Night raid on Torturer's Deep

Guided by Rollo Uhoris, the fleet headed into the northern waters.

The Dragon Spirit Guardians took over the four captured Oared Ships and followed behind the flagship.

Their hulls had suffered badly in the earlier collisions. With cracked planks and dented gunwales, they resembled old sharks stripped of their teeth.

Rollo gazed at his own Oared Ship, the most badly damaged of all, and clicked his tongue in distress. "My lord, these ships... especially my Pebble Cat, will need major repairs after this voyage. Otherwise, they won't be fit to sail again."

He pointed at the great hole smashed into its side. "She may be small, but she's faster than the other three."

"The Pebble Cat?"

Liu Qian's gaze swept over the battered ship, his brow furrowing slightly. A long-buried name suddenly surfaced in his mind. "What's your connection to 'Blind Bastard' Rollo Uhoris? Why do you have the same name, and even the same ship name?"

Rollo jolted. Beneath his chestnut beard, his expression grew difficult to read. After a moment's silence, he said quietly, "He was my father. Over ten years ago, the Night's Watch hanged him at Eastwatch-by-the-Sea... After that, I renamed my ship the Pebble Cat, after his."

"You want revenge? But your father broke the laws of the Seven Kingdoms."

Liu Qian saw the hatred flash in Rollo's eyes and spoke without mincing words.

That "Blind Bastard," Rollo Uhoris, had been a notorious smuggler and pirate on the Narrow Sea. He had traded weapons with the Wildlings before the Night's Watch fleet captured and executed him.

Rollo lifted his bearded chin, defiance flashing in his eyes. "Fuck the laws of the Seven Kingdoms. He was the only father I had."

As the two spoke, the sky gradually darkened.

The deep-blue heavens hung low, and the sea wind shredded the gulls' raucous cries.

Ahead of them, jagged black reefs emerged silently from the water like the fangs of monsters.

The Stepstones had no shortage of scattered islands and submerged reefs. Those unfamiliar with its channels usually ran aground or capsized.

Rollo rallied himself and called out to several sailors who knew these waters. Under his command, the fleet slipped nimbly past one deadly trap after another, as though threading a needle.

When a solitary stone pillar, seventy or eighty feet tall and coated in thick, dark-brown bird droppings, loomed into view, Rollo pointed at it. "My lord, that's the Guano Pillar. Torturer's Deep is just a little farther ahead."

"Halt. Lower the sails," Liu Qian ordered decisively. "We'll wait until it's darker."

The fleet floated silently like ghosts on the dark sea, waiting from the Bat Hour at sunset until the dead stillness of the Wolf Hour.

The ink-black night was thick as congealed grease. Heavy clouds hid most of the stars, and only a few wan shafts of moonlight occasionally pierced the gaps, scattering broken flecks of silver over the waves.

The low, monotonous slap of water against the hulls masked the impending slaughter.

"Move." Liu Qian's voice was low, but everyone beside him heard it clearly.

With Rollo guiding them precisely, the fleet slipped around the foul-smelling Guano Pillar, and the menacing face of Torturer's Deep suddenly came into view.

Two enormous black rocks rose hundreds of feet before them, almost vertical, as though cleaved apart by a giant axe.

Countless ages of waves and biting winds had eroded their inner faces into jagged walls riddled with deep fissures, sharp overhangs, and honeycomb-like holes, leaving only a narrow, twisting gap between them.

That cleft was the only waterway into Torturer's Deep.

Across the channel, heavy iron chains were stretched taut by enormous winches, forming a crude but practical gate.

Liu Qian stood on the Swan's sterncastle, gazing into the dark cleft that seemed to swallow everything.

He turned to Rollo, the corner of his mouth curling upward. "Rollo, do you want to save your family? Here's your chance."

Rollo stiffened, his chestnut beard trembling slightly. "My lord... what do you mean?"

"Your four ships will lead the way. I'll take my men into Torturer's Deep with you," Liu Qian said in a voice that brooked no argument. "When we reach the gate, tell Crab Claw's men that you've returned laden with loot, and that you also happened to 'pick up' a fat merchant ship that had lost its way. You need him to lower the chains and let you in. Remember, make it convincing. Your life, the lives of your surviving Tyroshi sailors, and your family's lives all hang on what you say."

Rollo's face turned deathly pale, then a desperate, reckless madness took its place.

He understood. This was his only way out.

He drew a deep breath and forced his hunched back straight. A flicker of the cunning and ruthlessness peculiar to outlaws appeared in his eyes. "...Understood, my lord! I'll make that fool Crab Claw open the gate willingly!"

Soon, the sailing ship disguised as a freighter was singled out.

Liu Qian boarded the first Oared Ship with Rollo, Jelena, and all the Dragon Spirit Guardians, while Janice stayed outside to watch the other ships.

The Dragon Spirit Guardians wore sailors' clothes over their armor, and several captured, somewhat battered merchant flags were deliberately hung out as signs of their "spoils."

Rollo stood at the bow, struggling to steady his breathing and suppress his fear, trying to recover his old swagger as a pirate captain.

Several pirate Oared Ships followed close behind the Pebble Cat, advancing silently toward the entrance to the channel.

Outside the entrance, which resembled the fangs of an enormous beast, the Pebble Cat rose and fell with the waves.

Rollo Uhoris stood at the bow, his heart pounding.

He shouted toward the dark cleft in a tone of triumphant excitement, his voice twisting and echoing between the rock walls:

"Hey-are you bastards up there blind? It's me, Rollo Uhoris! The Pebble Cat! Open up! Hurry!"

He paused, adding a hoarse note of "grief" to his voice. "Fuck, we ran into some tough bastards. Lost a lot of brothers. The Pebble Cat's nearly been smashed to pieces!"

Then his voice suddenly rose, brimming with wild delight. "But it was worth it this time! Rich pickings! Spices! Silk! And dozens of fucking chests of Westerosi Golden Dragons!"

He slapped the gunwale hard, producing a dull thud, then turned toward the shadows and made an exaggerated gesture of "lifting a chest."

"And we scooped up another lost little lamb along the way-a spice ship from Lys! She'd struck a reef, and her crew had pissed themselves in fear! She's about to sink, but the cargo's still aboard. She's right behind me!"

He pointed at the indistinct outline of the ship in the darkness behind him. "Hurry up and open the gate! Let us in! Our lads are wounded, and the ships won't hold out much longer! The waves are too rough! Keep us waiting, and the ships will sink and feed all that gold to the fish! Hurry

"! There's a share for everyone!"

The original Tyroshi sailors aboard joined in with a few weary but excited howls, waving the "Lys" flags they had hung out.

On a narrow rocky platform above the channel entrance, several pirate guards were roused by the horn and the shouting.

A scar-faced man who looked like their leader narrowed his eyes, carefully studying the ships below by torchlight and the faint reflections on the water.

"That's Rollo's voice, all right..." one guard muttered.

"It's the Pebble Cat, but..." The scar-faced man's eyes were sharp as a hawk's. He pointed at the enormous, ugly splits near the Pebble Cat's waterline. "Those wounds aren't right. They look like damage from another ship ramming her. Could raiding a merchant ship leave her like that? And that ship behind her is too quiet! Wait, the waterline... These ships are riding too low. Either they're packed with cargo... or they're packed with men!"

His suspicions mounting, the scar-faced man immediately growled at one of his men, "Quick, go tell the boss Rollo's back with a 'fat prize,' but his ships are suspiciously battered and riding low. Let the boss decide."

The man scrambled toward a passage inside the rock wall.

The scar-faced man leaned out and shouted down, "Rollo, the boss will be here soon! Wait there! The sea's rough, so keep her steady!"

He was stalling.

Deep inside Torturer's Deep, in the "hall" of an enormous sea cave, Crab Claw had just been woken and was irritably swigging cheap liquor.

The scar-faced man's underling rushed in, panting. "Boss! Rollo's back with a big, fat prize, but... but the Pebble Cat's badly damaged. Looks like other ships rammed her, and there may be a lot of men hiding aboard. It could be a trap!"

Crab Claw sobered instantly, a vicious gleam filling his eyes.

He sprang to his feet, the tattoos on his bald head twitching. "That little shit Rollo... trying to screw me over?"

His mouth split into a cruel grin. "Fine. Let's see what game he's playing! Pass the word: lower the chains and let them in! Have every archer hide in the caves and on the walkways high up on both sides of the channel. Once they're all inside, wait for my command, then shoot the bastards dead! Leave no one alive. I want to see who's got such a fucking death wish that they'd come after Torturer's Deep."