Hendry Bracken's face alternated between green and white, as he stared intently at Arthur's retreating figure, almost grinding out the words through gritted teeth:
"He's crazy; he must be crazy."
"I will not participate in the siege!"
Taking a sturdy castle in three days? Did he think he was Aegon the Conqueror, riding a giant, flame-breathing dragon?
Arthur's bold declaration of retaking the city in three days was like a giant rock thrown into a calm pond, stirring up a massive storm in the allied camp.
Knights and soldiers whispered among themselves, their faces a mix of shock, doubt, and a hint of absurd anticipation.
Rosso Brun, his brow furrowed, also stepped forward anxiously and lowered his voice: "My Lord, sieges and open-field battles are two completely different matters."
"The castle walls are high and thick; the Ironborn only need to throw stones down to inflict heavy casualties on us."
Arthur merely shook his head and told Rosso, "We don't need to lay siege."
He did not, as everyone expected, summon officers to discuss tactics, nor did he order the construction of siege ladders or rams. He simply calmly called Brin and Rosso:
"Prepare your warhorses and follow me."
Under the astonished gaze of nearly two thousand allied soldiers, three warhorses slowly rode out of the camp.
The wind swept across the dry, cracked earth, kicking up a cloud of dust.
Three horses, three men, slowly and fearlessly, arrived a hundred paces from the castle's drawbridge.
The Ironborn defenders on the city walls were clearly in a state of great confusion. They saw the dark, sprawling allied camp in the distance, and they also saw these three strange knights before them:
Arthur reined in his horse, lifted his head, and his voice cut through the wind as his warhorse pawed restlessly: "Come out and talk!"
There was a commotion on the city wall. A moment later, the heavy drawbridge emitted a grating creak that set teeth on edge, slowly lowering amidst a cloud of dust.
A dozen or so Ironborn, armed with round shields, longswords, and battleaxes, rushed out.
Their movements were crude, their formation disorganized, but the murderous aura about them was real. Leading them was a burly man, somewhat hunchbacked but unusually tall, with a beard braided into countless greasy plaits, a fierce face, and cruel eyes.
They quickly fanned out, surrounding Arthur and his two companions. The leading strongman rested his longsword on his shoulder and scrutinized the three with the gaze of someone appraising goods: "Hotho Harlaw, Captain of the Fishy."
"Speak, boy, have you decided how you want to die?"
Arthur met his gaze, his young face showing no fear, his voice calm: "I will not die."
"Instead, you all will die today."
Hotho Harlaw paused, then grinned, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth, as if he had heard the funniest joke. But he couldn't laugh out loud, because there was something about Arthur that should not have been present in a young man of his age.
Arthur tilted his head towards Brin beside him. Brin expressionlessly unfastened a heavy canvas bag from the side of his saddle. He gripped the bottom of the bag, gave it a sharp shake, and two items fell into the dust.
A fiercely styled battleaxe and a unicorn-shaped helmet.
The smile on Hotho Harlaw's face instantly froze. Behind him, an uncontrollable gasp erupted from the Ironborn.
"That's the axe and helmet of First Mate Viken from Roderick's ship."
The Ironborn who gasped was immediately glared at fiercely by Hotho, scaring him into clamping his mouth shut. But the seeds of doubt and fear had already been sown.
Arthur waited quietly for them to take root in the hearts of all the Ironborn.
After a brief pause, he slowly spoke, his voice not loud: "Let's end this charade, pirate."
"Roderick's army has been annihilated by the Riverlands army."
Arthur's gaze was like a knife, piercing Hotho directly. He pointed his finger at the castle: "Now, there are no more than fifty Ironborn in this city."
Hotho Harlaw's pupils suddenly constricted, but he was, after all, an experienced old Ironborn. He suppressed the immense shock in his heart and instead laughed cunningly.
He pointed the tip of his sword at the dense crowd of heads on the city wall and retorted:
"Is that so, little brat? Look up again, and look carefully! Are there fewer than four hundred people here!"
Arthur didn't even look up, just stared intently into Hotho's eyes, his tone imbued with an undeniable oppressiveness:
"Everyone perished on land; your drowned god did not protect them. You don't need to argue with me; there are only forty or fifty fighting Ironborn in the city."
Hotho Harlaw's face twitched. Had Roderick's army really been annihilated, or was the other party trying to deceive him? But the other party had indeed accurately stated the number of troops in the city. He was now deep inland, and a slim chance of survival was the only truth.
He showed a cruel smile, trying to mask his inner unease with toughness: "You can certainly try, little brat, and see if your men climb the walls first, or if I cut off your head and kick it around like a ball first."
"Try?" Arthur repeated, shaking his head. He drew his sword and pointed it at the military camp behind him. "Of course, we'll try."
"We have two thousand men; you have fifty defenders. If we scale the walls from all sides, tell me, how many men can you spare to defend one side of the wall?"
Hotho Harlaw frowned. If you know all this so clearly, why don't you attack directly? Why did you come here?
He didn't know what this young man was up to.
"Boy, what exactly do you mean?"
Arthur slowly began: "Tonight, our army will retreat three leagues."
"You, take advantage of tonight, leave the city. I will take the castle."
A deathly silence. A few seconds later, Hotho Harlaw and all the Ironborn erupted in thunderous laughter: "How do I know you're not trying to lure us out of the castle, then set an ambush in the wilderness and kill us all!"
Arthur's aura suddenly turned sharp, and his voice grew cold: "You have no choice, pirate!"
"You are merely choosing between an early death and a late death. Soon, another three thousand Riverrun reinforcements will arrive."
"If I didn't want my army to suffer casualties in a siege, I could order the attack right now."
"Accept, and I get the military merit and the castle; you get a way out."
Feeling completely suppressed in the conversation, a fierce glint flashed in Hotho Harlaw's eyes. We are Ironborn; there are no rules. If that's the case, we'll take you as a prisoner. He gestured to the surrounding Ironborn, signaling them to capture the young man before them.
Just as the Ironborn gripped their weapons, preparing to rush forward, Brin and Rosso, who had been silently standing behind Arthur, placed their hands on their waists. Neither spoke, but they coldly swept their gaze around.
Brin spurred his horse forward, glaring at the restive crowd. The few restless Ironborn felt like rabbits targeted by a giant bear, their bodies stiffening, and they subconsciously halted their steps.
Hotho Harlaw looked at the two-meter-tall, tower-like giant before him, and then at the imposing young man.
Ultimately, he did not give the order to act, but he neither accepted nor refused Arthur's proposal. He simply gave him a deep look, as if to engrave him in his memory, and then waved his hand.
The two-meter-tall giant in plate armor was incredibly intimidating. The dozen or so Ironborn looked as if they had been granted a great pardon, clustering around him as they retreated back to the castle's drawbridge.
As the heavy bridge slowly rose and the castle gate closed again, when Arthur returned to the camp, he immediately issued an order that everyone found incomprehensible.
"The entire army will strike camp, retreat three leagues, and set up camp again."
Hendry Bracken could hardly believe his ears. He looked at the confused expressions of his knights and couldn't help but sneer inwardly, thinking that the arrogant and presumptuous boy had been scared witless by the Ironborn and now only dared to watch from afar.
Lord Lymon Lannister also leaned on his sword, walking worriedly to Arthur, expressing his doubts about this decision. Arthur merely calmly told the old man to prepare the golden dragon payment, and the castle would be in his hands within two days.
The army slowly began to retreat. Far from the castle, three leagues, fifteen miles away, scattered campfires began to burn again.
As night fell, on the walls of Leicester, Hotho Harlaw paced anxiously back and forth. A dark figure quietly slipped back from the darkness below the city, pulled up by a hoist.
The scout's voice carried irrepressible shock: "Captain, it's true!"
"That army...really retreated three leagues!"
This news, like a spark falling into a powder keg, caused the remaining dozens of Ironborn to immediately surround Hotho, chattering excitedly.
"Captain, what do we do now? Is what that boy said true?"
"Could he be bluffing? Waiting for us to leave the castle to ambush and kill us all!"
"But staying here is a dead end for us too!"
Hotho waved everyone away and paced back and forth alone. He repeatedly considered everything that had happened today. The young man had the weapons and helmet of Roderick, that idiot's closest first mate, and also knew there were only forty or fifty men in his city. It was highly possible that Roderick's army was truly annihilated, and if so, he was deep inland with no way out.
Why would he let him go? If he wanted to fight, now was the best opportunity. His retreat could only be explained as he said: he didn't want to suffer any casualties to take this castle, gain military merit, and receive rewards from the Iron Throne. Taking a castle occupied by four or five hundred Ironborn and one occupied by forty or fifty Ironborn yielded different merits.
Trapped deep inland, isolated in a castle, with no reinforcements, that young man was right: he now only faced the difference between an early death and a late death. Hotho Harlaw finally stopped pacing.
Take a gamble, and perhaps live. Stay, and death is certain.
He took a deep breath and quietly ordered the anxiously waiting Ironborn beside him: "Pass on my command: divide the four hundred-plus Riverlands prisoners into eight teams and send them out of the city in different directions."
"Everyone, abandon the stolen gold, silver, and treasures. Only take weapons and water. We will blend in among them."
"It's time for us to go home."
-------------------------
If you enjoy this story, you can read 70+ advanced chapters on Patreon!
Webnovel will keep getting 1 new chapter every day but Patreon readers can stay far ahead.
Maybe it's not a big deal now… maybe it will be later.
[email protected]/Greyhounds
"And If you're enjoying it, drop a Power Stone for me!"