Chương 31: Chapter 27
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Garlan Tyrell.
Garlan was no fool and understood many things in this life. And he understood that sitting in his campaign tent, savouring the wonderful Arbor wine and listening to the howls of some of the lords who had come to this council of war purely because of their title and Renly Baratheon's insistence, he was going mad and couldn't wait to meet this Damian Blackheart.
With him on this quest are mostly his father's vassals, and only a small portion of the Storm Lords. Among the main faces, if I may say so at the council sat his younger brother Loras, who along with two other Baratheon "rainbow knights" in the form of Ser Emmon Q and the Maid of Tarth, Brienne of Tarth, went to help advise his brother and personally take part in the battle. Garlan's younger brother was effectively disgraced and wanted revenge, and Garlan understood him. Although he was amused by the presence of Lord Selwyn Tarth's daughter in their army, he quickly forgot about her after Lord John Ashford, Lord Harwood Fell, Lord Hugh Grandison, Lord Brian Fassoway, Lord Orton Merriweather, Lord Alistair Cafferin and Lester Morrigen began to drip on his brain. They were his chief pain in this campaign, who boasted of future victory as if they had already defeated Blackheart and were besieging King's Landing. And yet the experience of Ser Baelon Swann, who was also here and his brother clearly indicated that one should be more careful with this "fruit". And the fact that Loras has become more serious and calm, even despite the separation from his lover, a good reason to think Garlan himself to use the maximum of his skills, intelligence and cunning with Blackheart. He would not want to follow in his younger brother's footsteps and disgrace his clan. Though Garlan already respected Blackheart, and when he defeated Blackheart, he would offer him Renly's hand, even stand up for him to their king. Such a man will be useful in the coming war. And it will drag on...
Garlan drank and listened to the others in turn. In the end, to relieve himself with unnecessary people, he divided the army into three parts. The first part, headed by Lord Orton Merriweather, with Lord Brian Fassoway and a couple of captains loyal to the elderly Lord Swann as assistants, he sent to the sea mission to Stone Helm. There he would command a fleet and, at Garlan's behest, would cut off Sorrowful Town from the sea and would have to destroy Blackheart's fleet. Though Garlan thought Merriweather was a fool and annoyed him, but he has good experience as a sailor and is a diligent man. So the fleet of Swanns and almost a thousand men of the landing force will be, there just enough.
He sent a second group of nearly a thousand soldiers to march along the northern coast of Cape Wrath, to have the minor houses of lords and knights swear oaths of allegiance to Renly, and also to have Lester Morrigen, who commanded this portion of the warriors, take Hugh Grandison and Harwood Fell with him.
The rest of the lords, such as John Ashford, Alistair Cafferyn, Ser Baelon Swann, his brother and two other "rainbow guards," plus the no longer annoying Lords of the Vast, with whom Garlan liked to do business, travelled with him from the Red Heath through the Rain Forest to lay siege to the Misty Forest, the stronghold of Lady Mary Mertins, who had sworn allegiance to Stannis.
They were moving through the forest. Nine thousand soldiers of the Vastor, with a small portion of the Stormlands' soldiers, were travelling along a wide dirt road that was heavily used by the lords of the Cape and traders of all sorts. There were some disadvantages to this route, as the column stretched for several miles, despite the width of the road. And Blackheart, for his part, was fond of setting traps and night attacks. Garlan understood his motives, though as a knight he preferred a fair fight in the open field, but the middle son of Mace did not want to blame Blackheart for having fewer men and being used to fighting differently.
Ser Emmon Q had fought alongside him more than once, and had fought alongside Blackheart at the tournament in the Expanse, and had assured Garlan that he was not to be underestimated; he was very clever. His younger brother told him to triple the guards and patrols at night and not to drink during the march. Garlan decided to listen to his brother, but most of the "summer knights" did not really listen to this instruction of their commander. And so the column continued on its way only closer to lunchtime, and by six in the evening they stopped again for rest and continued to feast. Brienne of Tarth resented this, and argued with Baelon Swann that they could not be so negligent in marching against such an enemy.
And Garlan partly agreed with them, but could do nothing. And Loras was getting more and more nervous every day. They had been marching for the fourth day and four days now, not even spies, let alone any of Blackheart's squad, had been seen night or day. This alarmed the average Tyrell as well, something told him to expect trouble. But from where? No one knew.
At about two o'clock in the afternoon on the fifth day of the march, the first surprise attack came. A sharp column of fire in front, where was the vanguard of the army, and followed by the same column of fire upwards in the rearguard made Garlan realise that it had begun....
He ordered everyone to prepare to repel the attack on both sides of the forest and hold their position. And as soon as the messengers galloped in different directions (and Garlan and the lords were in the middle of the column, in the centre), then not far from them there was a similar explosion that took away a couple of dozen men in flames, among whom were his knights from the home guard.
Then such explosions were repeated in different sections all along the line.
As soon as the last trap had been set, a hail of arrows at the ordinary infantry and bolts at the latticans rained down on the enemy army from the woods.
This bombardment was a long one.
Twice Garlan himself was nearly killed during this shelling. He ordered to fire back, even if none of his archers saw the enemy alive, but by the trajectory and flight of the arrow it was possible to know at least the approximate distance to those archers and to hit someone.
But more than that, as soon as Prostor's archers started to act, the arrow fire ended, which everyone in Blackheart's trap rejoiced in their hearts, but their joy was replaced by new problems. There was a wild noise as if someone was beating iron on the shields and howling a familiar counting song that gave Loras and Swann goosebumps:
One, two, Blackheart is coming your way,
Three, four, he's pulling out his knives,
Five, six, keep your eyes open,
Seven, eight, don't mess with him,
Nine, ten, he's coming for you.
Eleven, twelve, run faster!
Thirteen, who didn't hide, it's not his fault.....
Then they were already being bombarded with pots of strange Wildfire for a couple of minutes.
As soon as all the pots reached the target, and how the fire did not spread to the forest, no one knew, but there was no more firing. But once again the Blackheart reckoning rang out. "One, two, Blackheart is coming your way..."
After that, Garlan couldn't stand it any longer and ordered his guards and heavy infantry to attack into the forest, for just standing and waiting was tantamount to death.
He personally led his men into battle with the name of his king on his lips. But as soon as they went about five dozen metres deep into the forest, many of his men began to fall into traps that were skilfully hidden by the enemy. Some were caught in wolf holes, some were suspended by their feet above the ground, some were caught on logs with stakes, and so on. Garlan himself also nearly died from such a log. But the traps were soon over, and a more or less "fighting" formation was broken up, and then Blackheart's men came out to join them in close combat. There was parity in the number of warriors, but Garlan didn't care, even if the enemy was numerous. His anger, his rage at everyone was greater than the need to give orders to his men. The men didn't need to do anything, they were just as eager to fight.
The fighting was fierce. Garlan personally put down a dozen enemy fighters until he met a young dark-haired youth with grey and cold eyes. Wielding his 'bastard' he blew off two heads of Garlan's bodyguards and grappled with him.
To the surprise of the average Tyrell, this young man was very agile, fast, talented, and even somewhat skilled. It had been a long time since Garlan had encountered such an awkward opponent who, in addition to his skill, actively utilised the environment for combat. He manoeuvred amongst the trees, choosing a place to fight from time to time. And eventually, both of them in the heat of battle themselves did not notice how they moved further away from the road into the forest.
In one of the ravines they were catching their breath, both bloody, blistered, tired and panting, looking at each other.
- Ha-ah... what's your name? - Garlan Tyrell asked.
- Jon...huh...Snow.
- A northerner? I wonder... how on earth did you end up at Blackheart? - wondered the knight.
- I am his... squire. When he travelled with the king almost a year ago to the North, I showed my skills and he took me in.
- Such skills... and you're still a squire? You're a tough bunch of Northerners. Who's your father?
- Lord Eddard Stark. - the young man answered, even defiantly.
- Ha! Yes, I'd heard the Starks had a bastard, but I didn't think much of it. Is that the blood that runs in your veins? Well, even if I lose to you tonight, I'll have no shame in laying down my head at your hand.
- Surrender, my lord. - John offered him a breathless offer. - The battle is over.
- What makes you say that? - Tyrell grinned.
- Because he spotted me nearby. - came a man's voice from above. - If I'm already clearing my sword, then I have no one left to chop.
Tyrell looked up and saw that on either side of them stood a dozen men with spotted cloaks of various shades of green that indicated they were members of Blackheart's army, and among them stood a tall, dark-haired man with predatory features and scarlet eyes, cleaning blood from his sword. And from the looks of it, he'd spilled a lot of it.
- What makes you think I'll believe you? Maybe it's a trick? - Garlan grinned and gripped his sword. - I have nine thousand men, even considering the heavy losses...
Garlan stopped half-phrasing as Damian Blackheart was dragged over to him by his wounded brother, Loras, who lifted his haggard face to his brother and made it clear that Blackheart wasn't lying.
- But how? - Garlan was dumbfounded and lowered his sword. - There were...
- Nine thousand. - Blackheart nodded calmly with a smile and sat down on a small rock with his sword on his knees. - I know. You outnumbered us three times, who knows, maybe even all your knights were better than mine, but you didn't take into account three very important factors, that's why you managed to lose this battle and, as I see, to be captured by me in four hours.
- What three factors?
- Factor one is surprise! - Blackheart raised a finger upwards. - Despite all the information about me, and the presence of those who have already fought me in this area, I was still able to take you by surprise by using some calculation, and knowledge of the science of psychology. It's not known here in the Seven Kingdoms, but it's paying off in some places. Suddenness was the first stone in the foundation of my victory in this battle. The second factor is the size of your army. In an open space your army would have had a better chance of success, but in a place where it is difficult to control a huge column without good communication, you actually lost control. When you lost control of your army, each commander began to command at his own discretion. Fire and shelling prevented them from concentrating, and pinpoint attacks to different places in your column forced your forces to split up. This attack in the forest did not involve all of my forces. Another thousand will now have to fight your vanguard, which has broken out of the forest. And your rearguard has simply fled, abandoning their wounded and their supplies. We even decided not to pursue them. The rest either fell at our hands or surrendered rather quickly. Demoralisation of troops is a terrible force, especially in times like these. Well, and the third factor was that I have a little more than half of my forces ate the dog on ambushes, sabotage and fighting in such an uncomfortable terrain for knights. If Lord Tarly and his men were here, it's unlikely any of the above would have helped me win. To do great harm, yes. But not victory. But fortunately for me and unfortunately for you, that man is far from here.
- I-- I--
- Don't be foolish, Lord Garlan. - Blackheart shook his head, watching as the tip of Tyrell's sword was pointed at him. - You have no chance of winning now. And your family will be saddened not only by your defeat, but by your death. Don't you feel sorry for your sister, mother and grandmother? These women must be worried about you and love you, how will they feel to know that their loved one has fallen at the hands of a "scum of an old ferret" in a dense forest?
No one moved for a while, Garlan gritted his teeth, pale and red, but he realised that he had no choice now. He had lost...
Damian Blackheart.
The battle went better than one might expect. I thought I'd stretch it out like the Germans did the battle of Teutoburg Forest over three days. Besides, the vanguard had just as much time to rush to the castle, or rather two days in the forest and one on the field.
But it was worth it for the vanguard to cover this distance through the forest in a day at a fast pace and with fear for their lives practically without rest. But as soon as they came upon a thousand well-equipped vassals of mine, Lady Mertins' militia, almost all the knights of our army under Lord Wylde's command, they realised that they simply did not have the strength to fight. At that time, the vanguard was commanded by my old acquaintance, Ser Emmon Q, and he was no idiot. Looking into the frightened eyes of his subordinates, at their fatigue and exhaustion, he made the only right decision at that moment, he surrendered with all the forces he had, which is almost a thousand men. Lord Wylde was, to put it mildly, surprised by this, and to put it simply, he was fucked. He was counting on a long and glorious battle, because the Spartans for something very much disliked, and here such a trick of the ears ...
The rearguard, which contained almost a quarter of Garlan's forces, fled to the Red Wasteland. Leaving the wagons for our forces to loot.
The rest were already really fighting us. Nearly two and a half thousand men were taken prisoner. Many of them noble men, though many of them were also killed. We were lucky again and half of the petty lords and knights of the Storm Lords died, but their men were also natives of this region. There weren't many of them, only a hundred and fifty or so, but they were willing to swear an oath to me and fight for Stannis when they were already prisoners in Mourningtown. Perhaps it was the rumours about me and Stannis that made them so eager. They have nowhere to go but back to their ancestral land to plough. And rumour has it my men are swimming in gold. And I don't even know where they come from. Of course, my soldiers don't need much, I pay them generously and all that, but they don't roll around like butter. That's good for me, though. I've formed a punishment company and put John in charge of them. I gave him another hundred men just in case, and sent him to the Misty Forest to look after some of the prisoners they'd put in there. The castellan wasn't there yet, Mary hadn't appointed him, and I decided to take a liberty in the end and gave him the authority he actually needed by my order, and the others didn't grumble. I didn't just decide to send John there for no reason. Let him sit there for the time being to gain managerial experience and experience in commanding a large group of people, and let him look after the prisoners. He shouldn't have to put his head down before his time. I was nearly dumbstruck when I realised that my squire and future protégé to the throne had gone missing, but I was relieved when I found him with Garlan, both of whom were exhausted but alive. I loved Ser Rodrik at that moment, and I commended myself for training his stamina and teaching him new skills and tricks, or he might have died before his time. And why should I?
Anyway, a third of the prisoners went to me. The rest were distributed among my allies, as well as the loot. And there was plenty of it. There was even a chance to hire another strong unit for a year. But I wasn't in a hurry.
When we'd dealt with the prisoners and the wounded, we moved on to Sorrowful in two days, and the rest of my fleet arrived a day later, led by Rex, who had a stylish scar like mine across his left eye. We already looked alike, and now we looked even more like each other... Larry even started making more jokes about it.
We lost a third of our ships and only three were boarded. The battle at sea lasted almost four days, or rather it stretched over four days. On the first day only a few advanced ships from both sides clashed and there was a small skirmish. And at night our saboteurs managed to find the parking place of the Swann fleet and make mines on my pattern and sank five landing ships of the enemy. In the morning Rex came up with the fleet, and they had a real battle on the water. Three times during the day they converged and diverged at sea. During the night no one attacked anyone, but on the third day there was a storm, which made it impossible to continue the battle. We even lost the two trophy cogs we had obtained near Storm's End. There weren't many people there. And only on the fourth day of the sea battle, the commander's nerves could not stand it, and he retreated, and as reported from the entire fleet, he lost almost half of his combat ships and most of the landing craft. So we can basically not worry about a repeat of such an attempt to crush us from the sea. They won't have the strength.
Lord Tandbury and Wylde, with nearly a thousand men, have set out to help the northern coast of Cape Wrath, which has been loyal to Stannis. The Morrigen should be rampant there now, so we'd do well to rid ourselves of that threat.
As I rested for a second day in Sorrowful, I received word from the World of Glorious Cavaliers that they had agreed to the contract Oberyn had offered me, and I would soon have a strong force that I could use. After all, the Morrigen and Swann fiefdoms I still have to take. And there are several thousand men in the Stone Helmet, I can't tell you exactly how many, but there are three thousand. I don't have the strength for that. And my men are tired, they need rest. Like me, no matter how much of a fruit I am, I need to rest. And I need to review my strength and resources.
I also sent a message to Stannis with a little progress report.
Ten days after the battle in the Rain Forest, Lords Wylde and Tandbury lifted the siege on Seaworth Castle and defeated Morrigen's forces, who, along with his brother heir, died in the battle. Now the official heir is Bryan, who is now with Renly and moving with him towards Storm's End, which Stannis is besieging.
I ordered both of them to besiege the Crow's Nest, and if they succeed, to poach some Morrigen bastard or castellan on the promise of that castle.
In the meantime, I was getting myself and my strength in order.
As time went on, for some reason my gut began to sound an alarm, but I didn't know what it was related to. I reinforced the posts and told my guys to be careful, strengthened my guards, even took antidotes for various poisons. But trouble came from somewhere I wasn't expecting.
A raven flew in from the capital of the Stormlands.
I almost had a heart attack when I read it, and then I blew up my entire office. I was only stopped by the combined efforts of Rex, Daren, Larry, Marik, Asgen and John, who had come to report to me.
- What happened? What the fuck did you arrange Damian? - asked me surprised Rex when I had already calmed down and we were alone.
- Read it! - I handed him the message.
He read it and sighed heavily.
- It's a problem!
- I know! And now I'm in huge trouble because of it and for the first time in a long time I don't know what to do.
- I'm a brother too. - Rex sat down next to me and held out a carafe of wine.
The message broke the news, on behalf of the now only blood Baratheon, and sent by his new Hand, Eddard Stark. It said that Stannis was dead, and now all his forces, including the North and the Riverlands, had gone over to Renly's side. Now this shithead has the North, the Expanse, most of the Stormlands, the Riverlands and the King's Lands behind him. And on top of that this bitch as "my king" has ordered me to report to Storm's Edge for a court case regarding my "dishonourable behaviour" and "crimes against the crown". Stark, in this message from himself, reassured me and promised me a fair trial. I even took Stark at his word, but the case is already lost for me.
- You're like Deiron the Dragon. - Rex said in a strange tone of voice as I took the wine and sipped it from my throat. - You, like him, can win almost any battle, but you, like him, lost the war. And ended that war here in Sorrow Town. - the bastard let out a chuckle.
- Shut up, Rex, you're sickening.
- What are we gonna do? - asked my brother. - I'm sure we're not wrong about the chosen one, or rather you are. But. these circumstances. We have virtually no support now. Dorne is neutral, the Vale as well. Renly and his supporters won't accept us, and there's no point in going to the Lannisters. The Iron Islands-- it's not even funny. And I'm sure I'm saying what you're thinking right now. But that begs the question, how do you keep this game going?
I drank wine for a while and thought, thought hard, collated all the facts, my knowledge. I tried to think soberly on a drunken head, in general, as it is customary for us. But I couldn't find any solution.
- I've lost this game, Rex. And I don't know what I'm gonna do now... - I answered him honestly.
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