The Eminence in GOT-Chapter 57: Battle of the Blackwater

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***

P.O.V. Tyrion Lannister.

The beginning of the ninth month of the year 299 A.D.

Temper Factoria, Steel Street, King's Landing.

«So you agree? - I asked the thin, medium-sized man sitting in front of me with sarcastic disbelief.

«Yes. Our fifty warriors will help hold the River Gate during the assault for the five hundred gold dragons you offer. - The head of the local branch of the Dornish merchants replied, still smiling his usual good-natured smile.

"Why did you refuse me before?" - I roared, feeling my eye twitch involuntarily.

In anticipation of Baratheon's advancing army, I'd been doing everything I could to make sure the city would hold out. Reinforcing the walls, preparing brigands, repairing ships, secretly setting the chain that was supposed to turn the Blackwater into one big trap, and increasing the number of Gold Cloaks. The latter was the biggest problem. Of the four thousand guards recruited, many of the new recruits had only ever held a stick or club in their entire lives. And of the original two thousand, most of them were fat and cowardly thieves, living off illegal fees from visiting merchants and using their spears not as weapons, but as canes. In general, the most numerous and useless part of my army.

Besides the Gold Cloaks, there were five hundred knights and guardsmen of our home guard and eight hundred of my mercenaries. My nephew, determined to prove himself a brilliant strategist and tactician, had sent all three hundred of his trained knights to guard the Red Keep in case Stannis's men climbed the cliffs. A juvenile idiot. And most of the mercenaries had dispersed as commanders, lieutenants, and tenths to the Gold Cloaks, for one simple reason - most of them would gladly shoot their superiors during a battle.

Men were urgently needed. Trained men who could hold a weapon.

And the Tempers had them. I'd originally thought of their warriors as something like Gold Cloaks, albeit better trained, but I'd changed my mind the day my niece sailed for Dorne.

That day a hungry and angry mob, seeing a well-fed and contented king nearly trampling a mother and her starving infant, started a riot that resulted in terrible casualties.

Aron Santagar, High Septon, Kingsguard Preston Greenfield, my cousin Tyrek, Uncle Tiggett's son, Lolis Stockward, the second daughter of the Stockward family, and Sansa Stark were dragged from their horses. The first three were slaughtered by the mob, Tirek disappeared somewhere in the alleys of Flea Bottom, Lolis was raped, and Sansa almost repeated her fate if it hadn't been for the Hound who had not pulled her out of the hands of the poor in time.

But with that, the angry and hungry mob rushed to the Tempers' factories, where the largest grain reserves in the city were stored. When the guards arrived the next day, led by Bron and Ser Bywater, all they saw was a mountain of corpses at the entrance to the factories, which were quickly being strewn about and burned. According to eyewitness accounts, a veritable wall of shields met the gathering on Steel Street, which, like an indestructible rock, stopped the human sea and easily threw it back.

And then the spears came into action.

Like waves, the hungry people surged forward and rolled back, each time leaving behind more and more corpses. Soon the spearmen were joined by the archers on the rooftops, who began shooting live targets as if in a tournament, and the foot soldiers, who let their hand monsters off the leash. The crowd was turned and dispersed in less than three minutes.

Judging by how pale and sweaty the witness-trader who had been brought to the Throne Room that day was, the sight of the common people being torn to shreds by huge dogs and hacked to pieces by steel-clad swordsmen as if in a dance was not a pleasant one for him. All the ladies in the hall felt the same way, and by the end of the story they were as pale as the Unknown, and some of them fainted from horror. But how my crowned nephew was glowing with happiness, catching every word, every bloody detail, every moment when "the damned rebels who rose against the crown" lost their lives. At the end, Joffrey only laughed happily and ordered a barrel of the finest wine in the king's cellars to be sent to the Tempers' factories. A treat for the glorious warriors who punished the lowly rebels.

So as much as I was disgusted with the carnage that had occurred, I needed fifty men who could easily win where most mercenaries and Gold Cloaks would simply run away.

«Put them in the first line at the Dirty Gate. - I told Bronn when the deal was done, and we left the building, accompanied by a few guards, heading towards the castle. - Let them be the ones to take the brunt of the blow from Stannis's breaching army.

«It's certain death. - The mercenary said, looking around for threats. - You didn't like the carnage those Reds caused, did you?

«That's not the point. - I shrugged negatively, trying not to step in puddles of fresh shit, piss, and mud. - It's just that this is one of the strongest units available to us. Their job is to stall as much as possible until my father's and Mace Tyrell's forces arrive to stab Stannis in the back.

"He's partly right, though," I thought as I continued walking toward the center of the Seven Kingdoms' power. There was still much to do, much to talk to, much to monitor my rambunctious nephew and my sister, who thought she was Queen Regent and ruler of the entire continent, lest they do something outright stupid. Or something nasty.

There was a lot of work to do, and your little servant was only one.

***

Same time.

Catacombs under Bread Street, King's Landing

«Report.

«Everything went well. The stag men are ready and waiting only for our signal to start the rebellion.

«Varys?

«He almost had us exposed. We had to dump the merchants on Silk Street. That was our last bargaining chip. The Spider will know of the rebellion within seven days.

«That's all right, by then Stannis will be long gone and it'll be too late to do anything. What about the infiltration of our suicide bombers?

«Three have managed to get on the brigands, two more on the catapults. They'll do their job when the time comes.

«You promised their families would be taken care of, didn't you?

«Of course, commander.

«Last question-- what about the poison?

«Printed out and given to a gunner who's already in position. If our target behaves the way we think he should, he's guaranteed to get past his crouch.

«That's great. I envy him. It's an honor for an assassin to hold such a title.

«We'll have a celebration someday, commander.

«That's right. For now, go and get ready. You have an important part of the plan, and if Aegon's hill isn't blazing by the end of the siege, it will be your fault.

«I'm well aware of that. All for our sun.

«All for our sun.

***

P.O.V. Tyrion Lannister.

The tenth day of the ninth month of the year 299 A.D.E.

The walls of King's Landing.

«Well, here we go... - I said with a little bit of doom, looking toward the bay, where the lights of approaching ships were already visible in the fog.

«Are you afraid, uncle? - With his eternal contemptuous grin asked the nephew standing next to me, trying to hide his fear behind the bravado and the five guardsmen who were not a step away from him. - A little man like you doesn't need to be afraid. Most rebel soldiers won't even notice you.

«And that's good, your majesty. If I'm invisible, I'll be able to kill more of our enemies. - I answered, turning my gaze to the southern shore, where hundreds of bonfires burned as Stannis's cavalry arrived a few days before the fleet. Sixteen thousand warriors just waiting for their fleet to carry them to the northern shore.

«The rebel ships are half a mile away! - There was a loud shout from the observers, followed by the steady beat of war drums.

«Tong-todo-dong-todo-dong...

«Tong-todo-dong-todo-dong...

«Tong-todo-dong-todo-dong...

In the night fog the silhouettes of approaching ships began to appear at once and what I saw I didn't like very much.

«What on earth was Stannis thinking sending small ships at our fleet?! - Joffrey voiced my thoughts, his eyes darting between the first line of the black and white Grace of the Gods and the Prince Aemon and the small Myrian boats that barely had a hundred oars.

"If he found out about my plan, we're screwed." - I thought, feeling a large drop of sweat roll down my temple. Calling the nearest mercenary to me, I passed a message through him to Bronn, who was in charge of the climbing tower on the south bank.

«Archers get ready! Load the trebuchets and ballistae! - I shouted as the first stag ships entered the river and began converging on the royal fleet, which had already begun a skirmish with the archers standing on the south bank.

«Archers tov!

«Archers tov!

«Charge! - It was heard from everywhere. People were preparing to defend their homes and city, pre-motivated by rumors of what Stannis was doing to his enemies.

Burning in the name of his fire god.

«Careful with those shells, you sheep!

«You drop one and we're dead! - The Three Whores, three huge trebuchets made of royal oak and shackled with iron so that they wouldn't splinter when fired, were especially swearing. And they fired heavy stones that could break a medium-sized ship in half with a single hit.

And so, when three of Stannis' ten lines of ships entered the bay and monsters like the Fury and the Black Beta came under fire, it was their turn to show that the Lannisters hadn't invested in them for nothing.

«Three whores! Stone fire! - I shouted at the top of my lungs, pointing my axe toward the bay. - Whoever hits that hulking thing with the horns gets as much gold as he can carry!

«Yes!

«To the Imp!

«To the King!

«Throw...

«Throw...

«Throw--

Whoever Stannis had for an admiral was a small-minded fool. Lining up the big ships at the entrance to the river delta was a great gift to us. With just one lucky shot, one of Baratheon's double-weighted ships lost half its stern and went down fast, to the screams of horror from its crew.

«Good shot! - Joffrey cheered like a child, smiling his bloodthirsty and sadistic smile. - Again! Uncle, why aren't the archers firing? Shoot! Turn those fucking rebels into hedgehogs!

«Don't shoot! - I bellowed, glaring irritatedly at the idiot king. He didn't know a thing about martial arts and couldn't see that the arrows wouldn't even reach Stannis's ships. - Wait for my command!

«The King commands it! - My nephew was about to start, but I shut him up:

«A king who knows no plan must keep silent and look like an inspiration to his men.

«How dare you! - He raged, grabbing the sword hanging from his belt. - I can order the Hound to chop you to pieces and he will do it at once!

«Then I'll be a quarter husband. That sounds even worse. - I answered calmly, keeping my eyes on the sixth line of Baratheon ships that had already entered the strait while the first line was already boarding our small fleet. - There will be no me, no signal. No signal, no victory. No victory, Stannis Baraeton will take the city, take the Iron Throne, and your head will be on the peak where Eddard Stark's head was. And as funny as it looks, my head will be there too. And I like it, despite all its flaws, and I don't want to lose it in the near future.

An anxious anticipation set in. Before the entire Deer fleet could enter the river, the trebuchets had managed to sink four ships and badly damage five more, and the first three rows were already fighting the royal fleet and starting to win. It was time to use our main trump card.

«Let it go! - I shouted to the archer standing next to me, who ignited his arrow and shot it into the sky. That was the signal to Bronn, the Branders and the rest of the trebuchet teams that it was time to use our main trump card - wild fire.

«Let's see what you can do, Stann....

«BABAH!

«Aaah!!!

«Get him off me!

«It hurts!

«I'm burning! I'm burning!

«Peklov wildfire!

Before I could say anything, the sounds of loud explosions came from the river and the siege machines standing nearby, literally blinding and deafening everyone around me.

«It can't be..." I said in shock, staring at the huge green flower blossoming among the royal fleet and part of Stannis's fleet. In just one minute we had lost all the ships on the river, while the stag had lost only fifty light lochans, preserving the main backbone of his fleet, whose battle barges had already begun to dock on the northern bank of the river. And judging by the way almost half of our trebuchets exploded, there was only one conclusion.

«What happened?! - With eyes full of incomprehension and fear, my nephew asked me, rising to his feet.

«We have been betrayed. - I answered, quickly thinking over the situation and trying to figure out what to do.

«Who?! - Joffrey wrapped his head in even greater horror, looking for the rebels who wanted to kill him. And rightly so.

«No idea. But we have to do something about it. - I decided, shouting to the captain standing next to me. - Send men to watch the siege machines! So that no one suspicious can approach them, and their crews behave normally and keep pelting these rebels with fire!

«Yes, my Lord Hand. - One of my mercenaries bowed to me and, taking his men with him, quickly headed towards the remaining onagers, of which there were only eight left. But they continued their work and every minute sent vessels of Wildfire towards the enemy.

And it was working. More and more of Baratheon's ships burst into green flames, but the rest maneuvered quickly and moved out of range, docking on our shore and landing hundreds of soldiers carrying cats and ladders on their shoulders.

«Archers, fire! Target those carrying the ladders! - I shouted, unleashing a rain of arrows on Stannis's army with a single command.

It had an effect, but not the one I'd hoped for. Still, since Robert's time, the Stormlands had grown rich thanks to the crown's patronage. Because of this, most of the attacking soldiers were wearing good armor and carrying ironclad shields that could only be penetrated by crossbow shots, of which there were very few in King's Landing.

«What are they doing? - Joffrey asked, looking a little to the right of the River Gate.

«Fucking hell..." I cursed, my eyes wide. Part of Stannis's army, which had already crossed the river, did not go under fire to storm the walls, but halted close to the shore and took up defensive positions, forming an even formation of shields and covering themselves from the archers. - How does that baked deer know about this?!

«How does he know about what?! - My nephew yelled at me, almost crying, as an arrow flew a few meters away from him and plunged into the unlucky servant's head.

«Your grandfather and Mace Tyrell were supposed to arrive in King's Landing today or tomorrow with an army to hit your uncle in the rear. But he found out about it from somewhere and is preparing for defense. If he breaks through to us before they arrive, we're all dead. - I answered, realizing that there was nothing more to hide. It was a plan devised by my father, Mathis Rowann, Randyll Tarly and myself to get rid of the third in line to the throne in one step. I didn't understand how straight as a crowbar and hard as a boulder Stannis, who had never even considered such a thing as espionage, had managed to bypass Varys and send his men into our ranks.

«Do something! - Joffrey shouted hysterically, waving his arms like a whimsical child. - Kill them all! As your king I command you to kill all these mint.....

«SHANDARAH...

Before he could finish, an air wave stunned and knocked down everyone standing on the wall, giving the attackers some time to run even closer to the wall. But this time, wild fire exploded inside the city walls.

«What exploded this time? - The first to get to his feet, surprisingly, was Joffrey, outpacing even the Hound in this. But I didn't like the dead pallor that instantly appeared on his always cheeky and capricious face. - Mom.

«Fucking gods... - Clegane said in shock, looking toward the Red Castle in disbelief and undisguised fear.

«What's going on there? - I asked irritably, finally getting rid of the heavy armor and standing up on my feet. And what I saw almost made me fall back on my ass. - Fuck, Varys, how could you see that!

Aegon and Raenys Hill was on fire. All the houses near the walls of the Red Castle and the long abandoned Dragon's Lair and its surroundings were burning like dry straw in the sun. People screamed in agony, buildings collapsed, women screamed in fear, and only a few people had already picked up buckets of water and ran to put out the fire. But it was all useless. For the fire that had engulfed part of the capital was a very recognizable emerald color.

"Where did Stannis get so much Wildfire?" - I thought in shock, remembering that we were under siege, and there were thirty thousand angry stormtroopers waiting for us downstairs, eager to put our heads on spikes. - Come up quickly! Archers, keep firing! Throw stones! Pour oil! Don't let the rebels climb the wall!

My roar and the sight of the king alive and unharmed more or less did the trick. The gold cloaks and mercenaries quickly took their positions and continued to reduce the number of stormers.

But our position was getting worse by the second. Stannis's soldiers were professionals and had already built a flimsy bridge out of dinghies and planks, and more and more forces were quickly crossing it. Besides, we hadn't managed to get rid of all his warships, and now their crews were pelting the walls and the city with bolts and stones from the ship's scorpions and onagers.

«Clegane! - I called to the Dog standing beside me. - Take three hundred of the finest gold and scarlet cloaks and go to the secret passage! When a battering ram is brought to the gate, wait for the signal and attack Stannis's men in the back. Kill and burn everything there!

Sandor nodded and ran quickly downstairs to gather men for a near-suicidal sortie. But I knew the Hound would make it and survive. He wouldn't die until he'd killed his Stark captive older brother with his own hands.

«What are we going to do? - Asked his nephew, who was without his strongest bodyguard and had lost most of his gloss. Or rather what little he had left.

«We will go to the gate, where you will make a speech that will inspire the defenders to exploits and raise their spirits. - I answered and started to go downstairs, calling Pod along the way. - Podrick, listen carefully. Take your horse and ride to the Royal, Lion's and God's gates. Bring all the men from there and bring them quickly. Otherwise, King's Harbor will fall within the hour!

«Understood, my lord. - Paine replied, completely losing all his shyness and timidity. He was strange today - focused, serious, and even more silent, though I didn't know where else to go.

«What's wrong with the gate? - I asked the nearest man with the centurion's mark, who had a huge gray dog lying at his feet, showing perfectly well that I was one of the fifty men of the Tempers.

«My Lord Hand. Your Majesty. - He bowed to us when he saw us, and pointed a steel-clad finger toward the gate. - It's not as bad as we expected. Yes, the wood here is mostly soggy, but it's northern oak. You can't break it that easily. We've reinforced the gates with lever bars and nailed them shut with planks and steel plates. It'll take Stannis at least half an hour to break it down, even if he has giants in his army.

«Very good. - Without hiding a smile, I replied. Those Goldcloak sheep could offer nothing at all to strengthen the gates, and at Bronn's suggestion they almost caused a scandal. "You can't seal the gate!", "It will stop trade!", "It's against the code of the Golden Guard". The only normal argument was made by one of the few captains left in his position, Ser Jaselyn Bywater. Through the gates, it was possible to raid beyond the walls and throw Stannis' men into the river. But that opportunity fizzled when we failed to destroy his fleet. If our men had gone beyond the walls, they would have been shot by the archers on the ships and the war machines.

«What are those? - Joffrey asked, pointing to the small podiums of sand and stone set up near the gate.

«Positions for the archers, your majesty. - Replied the centurion. - While the rebels press against the wall of shields, our archers will shoot them off from above like a firing range.

«Very, very good. - I nodded satisfactorily, gripping my axe more comfortably. - How long can you hold the gate?

«A quarter of an hour, no more. - The soldier answered, thinking for a moment. - We could take longer, but the Stormriders have too many hammer-wielders. They'll shatter our shields in a few dozen hits and we'll have to retreat.

«That's already more than I bargained for. - I glanced at the two lines of ten pikemen standing at the gate and said. It was necessary to cheer up our men, since their king, standing next to them and shaking like a virgin in front of the Mountain, could not do it. - Way to go, boys! It won't be long before we have reinforcements coming in from the next three gates. Then we'll show those rebels where--

«Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! Your Majesty! Your Majesty! - Lancel, who was shouting at the top of his lungs, ran out of the nearest alley and rushed to us. His cousin looked unimportant - an arrow in his shoulder from the beginning of the battle, tangled messy hair, sweat streaming down his face and neck, and eyes full of fear and terror, the source of which he immediately reported. - The townspeople have risen! Some of the artisans from Steel Street, Cobbler Street, and Bread Street had risen up! They were the ones who set fire to the houses near the Red Castle and the laird's lodge! Some of them have tied up our men from God's, Lion's and King's Gate in battle! And some are marching towards the castle to kill and capture your mother and courtiers! There are too many of them! They'll kill us all!

«Bah...

"Why shout so loud, you idiot!" - I thought, running up to my angry cousin at an unexpected speed and hitting him on the head with the back of my axe. That was enough to knock Lancel out and shut him up, stopping him from destroying the morale of our people even more. But it was too late.

«Mama... Mama... - Joffrey muttered to himself as he looked at the fire raging near the castle walls, which made it seem as if Maegor's very creation was on fire. - I need to get to the castle. Now! The city can't be held. But the castle will last longer. Exactly. I need to get to the castle!

«You can't! - I'll stop that fool before he runs out of here with his heels blazing. - You're the king! These men are fighting for you! If you run away, everything will fall to hell!

«I must be in the castle! - My nephew shouted hysterically at me, but after a quick glance at the people looking at him, whose expressions were full of incomprehension and fear (and at Temper's men and some of the mercenaries - contempt and disgust), he calmed down a bit and said. - Ser Bailon, Ser Mendon, stay with my uncle and represent the king.

Thereupon he, in conjunction with Trant, Kettleblack's new guard, and a hundred scarlet cloaks who were to assist in the defense of the gates, fled in the direction of Hook Street and soon disappeared behind the low houses of King's Harbor.

The mood on the walls and gates became, to say the least, disgusting.

«The king has escaped...

«What do we do?

«Who will lead us?

«We must surrender.

«Stannis will take this city anyway--

The King, the mainstay and protector that people have long been accustomed to seeing in Robert and then his son, has cowardly fled, leaving them alone against an army of evil stormtroopers.

«Bang...

Part of the city is on fire, and the fire is spreading more and more, surely affecting the homes of many of the people here. They were probably more eager to rush home and help their families rather than stand and die on these godforsaken walls.

«Bah...

And the riot that broke out, depriving us of reinforcements, did not add to my confidence. If I survive I will ask a lot of questions to Varis, who somehow managed to miss the sabotage on the brander, the burning of two of the three hills and the riot that broke out at such a bad time.

«Bah...

And we can't forget the fucking battering ram that's been trying to break down the gate for half a minute now!

«Warriors, warriors. Everybody shut up! - I bellowed, drawing the attention of everyone in the square except the archers and their assistants, who continued to pelt Stannis's men with arrows and stones. There were casualties among them, too-the stormtroopers couldn't shoot as well and they didn't have the advantage of height-but we were outnumbered, and every man killed was a significant loss. - I'll lead you!

«Not a funny joke. - Said one of the Gold Cloaks. - What can a half-husband do?

«Not shit his pants in front of the enemy standing next to him, unlike you. - I replied, addressing the four hundred people separating our family's fall from the Iron Throne. - You yourself call me half-husband! But I'm here, standing here trying to make sure the fucking gates don't stand and the city isn't flooded with rebels who want our blood. What do we call you then, those who fear and wish to run to your mothers? А?!

The murmurings were immediately silenced, and hundreds of angry and focused gazes turned on me, waiting for me to say more.

«Don't fight for the king and his kingdom! Most of you have never seen anything beyond your homes anyway. - Giving all my strength and feelings for the sake of this speech, I spoke. - Fight not for honor or glory! Not for riches you'll never get! It is your city Stannis wants to take! He's the one breaking down your gates! He's the one who set those fires that rage and threaten to burn your houses to the ground! If he comes in, he will take everything from you - your gold, your women, your children and your lives! - I paused for a few seconds to catch my breath and look into the eyes of the people watching me. - There are brave men knocking at our door. Let's kill them without letting them kill us!

As soon as I finished, hundreds of swords left their scabbards and flew into the sky, showing that my words had been heard by these people.

«Raaaaah!

«For the Imp!

«We will not surrender our city!

«Let the stormtroopers fall into the abyss!

The only ones who didn't participate in the short rampage were fifty Dornish, still standing at the gates and watching tensely as they sagged under the blows of the enemy's battering ram.

«I hope you won't run away at the most important moment, leaving the gates defenseless? - I asked the centurion as the others quickly climbed the walls, knocking out Baratheon's men, leaving fifty red cloaks, Tempest's men, and me and two guardsmen at the entrance arch.

«What makes you think that, my Lord Hand? - He asked me with a slight note of surprise, raising an eyebrow beneath his helmet.

- You didn't react very actively to my speech. - I noted, nervously twisting the handle of my axe in my hand.

«Oh, that's what you mean. - The Dornian grinned back, looking at me with a look of amusement. It was very creepy to see a man with an arrow in his eye fall beside me. - Your speech was very good indeed, my Lord Hand. We all felt energized by your words. - All of his men nodded vigorously at this moment. - But you are still a long way from our junior madam. She can raise our morale with a single word to a height that would require you to behead Stannis Baratheon in a fair fight with your own hands. - Judging by the restrained laughter among the Dornish and scarlet cloaks, his joke was appreciated. I liked it, too. - As for the battle, you need not worry. Unlike those sons of millers, carpenters, cooks, and others..." He looked at the Gold Cloaks and Scarlet Cloaks standing not far away, who did not like his last words very much... "Our trade is much bloodier, and it is a sin for us to fear a superior enemy! That's right, boys!

«Ahoo!

«Hoo!

«Ahoo!

The sharp roar of the Dornish almost deafened me, and their eyes, lacking any fear of battle, sent goosebumps running down my spine.

«We will keep our end of the bargain. - Continued their commander, under the increasing blows of the battering ram and the cracking of the barely held gates. - And we will not run, showing our enemies our backs.

«Bang...

«Crack...

The loud cracking and breaking of one of the bolts was a signal that the gates would not withstand such abuse for long. Still, the Tempers' men were a little mistaken and the gates lasted twice as long.

«A wall of shields! - Loudly ordered the centurion, standing in the third row. The first two rows, ten men each, stood even tighter, almost closing their shields against each other, while the swordsmen covered the rear, supporting those with their round shields. - Archers, to the ramps! Hey, cloaks, don't fool around! Get to our backs and get ready! If we survive the first blow, the gates will stand!

Obeying his orders, the archers quickly climbed to the elevations prepared for them and in a few movements put the bowstrings on their bows, and the Red Cloaks, after my nod, pressed their shields against the backs of the Dornish, preparing to take the blow. I stood alone in the back, except for the ten hounds left here by their masters, and watched a hundred men prepare to defend an entire city against ten thousand.

I knew the tactics of Temper's men. It was not new, and had been used extensively by Valyria and Old Ghys three thousand years ago. A line of heavy pikemen with iron-clad shields could be an insurmountable barrier to any enemy. Even during the Second Great Sand War between these ancient states, the Giskar army occupied the Khizai Pass and stood there for a week, repulsing the attacks of the vastly outnumbered Valyrian army. Their soldiers, who would later become the ancestors of the Unsullied, inflicted such damage on the blessed nation that their commander-in-chief had to call the dragon lords for help. If the book is to be believed, before the dragons broke through and incinerated the Giskar people standing in the narrow passage, five Heavenly Lords were killed by the scorpions standing on the pass.

This centurion, whom I never asked his name, wanted to repeat the same trick. Although I doubt he knew about that battle.

«Boom.

«Krak.

«Boom.

«Crack.

«Well, then. I said, lowering the visor on my helmet. - Here we go.

«Boom.

«Shruh. Krachat.

«The gate is broken! - There were shouts of joy from the other side of the wall. - The gate is broken!

«Attack! - A wave of stormtroopers rushed through the open passageway with all their might into a city so accessible and defenseless to plunder.

«Phew...

«Whew...

«Whew.

only to be struck moments later by arrows fired by towering archers.

«Fire in bursts, you sheep! Fire in bursts! - The commander bellowed to them from the middle of the formation, somehow managing to shout over the raging crowd. - Prepare for collision!

I will remember the sound of two crowds of heavy warriors clashing for a long time. The clashing of shields like thunder, the blasphemous curses from people squeezed like fish in a barrel, the stomping of feet, the commander's loud shouts of "Hold fast!" repeated over and over... It all echoed in my head as I stared in shock at the crush and wondered what I was doing here.

I am the second son of House Lannister, the strongest and richest house on the continent. The one who will inherit the seat of Grandlord when my father, Tywin Lannister, dies. Yes, I am hated by my own sister and father, considered a murderer of my mother and an eternal disgrace to our house. Yes, I am a dwarf and a freak, called by the people nothing less than a "hideous demonic ape." But what am I doing here, among screaming and beating to death people, some of whom want to enthrone a fire-worshipper who burns people alive at the behest of his fiery priestess, and others who want to keep on it a little psychopath who is aroused by other people's pain, suffering and tears.

"Eh, what silly thoughts come into my head" - I thought, climbing up on a small rise and noticing that the defenders of the gate had stopped moving and had entered a kind of equilibrium with Baratheon's men.

«It is time! - The words of the Templar commander rang out like thunder. - Push!

«Uwah! - The exhalation and thrust of the shields of the lancers standing in the first line was remarkably synchronized.

«Coli! - The centurion bellowed, giving another command.

«Shuh...

«Clang...

«Push!

«Uwah!

«Coli!

«Shuh...

«Klang...

«Push!

Watching this fight, I was beginning to understand what their commander was talking about. It wasn't like fighting as my brother Jaime, a recognized swordsman. Knights fight for honor, glory, and riches, making the wielding of spear, sword, shield, and horse a true art, where every swing was to show their skill and the results of long training.

For the Dornish, on the other hand, battle was a true craft. Parsimonious but precise movements. Precise blows aimed at the weak points of armor. Timely swapping of ranks to give the fighting half a rest. And masterfully released arrows, helping to hold the line, when the rare armored knight, along with the latnicki, threatened to break through the barely held formation.

Synchronized, economical, and sparing.

That was how I would briefly describe the warriors of the youngest Dornish clan. They were inferior in skill and showmanship to the knights who, in a clear field, would probably slice them apart as easily as an egg for breakfast. But here, in the confined space of the gate, where numbers and individual skill played no part, the men of the Tempers showed an incredible battle worthy of immortalization in songs and ballads.

«Get out of here, you rabble!

«We'll break all your arms, you bastard brats!

But nothing lasts forever. Ten minutes after the gates were breached, Stannis's light infantry were joined by the real fist of the Stormlands, the Knights of the Storm's End. Clad in head-to-toe armor, armed with heavy hammers and stag helmets on their heads, these behemoths crashed into the line of defenders, pushing them back nearly two paces.

«The shields won't hold much longer. Fall back! - The centurion's orders were heard, and then his men began to retreat back. - Prepare for a new formation! Wedge and wings!

«Ahoo! - The soldiers (even the Red Cloaks) answered him, moving even faster away from the Baratheon knights swinging their heavy hammers. They were even a little taken aback, freezing in the passageway for a few moments, for which they paid the price of several arrows in their heads and necks.

«My Lord Hand! - The unnamed commander shouted to me as he began to reorganize the Scarlet Cloaks into a proper formation. - It's time to call the Hound!

«I'd forgotten about Clegane," I said as I unclipped the horn from my belt. It was supposed to be the signal for the Hound and his men to use the secret passage in the wall and attack Baratheon's men in the rear. - Blow it with all your might!

The boy of fifteen who ran beside me didn't immediately understand what I wanted him to do, but when he saw my armor with the sign of the Hand and the horn I gave him, he blew it with all the force in his lungs. Still, the signal should be as loud as possible, and I, no matter how hard I tried, could not achieve the same result as this boy, who immediately gave me the horn and ran away to help me carry the stones to the wall.

«Get up! - Once again the voice of the commander, who had already formed a formation and was expecting an avalanche of Storm Knights, held back only by archers who had never left their positions. - Get ready!

«Kill those things!

«Avenge the commander!

«For the King!

«For Stannis Baratheon!

The crowd of men rushed out of the gateway arch and almost immediately crashed into a sharp wedge of spearmen standing only a few meters from the wall. Eventually they had to split into two streams and disperse to the sides, where the swordsmen of the Tempers, with their dogs, and the Red Cloaks, with their swords drawn, were waiting, ready to rush into battle at any moment.

«Ser Mendon. Ser Baelon. - I turned to the White Cloaks who had approached me. - Go and lead each of the two groups. The sight of the Kingsguard will encourage our men and give them much longer to hold out.

«Understood, my Lord Hand. - Both of them nodded and after sheathing their swords, they went into battle.

"It's a good thing Joffrey sent them," I thought as I watched Swann scatter Stannis's men with his mace and Moore send more and more men to the Unknown, spending only one stingy blow on each. - "If it had been Boros Blount or Meryn Trant in their place, who would have escaped even as the gates fell, things would have been much worse"

I had already been in one battle, which took place on the Green Tooth. There, along with my Highlanders, I managed to kill as many as three Northmen before I was wounded by an arrow and had to pretend to be a corpse to survive. But the catfight that was growing before my eyes was orders of magnitude greater than anything I'd seen at Trident.

Steel rang, men shouted and cursed their enemies, arrows flew, dogs snarled. Each of the men in Fish Square, no matter how many moons he was, sought only one thing - to kill as many enemies as possible before he fell himself.

Here's a swordsman of the Tempers cutting two throats of Stormriders who came within perfect striking distance before falling from the hammer of one of the Knights of the Storm's End with his head shattered into a bloody mess.

Here's one of Stannis' warriors stabbing one of my house guards with his sword, only to be felled on his back a second later by a gray monster that ripped out part of his throat with a single bite.

A storm knight with his heavy hammer shattered the shield of one of the kopjacks standing in the wedge and a second later fell to the blood-soaked ground with an arrow sticking out of his eye socket.

And it all happened at the same time. The smell of giblets, piss, blood, and shit spilling out of the gutted belly was so strong that if I hadn't been living in King's Landing for the past few months, I'd have been puking on the sidelines instead of firing my crossbow at Stannis's men who came too close.

But this fight couldn't last forever. The men defending the gate were barely a hundred strong, while more and more of the Shatterers were emerging from the archway. At this rate, we would lose in a matter of minutes.

«Toot-doo! Toodle-oo!

Fortunately, the gods were on our side. A horn, the clang of steel, and Clegane bursting through the gate a few seconds later, covered head to toe in blood, both foreign and our own, gave us some time to catch our breath and regain our strength.

«Burn the ram! - I shouted to the archers on the wall, running toward the still-living Tempest commander, wiping his sword on his cloak. - We don't have much time! Seal the gates! While they bring in the new battering ram, we'll have a chance to rid the city of the rebels and bring in reinforcements!

«Understood, my Lord Hand. - He nodded quickly and turned around and shouted. - Lok, Stur, Irak, get some planks, hammers and nails and nail the gates shut! You've only got a minute until the stormtroopers come to their senses! Let's get to work, boys!

- Yes, sir!

«I'll take my men and head towards the King's Gate. I'll leave Clegane and his men here. - I said to the centurion, watching his men quickly lock the gates and board them up while the archers on the walls do their best to make sure no one can get near them. - We need to put down the rebellion and bring the men from there, or we can't take another blow. Can you manage without me?

«Not if they break through, my Lord Hand. - He answered me, taking off his helmet, underneath which was a man of my age, who was not very distinguished in appearance. He had the usual curly black hair like all Dornish, dark eyes, and correct but slightly misshapen features. The kind of man my sister wouldn't let into her bed. Too ordinary and unremarkable. If you didn't know that in a short fight he'd slaughtered nearly six Stormtroopers with his own hands, and his dog, the largest of the remaining six, had mauled no less. - I've lost a third of my men and most of the rest are archers. They're trained in swordsmanship, but even so, we'll be swept away without being seen.

«I understand, but we have no other choice. - I said, realizing I was taking a risk. A very big risk, but if I want to stay alive and see Shae again, I have no other choice. - At least tell me your name, commander. If we survive, I'll be sure to send you and your boys a barrel of the best Boron wine. You've earned it tonight.

«My name is Luck. Luck Sand. - The Dornish man who shook my hand was a bastard of one of the noble houses. I wonder which one? - It was an honor to fight beside you, Lord Hand.

«As was I, Lak. As was I. - I said, shaking the outstretched hand. - May the gods be merciful to you.

«The Old Gods are always with me, my lord. - He answered, pressing his hand to his chest, reminding me of a very funny and amusing fact - Felix Temper had inherited the belief in the Old Gods from his father, a native of the North, and most of the people in his land had adopted his lord's faith. It was very much a bone in the throat of the Dornish and High Septon whose raking hands couldn't get to the Tempers' wealth through church tithing.

«Hopefully with me, too. - I muttered, signaling Scarlet Cloak and the Guards to follow me down Fish Street toward the King's Gate. From the sounds of battle that could be heard even up here, that was where the main rebel forces were, still fighting the men I'd sent Podrick after.

It didn't take long to get to the right place, even with my short legs, and the sight of it gave me hope that I would survive the day.

There were many rebels. A great many. The townsfolk, dressed in cheap leather armor with ironclads attached, fought against the Gold Cloaks with spears and clubs. Under other circumstances I wouldn't have bet a dime on the Golden Cloaks, as they were not far behind their opponents in terms of training, but there was a man who caused three hundred guards to hold back almost a thousand rioters.

«Hold! Hold! - Bywater shouted, standing in the second row and stabbing with his sword at the overzealous townspeople. - A little more and we'll have this rabble on the run! Come on, you sons of bitches! If any of you chicken out and run, I'll rape you with my own hand!

I don't know what was more important to them - quelling the riot or not getting an iron grip on their asses, but the Gold Cloaks held on and in some places even crushed their opponents. So my men's attack to their rear should have been the straw that would tip the scales to our side.

«Attack! - I was the first to charge into the backs of the townsfolk and slaughter some unlucky artisan. - Massacre these rebels, and quickly! We have too little time! The gates could fall at any moment!

«Yes!

The ensuing carnage could not even be called a battle. Bywater, seeing the reinforcements, pressed even harder, pinning the rebels in a pincer. The people, panicking and not knowing what to do, could only panic and try to escape. They couldn't offer any resistance.

I even got carried away in the battle, and had time to slaughter six men with my axe before I heard Pod's voice and felt a heavy blow to my head.

The last thing I remembered was the blood-soaked ground, the boots trampling it, and Ser Mendon's body falling beside me with a spearhead sticking out of his mouth.

"Was it just me, or did Podrick yell 'watch out'?" was the last thought that flashed through my mind before I fell into a darkness that dragged me down like a kraken into its impenetrable depths.

***

A day later

The chambers inside Kitchen Castle, Red Castle, King's Landing.

It took me a while to regain consciousness.

My sense of touch and taste were the first to return. I felt as if I were lying on a small (for my size, one of my arms was hanging down) bed with a soft mattress and pillow and covered with a thick blanket. And my mouth felt like a Bake opened up. More than once I've had a barrel of wine that not every drinker can handle. Once I even managed to get a whole barrel of Temper's Fire and drank it down one throat. Only then I had the same nightmare in my mouth that I have now.

Then I regained my sense of smell. The room to which I was lying smelled of herbs and medicines and infusions, as if I were back in Maester Creylen's chambers when Cersei had broken my arm fifteen years ago. I'd spent two weeks there until the bones healed, but I'd almost hated the smell of medicine, and I'd hated Maester's chambers ever since.

The penultimate to return was my hearing. In the chambers where I had been brought after the battle (and I had no other explanation for lying in a normal bed and not in a damp dungeon in my own shit) there was complete silence, diluted only by the occasional birdsong outside the window and... some puffing?

My sight returned abruptly and without warning. And the first thing I wanted to do was scream loudly. In the doorway of a chamber I didn't recognize were the two giant dogs that had recently torn through Baratheon's men before my eyes.

«My Lord Tyrion! You are awake! - I was brought to my senses by the familiar voice of Pod, who was sitting at a small table to the left of my bed, so I hadn't noticed him when I first looked around the room. - How are you feeling?

«I barely whispered, feeling my tongue almost sticking to my palate from the dryness.

«Of course, my lord. - The guy nodded, and after a second he handed me a small glass of the red liquid I wanted to drink.

Gulp, gulp, gulp....

«Ahhhh... You're the best squire ever, Podrick. - Feeling the life returning to me, I said, lifting my stiff body and bringing it to a semi-sitting position. - Now tell me what happened.

«We won, my lord. - Smiling, Paine replied, locking his hands together. - Just a few minutes after the assassination attempt on you, a horn sounded. Your father, Lord Tywin, along with the cavalry of Randyll Tarly and Mathys Rowan, came to the rescue and attacked the rebels in the flank.

«Attempts? I've been assassinated?! - Only now I felt a stiffness on the top of my head, and I began to feel my head, the top of which was covered with bandages soaked in herbal concoctions.

«Ser Mendon Moore tried to kill you during the battle. - Said Pod, shocking me even more. - He tried to chop your head with his sword, but because of his helmet and fatigue from the previous battle, it slipped off, only scratching your skin. Now you were left with a long and ugly scar on the back of your head and the top of your head. When I saw it, I rushed to your aid and killed Ser Moore, piercing him from the back with my spear.

I was in silent shock.

A Kingsguard tried to kill me? Who had only two men in this city besides me to give orders to? And if Joffrey simply didn't have the brains to give such an order, then my sister... No surprise there. It would be strange if she didn't take the opportunity.

«Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha. I was tearing my veins, shedding my sweat and blood, trying to save this city and everyone in it, including Cersei and Joffrey, who, despite all their rottenness, were still my family. And they... It was getting sadder and sadder, and I needed some kind of distraction to keep me from slipping into the depths of despondency. Or a binge. With my father in town, the latter was much worse. - I'll have to thank Salloreon for his helmet. It was it that saved my life.

«He's dead, my lord. - Podrick, who had been silently listening to my fit of laughter all this time, said sadly. - He was one of those who organized the rebellion inside the city walls. Many have already dubbed it the Deer Man Conspiracy. Nearly two thousand townsfolk took up arms and tried to open the gates for Stannis when the siege began. It was their men who set fires on the hills and explosions at the war machines and brigands on the river.

«Great gods. - I muttered, gesturing for more wine. It was not my destiny to stay sober tonight. - How did Varys manage to see through such a large conspiracy? Though I doubt the conspirators didn't have outside help. What of Stannis Baratheon's army? Is it defeated?

«No, My Lord. - The Pod has staggered even more, making me listen even harder to his words. - When your father's army struck his flank, it was met by defensive battle orders. Stannis knew he could be flanked. Because of this, he was able to retreat to the southern shore and ships almost unscathed. His fleet headed towards Dragonstone and his army took the Storm Road to the Bronze Gate. - Saying this Pod picked up a glass standing not far away on the table and took a large sip of wine. - According to Lord Kiwan, whom I overheard by chance, he lost about five thousand men at Blackwater. So now he still has about thirty thousand warriors left.

The news really wasn't the best, though it was expected after what I had seen during the battle. But it was still really bad. Originally, making a secret alliance with the Tyrells had been our main bargaining chip to get rid of the last Baratheon in one fell swoop (and knowing my sister's love for the former king, I didn't doubt the authenticity of those rumors for a second). But the plan failed.

Now we have an invincible Robb Stark to the north, just waiting for a chance to ram his way down our throats, a Dragonstone fleet on the sea, which is now sure to set up an impenetrable naval blockade, and Stannis Baratheon's army to the southeast, just days away, locking up a not insignificant army in King's Landing to guard it.

"We're in the shit. But at least it's not as deep as it used to be." - I thought tiredly, massaging my eyes and taking large sips of wine. - By the way, Podrick, what are the Tempers' dogs doing here? - I pointed my finger in the direction of the still sleeping dogs.

«After the siege was lifted, they volunteered to guard you. - Payne answered, pointing toward the small balcony. On second thought, why am I not in my chambers? - There are two archers standing there now, and in the corridor, besides the two lancers, there are four other lancers. Other than Maester Pycelle, they wouldn't let anyone in while you were unconscious.

«What a pleasant surprise. - I smirked, becoming even more fond of these Dornish soldiers. - Had I impressed them so much during the siege that they had come to respect me so much?

«Sadly, no, my lord. - Paine replied a little embarrassed. - According to their commander, Lack Sand, you were not allowed to die until you had paid the full amount of the contract. And because of the panic in the city, you could have been killed.

«Panic? What panic? - I asked with a frown, feeling like I was about to hear the worst news I'd heard all day. As if to confirm my fears, Podrick faltered even more, mumbling to himself, but finally he managed to tell me the cause of the post-fall riots in King's Landing.

«Five minutes away from the red-red castle, on Hook Street, the king and his st-guards were attacked by the Stag Men. All... all of them were slaughtered, including the King's guardsmen Ser M-merin Trant and Ser Osmund Kettleblack. - The squire's frequent pauses and stutters made my gut chill involuntarily. Especially because he left out one detail.

«And Joffrey? What about Joffrey? - I asked excitedly, knowing the answer in my heart but hoping for a miracle. After all, if my nephew dies...

«His Majesty Joffrey's body was found at the gates of the Red Keep. There were five crossbow bolts in his back, and his head had been cut off and could not be found. There was some rare poison on the bolts, which caused the body to rot rapidly and even now it is impossible to approach him because of the strongest corpse odor. - I was not mistaken. The king's death in light of the Tyrell marriage was a complete disaster. Good thing we had Tommen, whom Cersei had the foresight to transport to Rosby. Eh, I can't imagine how my sister reacted. But Pod, as if he knew what I was thinking, kept talking. - The Queen Regent is furious. She tried to send the Red Cloaks to arrest you and throw you in the dungeon, but Bronn and your guards managed to drive them off. Now she's in the small council chamber, convincing everyone that you caused the king's death. And so far, she's succeeding.

"Just fine," I thought, sighing and closing my eyes with my hand. What did the old book say, "Out of the fire and into the fire"?

***

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