Chapter 91: Golden Robe Knight
The death he had braced for did not come. After a second or two, Ian opened his eyes again. The Gold Cloak who had been about to kill him now lay on the ground, a familiar cone-shaped dagger buried in the back of his head. Ian recognized the weapon. It was Bronn's.
*The Stranger came for me,* Ian thought, his mind hazy and distant, *and Bronn stabbed him in the arse.*
Then, Bronn's voice rang in his ears. "Now is the time for brave Ser Bronn to be knighted by the gods themselves."
He felt himself being lifted, staggering as Bronn hauled him up and dragged him toward Case, who had just torn himself free of the fishing net.
Ian had Bronn take the Valyrian steel greatsword from his back and hand it to the giant.
Case took the greatsword in his right hand. With his left, he drew his own longsword. Roaring like a god descended to earth, he charged the nearest Gold Cloaks.
Ian wanted to help, but he was completely spent. He took one step forward and crumpled to the ground again. Bronn stood over him, protecting his back.
At the same time, several Black Falcon mercenaries who had escaped the net rallied around Ian, forming a defensive circle against any new threats.
Under the flickering torchlight, Case's new greatsword became a blur of light and shadow. It slashed down at an oncoming Gold Cloak. The man raised his war hammer horizontally to block, but the instant the Valyrian steel touched the weapon's shaft, it sheared clean through. The sword continued its descent, landing on the Gold Cloak's shoulder and sliding down through his body with almost no resistance. Half the man's torso, clad in black mail, fell away.
Almost simultaneously, two other Gold Cloaks attacked Case. One swung a hammer at his back, but Case sidestepped with impossible ease, letting the hammerhead smash into the ground. Case then slammed his foot down on it, trapping the weapon. The last man tried to thrust his spear at Case's eyes, but his inexperience showed. The thrust from the man who was clearly unused to the weapon only came up to the two-meter-tall giant's chest.
Case didn't even bother to dodge. He let the spearhead glance off his breastplate. In the same motion, he drove the longsword in his left hand straight into the attacker's open mouth. The point punched through the back of his skull, knocking his golden helm clean off. Then, Case spun and plunged the Valyrian steel greatsword in his right hand into the chest of the man whose weapon was still pinned beneath his boot.
The entire sequence had taken less than three seconds. In one fluid, brutal motion, he had harvested the lives of three Gold Cloaks.
"Why would these bloody Gold Cloaks be attacking you?" Bronn growled. He had a captive of his own, his sword pressed to the man's neck. With a savage twist, Bronn opened the man's throat, showering Ian's face with a hot spray of blood.
"Aren't you a Lannister?" Bronn complained, wiping his own face on his sleeve. "What in the hells is going on?"
Ian couldn't answer. He was still just as confused, and his head was spinning so violently from the hammer blow that he couldn't think at all.
"Fuck it," Bronn spat. He called to the Black Falcon mercenaries. "Get him up! We're going back to the basement!"
Ian knew what he was doing—buying them time. It was a dead end, of course. Even if the Gold Cloaks didn't press the attack, they could just block the entrance and starve them out. But compared to staying on the open ground, the chapel offered a brief respite. He didn't try to stop Bronn, letting the sellsword take command.
As Bronn's group began their retreat, Case had already repelled the Gold Cloaks nearest to him and was now moving to support Rohr, who was also facing a siege.
Rohr's situation was not as good as Case's. His combat prowess was far inferior, and he was facing the same number of enemies without the benefit of a Valyrian steel sword. He was already on the verge of being overwhelmed. His left greave had been pierced, and he was half-kneeling on the ground, using his sword to parry while pressing a hand to his thigh to staunch the bleeding.
Case's arrival was a godsend. The Gold Cloaks besieging Rohr were forced to split their attention to deal with the new threat. They and their reinforcements formed two lines, advancing on Case from the front and back with their hammers and spears extended.
Case swung the Valyrian steel sword in a great arc, cleaving through the shafts of three hammers in a row. But the attacks from behind still landed, the impact knocking the giant off balance and sending him stumbling forward.
Rohr wasn't idle. Enduring the searing pain, he pushed himself up and stabbed his sword into the thigh joint of a Gold Cloak, forcing the man to his knees. Then, with his gauntleted left hand, Rohr smashed his fist into the man's nose. Another Gold Cloak saw an opening and lunged, aiming for Rohr's armpit. Rohr let go of his sword, which was still stuck in the first man's leg, and clamped his arm down, closing the gap. He charged head-on into the thrust, using his massive shoulder plate to slam into the Gold Cloak's chin, knocking the man senseless. Rohr then seized the man's sword and drove it through the gap between his gorget and helm.
Though Rohr and Case fought like demons, the tide of battle did not improve. As the last of the sailors and mercenaries caught in the nets were hunted down, more and more Gold Cloaks began to converge on Ian's small group.
Looking at the Gold Cloaks' clumsy performance, Ian felt a strange sense of luck. These were Janos Slynt's men, soft from years of peace. If this were a band of professional mercenaries with the same level of equipment, the battle would have been over long ago, even with two more men like Case.
Suddenly, Ian felt a jolt and fell to the ground again. He looked up to see that the guards around him had been attacked. Bronn himself was standing over him, locked in combat with a knight in full plate.
The knight wielded a heavy war hammer. He wore black plate armor from head to toe, with a gold cloak draped over it. Hidden among the regular guardsmen, he had gone unnoticed by Ian in the dark.
The knight in the gold cloak swung his hammer at Bronn, charging forward with heavy, pounding steps. Bronn dodged with ease and countered with his own sword. All three of his thrusts landed—on the knight's forearm, his side, and his faceplate—but none of them penetrated the thick steel.
The knight glanced at Bronn, who was circling him nimbly. "Kill him!" he roared at the Gold Cloaks behind him. Then he ignored Bronn completely and charged straight for Ian.
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