mount bled, as he fell he managed to kick out at Alester with his boot, denting his chestplate, but still he fell. He crashed into a heap at Alester's feet and looked up at the Fox Lord. He looked around as his men fought with the Florent and Tyrell men, with the Inqusitor's men and the freeriders. They hadn't expected Arthur to ambush them. 

"Give me your word of honor that you will spare myself and my surviving men, tend to our wounds and treat us as befitting a prisoner. Your word, ser." 

"Smallfolk have died." Alester gravely said, gripping his blade. "But you have my word. I shall spare you and your men from further violence and see to your wounded. Now. Give me your name and order your men to surrender." The young lord added, still wary of his surroundings.

The Gardener dropped his sword and said, "I am Ser Owen Gardener, brother to the true Lord of the Reach. Stand down!" Suddenly his knights stopped in the saddle, his men-at-arms ceasing their melee, looking to him. By now scores of men and women had died, smallfolk and soldier both, and the fires had taken a few wagons before the frantic peasants finally stopped them. Ser Owen nodded again and the men began dropping their weapons, dismounting from their horses and holding up their hands in surrender. 

"I kept my word. Will you keep yours?" 

"A little gaudy, ser Owen." Alester narrowed his eyes. "All troops! Stand down! Ser Arthur! The enemy has surrendered! Cease the fight, and start tending to the wounded of both sides!". Alester commanded, as he eyed the Inquisitor. Surely he would not mind giving the same orders, as hard-pressed for clues as he was.  He sheathed his sword, and offered a hand to the Gardener pretender.

Ser Arthur called for the men to stop fighting, and medics rushed to tend to the wounded, while others sorted the Gardener men into ranks of captives. Owen looked at Alester for a moment before taking his hand and rising. He removed his helm to reveal a man who looked quite like a Tyrell. He was young, possibly even younger than Alester though still a man grown, with rich brown curly hair and bright gold-brown eyes, as handsome and fair as any maiden's dream of a Reachman Knight. 

"Will you take us to Highgarden or King's Landing?" 

Alester sighed, removing his helmet, caked with blood and grime, his squinty face and big ears also splattered in blood clots, as he eyed the knight. "You're skilled for your age, it seems." He added as a compliment, surprised that he was this young. His sight rested on Arthur. "I say King's Landing. What do you think, Ser Arthur?" He eyed the Inquisitor awaiting for input.

Ser Owen nodded in polite thanks and said no more. Arthur rode up and said, "I need to return to Highgarden with my men. But this shipment of material needs to reach the capital anyway. I'll call on more bannermen to help escort this shipment and the prisoners, and the Gold Cloaks can help once we enter the Crownlands. I say the shipment rides on to King's Landing. The Small Council will want to quesiton these prisoners. Do you wish to go on to the capital, my lord?" 

Alester looked at the ground as he pondered, his gauntlet firmly planted on his mouth. "So be it, ser. I would rather have you and your men as escort, such a formidable lot they are, but I understand the sake of your mission. I shall take these prisoners to King's landing, thus preventing retaliation from either side. We won't spill more blood in the Reach if we can help it."  He then motioned for him, to whisper in his ear. "I am wary we might suffer a second ambush, this time in full force. See to it." He added, before raising his voice again. "Crows! I need crows! I need messages to be sent to Highgarden, Brightwall and King's Landing." He  concluded, and then paused.

"When was the last time you had a meal, ser Owen?" He asked.

Men rushed to apply his orders, a Half-Maester going to the crow cages to send the messages. Arthur quietly nodded, "We will accompany you until the reinforcements arrive." Then he rode off to see to his men. Owen composed himself well, even for a man who had been defeated, "Not since this morning. I would be honored to lunch with you, Lord Alester. The tales of your skill were not exagerrated." 

He eyed the battlefield, as he sighed. "I hope your men would not mind some horse meat. We have come to have a surplus of it right now." He shook his head as he invited his prisoner to follow him. "I am concerned that such tales exist. I believe I told people to keep their lips sealed." He added as a comment.

Owen nodded grimly, "My men have been used to worse. As for the tales, well, people like to talk. And there are many ways to loosen lips." 

"I should probably not push my luck and count your blessings. Let's get those wounds seen, Ser Owen. I shall do the same with mine and we'll share some wine and a meal." Alester added, eyeing the rest of the troops, as he indicated for Owen to follow him to a healer.

The Gardener knight followed, men being seen too and prisoners collected as the raid ended. 
--------
[b][u]The Stepstones.[/u][/b]

Seran sighed, as he eyed the conversation take part. A very risky maneuver that called for volunteers. Seran had half a mind, his thoughts torn between his worries about the mission finally going awry and the fact that his last stunt had been less than stealthy. Still, he emitted a soft groan when the eager half-blood pup of Lord Bolton jumped at the chance of glory and riches. Less so when the Greyjoy did. She had been a little green back in King's landing with the whole fighting thing, but she had a good head upon her shoulders. She could pull that off. The little Meerenese? He was also a bit surprised. Perhaps she had encouraged her a bit too much. Yet, she seemed somewhat resourceful. Still, he sighed, obscuring his build with rags and cloaks, and using his bruised state to disguise his wholed visage with bandages.

"I'll go aswell. I'll try to be disguised. Worst case, i'll be bait, like last time." Seran added nonchalantly, his eyes drifting to that of Lord Bolton and Arak Snow. [i]You may be a paranoid lordling, but I'll help you keep that eager pup in check for the sake of the mission. Just this once.[/i] He thought as he lingered for a bit, before breaking the stare.