Viserys walked across the bloody, muddy battlefield. The ground was strewn with the corpses of men and horses, mostly Tyroshi.
The banner of the Trios lay fallen in the mud.
The smells of blood, mud, and grass mingled together. Many scavenger birds and beasts had begun to gather; large black crows pecked at eyes and brains.
Amman Greenvine and his son, traumatized by the bloody scene, were on the verge of a hysterical breakdown. Most of the Greenvine cavalry had surrendered, while the Tyroshi mercenaries—their trump card—had died in the hill pass.
Amman wailed loudly, whether mourning his fate or the brutality of war was unclear.
"You wanted to seize supreme power, yet were unwilling to risk your own blood and tears." Viserys looked at Amman coldly. The will to power shaped this world.
"Victory belongs to the King!" The cheering soldiers raised their weapons—longbows, spears, pitchforks, flails.
"Victory belongs to the Andals, to the warriors!" Viserys saluted in return.
Argos and Hugo were directing the looting. Since the Tyroshi were dead, their armor, weapons, supplies, and precious metals were now Andal spoils.
These spoils would be collected centrally and then redistributed.
Clear rewards and punishments were the hallmark of a good army. Viserys had repeatedly demanded honor and discipline from his soldiers. No indiscriminate pillaging; they were an Andal army, not Dothraki bandits.
After several victories, Viserys commanded immense prestige. A general could have many virtues, but victory was undoubtedly the most crucial.
"Your Grace, King Viserys, I beg... I beg for your mercy. For the sake of my being an Andal, I am willing to offer my manor, offer a huge ransom." Amman pleaded incessantly.
"Too late, Lord Amman. From now on, there is no Greenvine family in Andalos. Andalos has only one King," Viserys replied.
"You... you killed so many Tyroshi, you will surely face Tyroshi retaliation. You need me, King Viserys. I have good relations with the Tyroshi; I can mediate for you." Amman Greenvine switched tactics.
"Mediate." Viserys stared at Amman. "Your so-called mediation is selling out your masters for glory. You betrayed the Andals for the friendship of Tyroshi slavers. Who do you intend to sell out this time?"
"The Free Cities are invincible! You're leading the Andals down a path of destruction, brat! Viserys!" Amman cursed, losing his composure.
"Old white-haired thief, you don't know what kind of enterprise I am creating, an enterprise you never imagined. Unfortunately, you won't see it. The Andals will embrace sword and fire once more, wash away past shame, and change everything." Viserys ignored the dying man.
Amman Greenvine and his son were tied to separate pine trees on the battlefield.
"Ser Roland. Speed is essential in war." Viserys ordered Ser Roland Lake. "The Greenvine family is a terrified opponent. I want you to take them down, leading these cavalrymen."
"As you command, Your Grace!" Ser Roland Lake knelt.
With the Greenvine patriarch and heir captured and their elite guards broken, now was the time of panic.
Strike while the iron is hot. All Andals would spurn blasphemers and traitors.
Ser Roland led a portion of the cavalry across the river to drive straight for the Greenvine estate and completely dismantle the family.
If the Greenvine supply convoy was still there, it would be recovered too, merely as a bonus.
The rest continued cleaning up the battlefield, ignoring the dazed Amman father and son.
Clop, clop, clop!
Some time after Ser Roland's cavalry departed, the sound of hoofbeats came from behind the hills again.
It was Syrio leading a group to the Red Hill battlefield.
But it wasn't just Syrio and the soldiers of Viserys Fort. There were also tall, burly knights in bright armor, wearing animal fur cloaks.
Viserys looked back. Their appearance clearly marked them as knights of the Rock family.
The knights' gazes swept over the corpse-strewn battlefield. Anyone with eyes could see it was another major victory.
"Donnel Rock, Patriarch of the Rock family." A knight of about thirty at the front introduced himself first.
Donnel looked burly and powerful. His bright plate armor was of fine quality, giving him a fierce and imposing air.
Donnel was tall, about seven feet, with muscular bulk that looked even more intimidating than Argos.
The Rock family had long been considered the strongest warriors among the old Andals.
"Viserys Targaryen, King," Viserys replied, unhurried and composed.
Viserys had been planning a special operation against the Rock family, but they had delivered themselves to his doorstep.
"Did you organize this?" Donnel asked, still somewhat skeptical and shocked. Viserys looked like a dashing young nobleman, yet he waged war with such ruthlessness.
Viserys nodded. "Before inviting Lord Donnel, I treated Lord Amman to a little main course."
"Lord Donnel! Save me! Save me! If you save me, I will offer my family manor, my wealth, and support you as King of the Andals!" Amman shouted loudly, like a drowning man spotting his only savior.
Donnel glanced at the piles of Tyroshi mercenary corpses nearby, their multicolored hair, and the fallen Trios banner.
"Did you hire these Tyroshi mercenaries?" Donnel asked.
"It was me." Amman gritted his teeth. "Viserys wants to take Andalos. He is our enemy. He wants to make enemies of the Free Cities. The Tyroshi will invade sooner or later."
"More than that," Viserys sneered. "Lord Amman tried to have a pit fighter kidnap me after I had eaten his bread and salt."
"Shut up... that was because you are too greedy! You will ruin all of Andalos sooner or later!" Amman repeated incessantly. "I did it for peace, for Andalos!"
Donnel dismounted, picked up a horsewhip, and strode toward Amman.
He didn't rescue Amman. Instead, he furiously lashed Amman across the face.
The whip twisted and struck with enraged force, drawing blood.
"Shut up, you old bastard." Donnel looked at Amman with fury. Amman's face drained of color.
"You shouldn't do this. We are both Andals. I could even support you as King..."
"I never negotiate with traitors and oathbreakers, Amman."
"I acknowledge your ability, King Viserys." Donnel looked at Viserys. "But I do not regret my harsh words. If you wish to conquer Andalos, you must first conquer the Rock."
"What do you propose?" Viserys asked.
"I demand a trial by combat. Let's see if the Seven agree to your claim as King of the Andals." Donnel looked at Viserys. "You may choose a champion."