Outside Riverrun,the northern encampment.
The Kingslayer, Jaime, sat upright inside his tent. Around him were the bannermen sworn to House Lannister.
Unlike most of the vassals, whose faces were filled with excitement, Jaime Lannister looked slightly weary. To outsiders, he had won several great battles in succession, each one brilliant and decisive—but the hardships behind them were not something others could truly understand.
One of the vassals, Count Ilyn, laughed heartily as he looked at the map.
"The morale inside the city is on the verge of collapse. Just three more days, and we'll take Riverrun!"
Jaime also let out a long breath.
"Once Riverrun falls, those little wolf cubs of the North won't dare step out of the swamps again. The war with the North will be over."
Count Banefort's face was glowing with excitement.
"Since the ancient War of Raging Flames, there hasn't been such a glorious campaign. Ser Jaime, breaking the Riverlands by your own strength alone—there hasn't been such a legendary figure in a very long time!"
All of House Lannister's vassals were delighted, because they could already smell the scent of rich, tender meat.
Large stretches of fertile land in the Riverlands had become ownerless due to the war.
Every one of them had a chance to seize a share for their own families. War was the art of slaughter, and also the fastest means of expansion.
Jaime said nothing, but a hint of pride showed on his face.
As a knight, being able to fight such a campaign was enough to leave his name in the annals of history. For someone like him, who valued honor and the knightly code, this was an immense comfort.
Back in the days of the Mad King, for the sake of the people of King's Landing, he had not hesitated to bear the infamy of "Kingslayer." Now, at last, he had a chance to change his reputation, and his heart was filled with relief.
Raising the wine in his cup, Jaime gestured to all his subordinates.
"For Lannister. Cheers."
"Lannister forever! The Westerlands forever!"
Amid the joyful atmosphere, the nobles drank deeply from their cups.
At that moment, an inconspicuous scout burst into the tent, shattering the harmony.
"Lord Jaime, we've discovered enemy cavalry on the northern hillside. They're flying the Tully fish banner."
Jaime didn't take it seriously.
"That ridiculous Blackwood is sending people to harass us again, thinking this will delay our advance."
Count Ilyn, standing nearby, barked angrily, "How many of them?"
The scouts sent out earlier hadn't returned yet. This scout who came to report had only gone out a short distance himself and didn't know the situation beyond the hill very well. He could only answer vaguely.
"It's too dark at night to see clearly. About a dozen cavalry, I think."
Count Ilyn burst out laughing.
"Looks like that Blackwood fellow is truly out of ideas, sending only a dozen men. Lord Jaime, let me take some men and bring their heads back."
Jaime didn't put such a small force in his eyes at all. He didn't even step out of the tent, merely waving his hand.
"Then I'll leave it to you."
The Riverlands' soldiers had already been beaten into disarray by Jaime. Many of them would flee the moment they saw the lion banner, with no will to fight at all. So Jaime instinctively believed the Riverlands troops were not worth mentioning.
Moreover, he hadn't received any news from the North recently, so that possibility never crossed his mind.
Count Ilyn was brimming with confidence. Returning to his own tent, he gathered over thirty cavalry, then followed the reporting scout toward the hillside.
The moonlight that night was exceptionally bright.
Count Ilyn saw several mounted soldiers scattered atop the hillside, with one at the front holding the fish-banner of House Tully.
"Hahaha! Look carefully, all of you. Their armor is ours for the taking. Charge with me!"
Having won two major battles in a row, Count Ilyn was full of confidence. He spurred his horse forward, cracked his whip, brandished the lance in his hand, and charged toward that group of Riverlands cavalry.
Just as expected, those Riverlands riders immediately turned and fled toward the back of the hill, as if they had been terrified by Count Ilyn's ferocity.
Seeing the enemy flee in panic, Count Ilyn grew even more excited. He urged his horse onward and roared for the soldiers behind him to keep up.
"Charge, all of you! Whoever kills those cowards can pick any horse or armor he wants—first come, first served!"
The remaining scout stayed below the hill, leisurely waiting for the outcome of the battle.
Soon, from the other side of the hill came the sounds of weapons clashing and armor scraping. Count Ilyn and his cavalry shouted curses at the top of their lungs, and screams rang out without end.
"Looks like the fight will be over in ten minutes or so. Then I can head back and report the good news to Lord Jaime!"
The scout thought to himself, bored.
Before long, the shouting from the other side of the hill gradually quieted down. The battle seemed to be reaching its conclusion.
But to the scout's shock, he didn't see Count Ilyn returning victorious.
Instead, he could hardly believe his own eyes.
Those Tully cavalrymen had actually returned from the other side of the hill, once again holding their banners aloft, silently standing in the same place as before.
They didn't say a word.
They were utterly silent.
Yet that silence pressed down on the scout with an inexplicable sense of oppression, as if even breathing had become difficult.
Where was Lord Ilyn?
Where were his cavalry?
Were they all… wiped out?
Not daring to think further, the scout quickly remembered his duty. He kicked his spurs hard and fled frantically toward Jaime's main camp.
Those Tully cavalrymen didn't move an inch.
Like statues, they stood atop the hill, allowing the scout to go back and report the news, their eyes filled with cold indifference.
"What?! Count Ilyn has been captured?!"
Inside the tent, Jaime flew into a rage upon hearing the report. But at the same time, he immediately realized that this opponent was no simple foe.
He grabbed the armor beside him and donned it in an extremely short time.
"Gather all mounted troops. I want to see who has such ability!"
Three thousand cavalry instantly stirred, like water splashed into a pot of boiling oil. The entire camp erupted—leading horses, putting on armor, searching for ancestral swords—chaos everywhere.
After more than ten minutes, Jaime's three thousand cavalry successfully assembled and followed the Kingslayer toward the small hill at the rear.
After only a few steps, Jaime saw those dozen or so cavalrymen standing like sculptures. He didn't recognize the man at their head, which meant the opponent wasn't a great noble with a well-known name.
Although they differed somewhat from the Tully knights he usually saw, Jaime still didn't take them seriously.
His anger had yet to subside, and he intended to personally lead the charge.
Count Banefort stopped him at once.
"Lord Jaime, you are our army's supreme commander. Your status is too noble to risk lightly. Allow me to go in your stead."
Jaime knew full well that Banefort had his eye on those horses and suits of armor. Since Count Banefort was determined to monopolize the spoils of war, he might as well let him have his way.
So he agreed to Banefort's request.
Unlike the reckless Count Ilyn, Count Banefort was cautious and meticulous. He brought over a hundred cavalrymen. With a tenfold advantage in numbers, even if there were a one-in-ten-thousand chance they couldn't defeat the enemy, they should at least be able to retreat safely, right?
Thanks to [Lou Xia Wang Xiaohei] for the monthly ticket.
...
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"Game of Thrones: Dragon Prince"
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"Game of Thrones The Glory of a Knight"
(End Chapter)