In the year 299 after the Conquest, following the death of King Robert Baratheon, the flames of war burned across more than half of Westeros. But without question, the heart of the war lay in the Crownlands, where King's Landing stood.
The Stormlands vanguard moved through the Kingswood like a glittering river of gold, silver, and steel. This vast forest stretched along Blackwater Bay and blocked the road to King's Landing.
The forest hunters, the Deer-Catchers, served as natural scouts, guiding the vanguard onto a rugged path through the Kingswood, faster and more hidden. Another part of the army, acting as the main force, advanced slowly and openly along the kingsroad.
An open attack along the kingsroad, a secret crossing through the forest paths. This was the first move Gendry had planned.
I need to seize the initiative in this war, Gendry thought. For the sake of speed, he had to take the rough paths and move quickly, not advance straight and steady along the kingsroad. The kingsroad was safe and level, but too slow.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
A faint autumn wind beat against the dozen or so golden banners held high above the warriors' heads. Embroidered at their centers were the crowned stag of House Baratheon, the three-headed red dragon of House Targaryen, the running wolves of the Wolf Pack, and the shackle-breaker who symbolized the freed slaves.
Gendry rode at the front in black-scaled plate armor, tall and strong on horseback. His years as a smith had made him cherish this armor, and he maintained it with care. His breastplate was adorned with black and red crystal in the shapes of stag and dragon. Orphan-Maker hung on one side of his belt, and the Valyrian steel dagger on the other. An arakh and a spiked warhammer rested on his saddle. Gendry had not brought his double-pronged helm, since the narrow parts of the forest would hinder his sight.
"Make sure the knights rest properly and preserve their strength. Do not let them ignore their limits just to hurry the march," Gendry told Anguy and Ser Guyard.
Armor still has weight, and it drains strength. It would be good if I could seize another suit of Valyrian steel armor. Perhaps Crow's Eye has already found one, Gendry thought as he watched the knights moving through the forest.
"As you command, Prince." Anguy and Guyard waved their banners, passing the order to the heralds. The troops kept their pace steady.
Knights needed to fight in armor. Although plate armor distributed its weight properly across the body, the weight itself still placed a heavy strain on a knight's stamina. Once knights dismounted to fight, even warriors in excellent condition could not fight at full strength for long. A forced march was also exhausting, but the weather was favorable now, so there was no need to worry about armored men suffering from heatstroke.
Gendry needed to stir the Stormlands warriors' spirits, while also keeping their character in mind. The Reach had the most knights. The Westerlands had standing forces that were trained and well equipped. The Stormlands relied on boldness and fighting, worshiping martial strength, but they had little experience in large-scale warfare. Still, Gendry's victories spoke for him. The soldiers of the Stormlands only needed to charge after him.
"This forest truly stirs the heart," Gendry said, looking around the Kingswood. In the past, he had never felt so deeply about it, but as an army commander, he had to know the land and terrain well. Gendry's falcon circled above the army, that beautiful bird.
"Yes, we have entered the Kingswood again, Prince," Ser Barristan said as he looked at the forest. The old knight felt his heart surge. Here, the previous generation of white knights had destroyed the Kingswood Brotherhood. The Kingswood was also where King Robert had died.
Ser Barristan wore a beautiful suit of armor, a gift from Gendry. The mail was gilded and exquisitely made, its links as soft as fine leather. The plate was enameled, hard as ice and bright as fresh snow. Around his waist was a white leather sword belt with a golden buckle, a dagger on one side and a longsword on the other. A long white cloak hung from his shoulders.
"Through the Kingswood, seize the lion." Gendry looked ahead and flicked his riding crop.
"Through the Kingswood, seize the lion!" the soldiers shouted, their morale soaring.
"The Reach behind us can still raise an army of a hundred thousand," Ser Barristan Selmy said to Gendry with some worry. "And the knights of the Reach have yet to move. I heard they originally meant to fight for Great Lord Renly."
The Reach was second only to the North in size, and its fertile lands fed the largest population on the continent. House Tyrell of Highgarden ruled the south, but there were too many powerful vassals beneath them, each with their own designs. Too many big fish in too shallow a pond. Fortunately, the Reach was scattered, so its movements always seemed slow and dragging, but no one would ignore the threat of Highgarden.
"It is only a large army. Their knights and elites may not be much better than the Stormlands'," Ser Guyard Morrigen corrected with disdain. "And Great Lord Mace is nothing special. Everyone knows he relied on Randyll Tarly back then."
"If the Reach comes, then we will fight them too, and fight them gladly," Anguy said. Before the Dragonlord's conquest, the Stormlands, the Reach, and Dorne had fought each other for a long time. In his youth, the proud last Storm King, Argilac, had once slain the King of House Gardener on the battlefield.
The Stormlands had a deep martial spirit and many capable knights, but its population could not compare with the Reach. When it came to raising troops, the Reach stood first.
Gendry brushed the hilt of Orphan-Maker at his waist. Even if the Reach did not send soldiers, the fact that their armies remained still was already a great help to him. What he feared most was Great Lord Mace stubbornly choosing the Lannisters.
"Prince's letter reached Highgarden long ago, and the Knight of Flowers also carried our greetings," Lothor said. "House Tyrell will think carefully."
"Just in case, Lord Caron's and Ser Cortnay's scouting parties are patrolling along the border. If Great Lord Mace truly loses his senses, I have prepared for the worst," Gendry said.
"That is only proper." Ser Barristan nodded. Gendry and his army were on the attack, while the Lannisters relied on their great city to defend. If the war fell into stalemate or the advance failed, the situation would only grow more chaotic.
The situation in the Reach. There are too many powerful lords beneath the rose. That can also be used, Gendry thought.
"Prince Gendry's letters have already been sent from Dragonstone and Storm's End to the castles of the Reach. The southern lords will not be so foolish. My father said they have never truly been of one mind," Jon Snow said. As the son of Great Lord Eddard, he had still studied the workings of high power, unlike someone of pure common roots like Anguy.
Gendry nodded. Aside from House Tyrell of Highgarden, there was House Hightower of Oldtown, House Rowan of Goldengrove, and House Redwyne of the Arbor. Then came House Florent of Brightwater Keep, House Tarly of Horn Hill, House Oakheart of Old Oak, and others. There was also the once-glorious House Peake, whose strength had been greatly weakened by its love of stirring up trouble.
"What if the southern army truly comes from the south?" Ser Barristan asked.
"The old lady of Highgarden tied together the alliance of Tyrell, Redwyne, Hightower, Rowan, and Fossoway through marriage, but how they will perform on the battlefield is another question," Gendry reasoned.
Highgarden's current strength depended on its marriage circle. The Queen of Thorns came from House Redwyne, Great Lord Mace's wife came from House Hightower, Mace's second son's wife came from House Fossoway, and House Rowan had also married a Redwyne girl. But House Hightower often sent men without effort, and how much strength the other houses would contribute was hard to say.
"Even in the Reach, we still have help from House Florent of Brightwater Keep," Ser Guyard added. House Florent was tied to Stannis by marriage and had long resented House Tyrell.
"These Stormlands forces are here to pressure King's Landing, not storm it," Gendry said. "Once all our armies join together, we will have more than twenty thousand men. Though that cannot match the Reach's strength, there is still room to maneuver."
Aside from the Stormlands army, there were also troops from the Vale and the North at the Twins, which could be transported over through control of the sea. If the Tyrells lost their senses, he did not mind waking them up first.
An open attack on King's Landing, a hidden strike against reinforcements. This was Gendry's second arrangement. As for King's Landing, with enough pressure, a starving city would be much easier to deal with.
...
The filthy, ragged, unkempt people stared with hatred at the Lannisters who had come from the Red Keep to the docks to send off the girl.
"I do not like those eyes at all," Tyrion thought. But he could not kill every starving person, and Cersei had refused to let the girl be sent away quietly.
"I truly miss my room." Tyrion knew that under the present circumstances, the best thing would be to hide inside the Red Keep, but hiding would look like cowardice. King's Landing could not have a cowardly Hand now. He had to show himself.
Tyrion had to admit that sending Myrcella to Braavos was a military risk, but he had no choice.
Everyone knew that from Gulltown to Dragonstone, the Vale fleet and Dragonstone's Royal Fleet had effectively blockaded the entire sea. But with the fleets divided three ways, he had to act. If they later reached terms with Dorne or the Reach, there might still be a chance to bring Princess Myrcella back.
Move quickly before they unite, Tyrion thought. Before Stannis and the Gulltown fleet finished tightening the noose. The sea was vast. There was always hope.
Tyrion had arranged the best and fastest warship for Myrcella. Her brothers said goodbye to her. When the moment of parting came, Prince Tommen was the one weeping, and Myrcella was the one comforting him.
There was a faint tremor in Myrcella's smile, but the girl knew how to handle herself. Her words were brave and dignified.
She was born to be a princess, Tyrion thought. She was a Lannister, even if she did not bear the name. Lannister blood ran in her veins, Cersei's and Jaime's blood.
In the end, Tyrion had yielded to Cersei. Besides Sea Swift, there were escort ships: Robert's Hammer, Lion Star, Fierce Wind, and Lady Lyanna. Most of the Royal Fleet had gone to Dragonstone, so losing even this small number was a painful blow to the King's Landing fleet.
Tyrion repeated his instructions to the captains several times, including the route and escape plans.
"Sail along the coast and stay close to land. The Gulltown fleet is currently refitting. Varys says this is our only chance. And Crackclaw Point is all small boats. We cannot miss the opportunity."
"What should we do if we meet the enemy?"
"If the other side has only one ship, take the initiative and drive it off or sink it. If they send a fleet, Fierce Wind is to stay close to Sea Swift and protect her, while the other ships form up for battle."
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