Chapter 53: Wedding Convoy 2

The wind howled through the Redwyne Straits, carrying the salty tang of the sea as Paxter stood on the deck of his ship, *The Arbor Queen*, his eyes scanning the horizon. Dark clouds loomed in the distance, mirroring the tension that had been building in King's Landing for weeks. The convoy bound for the capital had set sail with little incident so far, but the sense of impending danger weighed heavily on Paxter's mind.

Beside him, Ser Martyn Harte watched the waters with the same intensity. The seasoned knight had led the escort for the wine shipment, and though the pirates had yet to make an appearance, Paxter could feel their presence lingering in the air like a storm about to break.

"Any signs?" Paxter asked, breaking the silence.

Ser Martyn shook his head. "None so far, my lord. But the seas have been too quiet. I don't trust it."

Paxter nodded, his jaw set in determination. He had taken personal charge of the convoy, unwilling to leave the shipment to chance with so much at stake. The wedding in King's Landing was fast approaching, and House Redwyne's contribution—fine Arbor wine, renowned across Westeros—would play a key role in the lavish event. But the political unrest in the capital and the increasing boldness of the pirates meant that the journey was fraught with danger.

"We'll stay on course," Paxter said, his tone firm. "But be ready for anything. We can't afford to be caught off guard."

Ser Martyn nodded, turning to bark orders to the men stationed around the ship. The Redwyne fleet was formidable, but Paxter knew that even a single well-coordinated attack could disrupt the entire mission. His thoughts turned to King's Landing and the shifting alliances there. The Tyrells were hanging on by a thread, their influence tied precariously to the volatile Lannister crown. If anything went wrong during the wedding, the consequences could be catastrophic.

As the ship cut through the waves, Paxter's mind wandered to the many contingencies he had put in place. The emissaries he had sent to Braavos and Pentos to secure stronger trade ties were still in negotiations. If all went well, House Redwyne would have an economic lifeline outside of Westeros, but nothing was guaranteed. He knew all too well that trade agreements were fragile things, easily broken by the whims of war and politics.

Suddenly, a sharp cry went up from one of the lookouts perched high in the ship's rigging. "Ships to the east! Pirates!"

Paxter's heart raced as he turned toward the direction the lookout was pointing. On the horizon, faint outlines of ships emerged from the mist, their sails dark and foreboding. The pirates had finally shown themselves.

Ser Martyn rushed to Paxter's side. "It's them, my lord. What are your orders?"

Paxter's mind moved quickly. "Prepare for battle. We'll hold them off long enough for the convoy to break away. I want half our fleet to protect the wine shipment, no matter the cost. We cannot lose those supplies."

Ser Martyn nodded and relayed the orders, his voice carrying across the deck as the crew scrambled to their positions. The sound of swords being drawn and shields being readied filled the air, the tension mounting with every passing second.

As the pirate ships closed in, Paxter could see their banners more clearly—ragged sails adorned with crude symbols, each one bearing the marks of lawlessness. These were no ordinary pirates. They were organized, and likely well-funded, just as Paxter had suspected. Whoever was behind this wanted more than just plunder. They wanted to cripple House Redwyne's trade and disrupt their influence.

The first volley of arrows came from the pirate ships, darkening the sky as they arced toward *The Arbor Queen*. Paxter's men raised their shields just in time, the arrows clattering against them like hailstones. Paxter unsheathed his sword, the steel gleaming in the dim light.

"Hold the line!" Paxter shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos. "We fight for the Reach!"

The pirates' ships were fast, their sleek designs allowing them to close the distance quickly. Grappling hooks flew through the air, latching onto the Redwyne ships as the pirates began boarding. The clash of steel rang out as the first wave of attackers swarmed onto the deck.

Paxter fought at the front, his sword cutting through the first pirate that came his way. The battle was fierce, with the pirates fighting with a reckless abandon that spoke of desperation. But Paxter's men were disciplined, well-trained, and loyal. They fought with precision, pushing back the pirates with every strike.

As the battle raged on, Paxter spotted the pirate captain—a tall, scarred man with a cruel grin—leading his men toward the heart of the ship. Paxter's eyes narrowed. This was no ordinary raid. The pirates were after something specific.

"The wine!" Paxter realized, his voice urgent. "They're going for the cargo hold! Protect the barrels!"

Ser Martyn rushed to defend the hold, but the pirate captain had already reached the cargo. Paxter fought his way through the melee, his sword clashing with those of the pirate raiders as he carved a path toward the captain. He could see the man directing his crew to seize the barrels, a clear sign that this raid had been carefully planned.

"You're not taking a single barrel off this ship," Paxter growled as he approached the pirate captain, his sword raised.

The pirate captain turned, his grin widening. "Ah, Lord Redwyne himself. I've heard much about you."

Paxter wasted no time in exchanging pleasantries. He lunged at the captain, their swords clashing with a ringing sound. The pirate captain was fast, deflecting Paxter's strikes with ease, but Paxter was stronger, each blow landing with the force of years of discipline and practice.

The two men circled each other, the battle raging around them as the Redwyne soldiers clashed with the pirate raiders. Paxter could feel the weight of the battle pressing down on him, but he knew that victory here meant more than just surviving—it meant securing the future of his house.

With a powerful strike, Paxter forced the pirate captain back, disarming him with a swift move. The man stumbled, his grin fading as he realized he had underestimated his opponent.

"Who sent you?" Paxter demanded, his sword at the captain's throat. "Who's behind this?"

The pirate captain spat blood, laughing even as defeat loomed. "You think I'd tell you? You're just one piece in a much larger game, Lord Redwyne. But soon enough, you'll see. This world is changing."

Paxter's eyes narrowed, but before he could press further, the captain made a sudden move, pulling a hidden dagger from his belt. Paxter reacted quickly, driving his sword into the man's chest before he could strike.

The pirate captain fell, his laughter silenced as his body slumped to the deck. Paxter stood over him, breathing heavily as the sounds of battle continued to echo around him.

With the captain dead, the pirates began to lose their resolve. One by one, they were driven back, retreating to their ships as the Redwyne forces pushed them into the sea. The battle had been won, but the victory felt hollow. Whoever had orchestrated this attack was still out there, and the game was far from over.

As the pirate ships fled into the mist, Paxter looked out over the waters, his mind racing. He had protected the wine, but the threat to his house remained. The pirates had been well-organized, well-funded, and dangerously close to achieving their goal.

"We need to find out who's behind this," Paxter said, turning to Ser Martyn. "This was no ordinary raid. Someone wants to disrupt our trade, and they're willing to go to great lengths to do it."

Ser Martyn nodded grimly. "We'll find them, my lord. Whoever they are, they've made an enemy of House Redwyne."

As the crew worked to repair the damage and prepare the convoy to continue its journey, Paxter's thoughts turned once again to King's Landing. The storm was still gathering, and the wedding would soon take place. Whatever lay ahead, Paxter knew that House Redwyne had to be ready for anything.