No matter how perilous a fortress is, it needs people to garrison it; otherwise, it is nothing more than a difficult stretch of road.
Such was the case with the Golden Tooth. Jon used false orders to move most of the defenders away, then launched a sudden assault with twenty thousand troops, successfully breaching it.
As the first light of dawn touched the horizon, Jon entered the city. Only scattered resistance remained. With a fierce assault backed by overwhelming numbers, and considering that more than half of the Golden Tooth's defenders were untrained miners who had no reason to fight to the death, the outcome was inevitable.
Under the firelight, these emaciated miners looked like skeletons, making Jon lament that Tywin truly didn't treat people as human beings.
With no preferential treatment in peacetime, there was naturally no loyalty to speak of in wartime.
When Jon announced that laying down arms would spare their lives, these people, who had spent almost their entire lives toiling in the gold mines, threw down their weapons without hesitation, as if the steel burned their hands.
When Jon found Daven, he was completely surrounded by Martin's heavy armored battalion. Daven stood back-to-back with his few remaining soldiers, looking at the surrounding enemies with panic.
The defending commander was trapped; the battle was over without any suspense.
They were cornered against the mossy wall of a tower. The morning sun hit them just so, like the last bit of mercy this world had to offer them.
"Ask him if he wants to surrender," Jon turned and said to his squire, Robbett Glover.
Robbett, who had bulked up quite a bit following Jon, approached Daven and conveyed Jon's message.
However, Daven sneered and shouted loudly in Jon's direction: "Jon, you... you are just like your Stannis, who used schemes and plots to seize the throne! Just like him! You had that red witch replace Lord Tywin's orders! You... you despicable bastard!!!"
Daven had been hit by several arrows, and after spending a long time comforting Lady Lefford the night before, he was panting heavily, clearly exhausted to the limit.
Seeing his attitude, Jon had no interest in engaging in a war of words.
Even Jaime could be a prisoner, yet this guy showed not a shred of intent to surrender.
Just as Jon was about to order his archers to shoot Daven, a figure with white hair and beard ran out. It was Rickard Karstark.
"Jon, let me kill him!" Rickard approached Daven, hefting his broadsword.
He still couldn't let go of the death of his two youngest sons. Only more Lannister blood could quell this aged father's rage.
"Jaime killed two of my sons, so I must kill at least two Lannisters to offer to their spirits!" Rickard said in a deep voice. A gust of wind blew his snow-white hair and beard; under the night sky, he truly resembled the "Sun of Winter" on the Karstark banner.
Jon saw no need to stop him. Instead, he ordered his soldiers to quickly secure the perimeter of the Golden Tooth while he watched over Rickard to prevent any accidents.
After all, House Karstark had contributed a thousand men to his army. Although he was the commander-in-chief, he had to give Rickard this face.
Rickard's appearance made Daven feel a fire burning in his chest. Seeing his father's killer right in front of him (Rickard had killed Daven's father, Stafford Lannister, at the Battle of Oxcross), Daven raised his sword to meet him. The two burly men hacked at each other, the clash of steel torturing everyone's eardrums.
Daven was younger, after all. A spinning slash carried immense force. Fortunately, Rickard was experienced and raised his sword in time to block. But Daven was faster and kicked Rickard straight in the stomach.
The distance between them widened significantly. A soldier quickly supported Rickard by his lower back as he was about to fall, helping him steady himself. But all he got was Rickard's curse: "Get away!"
Steadying himself, Rickard threw his helmet to the ground in anger and attacked again. Daven roared and met him head-on.
Seeing this scene, Jon turned his head while no one was paying attention and took a bow and arrow from an archer, ready to strike at any moment.
Perhaps realizing he was doomed to die today, Daven calmed down completely. His martial skills even showed significant improvement, defending against Rickard's attacks flawlessly.
Finally, Rickard exposed a flaw again. His sword was knocked aside violently by Daven, and Daven slammed his shoulder into Rickard, knocking him to the ground. Nearing sixty, Rickard couldn't withstand the impact of a man in his prime. Weighed down by heavy armor, he couldn't get up.
Daven finally seized the opportunity. With the gleam of vengeance in his eyes, he swung a horizontal slash straight at Rickard's face.
Rickard was too old. When he followed Robb south and crowned him, he thought it might be his last campaign.
Even if he lived to return, he would likely die in the endless winter approaching the North.
People around wanted to intervene, but it seemed too late. Daven swung his sword, but the strike went wide. An arrow had appeared in his wrist, its fletching still trembling slightly.
Before Daven could react, another arrow buried itself directly in his face. His burly body stiffened for a second, then fell straight down.
Jon went to Rickard's side and reached out to pull him up.
---
Inside the castle's Great Hall, Loras still refused to believe that Jon had made Daven move his army away from the Golden Tooth just by "acting."
His entire worldview seemed to have taken a massive hit. He laid his sword across his knees, staring blankly at the ornate scabbard.
Beside him, Garlan was talking to the maester accompanying the Tyrell forces.
"...The Golden Tooth's garrison was moved away... we..." Loras knew Garlan was preparing a battle report for Highgarden, reporting Jon's victory. He couldn't hear clearly, or perhaps he didn't want to.
He wasn't the only one; others were equally confused about how Jon's strategy had worked.
For example, Brynden, who had never thought highly of Jon's plan, was now quietly adjusting his arm guards. He had always thought Jon was thinking too simply; now it seemed he himself had been thinking too complicatedly.
Hmph! I want to see how this bastard plans to breach Casterly Rock! Loras thought somewhat defiantly. Even if Daven is a fool, Tywin surely isn't.
That was Tywin!
Loras thought back to how Jon had refused his request to siege earlier and calmed down again.
He remembered Jon's father, Eddard. When the Mountain was ravaging the Riverlands, Loras had asked Eddard to let him lead troops to capture the Mountain, but Eddard refused him too.
Back then, he was unconvinced. But Jon had proven himself with one victory after another, leaving him speechless.
Is it because I am a Tyrell, so... Loras suddenly realized something, but couldn't quite figure it out.
While the group pondered with their own thoughts, Jon entered the hall, followed by his squire Robbett Glover, Rickard, Martin, and others.
Upon entering, he sat naturally in the main seat and announced his next battle plan.
"My lords, we fought this battle well. We breached the Golden Tooth like a thunderbolt. Neither Sarsfield behind the Golden Tooth nor Tywin, who is watching this area closely, have reacted yet. So, I plan to let the army rest for half a day, eat their fill, and pack five days of rations. Before sunset tomorrow, we march for Sarsfield, and I intend to take it with the utmost speed!" Jon looked at everyone as he spoke.
Brynden stared at Jon unblinkingly. He felt this young man's appetite was too big, and frankly, a bit terrifying.
Golden Tooth — Sarsfield — Casterly Rock.
Taking the Golden Tooth was like stripping Casterly Rock of its armor. Taking Sarsfield would be like pressing a dagger against Tywin's throat.
In Brynden's view, they should perhaps use the Golden Tooth as a base to seize territory now. He still didn't know how Jon planned to take Casterly Rock.
But the successful capture of the Golden Tooth had softened his attitude. He was somewhat looking forward to seeing what means Jon would use.
However, while Sarsfield might not be hard to take, attacking Casterly Rock directly would likely still be impossible.
Tywin had definitely amassed a large army in the southern Westerlands. Once Jon arrived at Casterly Rock, that army would inevitably return to aid.
Twenty thousand troops facing a returning Western army while also guarding against a sudden strike from Casterly Rock... no matter how you looked at it, attacking Casterly Rock directly wasn't a good idea.
Unless Jon could quickly crush the returning Western army.
Brynden felt obligated to find an opportunity to remind Jon. Conquering a kingdom was different from breaching a city.
Just as Jon finished stating his battle plan, Loras stood up and said, "Leave the attack on Sarsfield to me, is that acceptable?"
Looking at Jon's face, Loras's tone held a bit more inquiry and probing, rather than his usual willful demand to do whatever he pleased.
Jon looked at Loras and thought for a moment. Sarsfield was just a small castle; taking it with the advantage of surprise wouldn't be difficult.
However, he wasn't comfortable leaving it solely to Loras. Someone would have to assist him.
In the end, Jon agreed to let Loras participate in the attack on Sarsfield, but didn't give him sole command.
"Ser Rickard."
Hearing Jon's voice, Rickard hurriedly stood up.
During his duel with Daven, he had almost thought he was going to die, but Jon had saved him. And Jon's archery was miraculous.
Leaving aside that Daven's fast-moving hand was hard to even see with the naked eye, it was night. Yet Jon had accurately shot his hand, saving Rickard's life.
Sometimes Rickard felt like it was all a dream. When he first met Jon, the boy was just Robb's henchman, risking his life against Roose Bolton's difficulties.
Now he had grown into a lord in his own right. It was truly astounding.
But it was precisely this potential that made him decide to hand Karhold over to his eldest son Harrion early. Harrion had fought side-by-side with Jon; if trouble arose in the future, Jon would likely help.
Even if he didn't intervene directly with troops, Jon possessed considerable influence. Although the Karstarks likely wouldn't face trouble in the North, with only one son left out of three, Rickard wanted to consider every angle.
Rickard had volunteered to serve Jon to repay a debt of gratitude. Now, Jon's favor had compounded like interest—it was becoming impossible to repay.