Gendry stood on a nearby ridge, watching Deep Den as it slept in the distance.
Deep Den sat among the mountains and hills east of Lannisport, with Hornvale to its north and Silver Mountain to its south.
The Goldroad passed close by Deep Den, making this one of the gateways to the east. After all, the Westerlands were not especially large to begin with.
The red lion banner of House Lannister still flew from the highest tower of Deep Den, alongside the banner of House Lydden: a white badger on a field divided half brown and half green.
"I hear House Lydden and House Lannister are distantly related?" Gendry looked into the distance, feeling the wind along the mountaintop.
"That is correct, Your Grace," Gerold Serrett replied. "House Lydden descends from Andal adventurers who settled in the Westerlands. Joffrey Lydden entered House Lannister through marriage when he wed the only daughter of King Gerold III of Casterly Rock.
"When Gerold III died, he left no male heir. A council decided to crown Ser Joffrey, so Joffrey took the name Lannister and became the first Andal king to rule Casterly Rock and the Kingdom of the Rock."
"But that was a very long time ago, Your Grace," Ser Gerold added. "The Lannisters have hardly gone out of their way to care for these distant kin. Nearly every house has some tie to the Lion, and they have plenty of closer cousins besides."
Gendry nodded as he looked at the lion banner in the distance.
Under primogeniture, younger sons and bastards were constantly pushed away from the main line.
House Durrandon had been the same. There was once a famous king known as "Ronard the Bastard," a fearsome warrior in his day and a notorious womanizer.
According to the singers, Ronard had twenty-three wives and ninety-nine sons, most of them bastards.
That was why, even a thousand years later, many commoners in the Stormlands still claimed to carry the Durrandon Bloodline.
But only the main branch could represent such illustrious houses. Once it was cut off, it was cut off.
Black Deep Den Castle stood atop a dark-brown, jagged stone mountain. It could hardly be a convenient place to live, but it was certainly well defended.
Convenience and security in a castle always worked against each other. Cities were broad and prosperous, with every trade thriving, but they were not safe. Castles were secure, but cramped.
Two sides of Deep Den were sheer cliffs, with gatehouses guarding only the north and south. Beyond the gatehouses lay long, bare ridges.
Any army that forced its way through a gatehouse and advanced along the ridge would suffer terribly, because the defenders in the round towers flanking the castle gates could spot the invaders and send down spears, stones, and arrows.
Scouts were always the first to touch the battlefield, and the first to grasp how quickly the situation could change.
Being in the vanguard sounded dangerous, but Gendry was equipped from head to toe in divine gear: the soot-colored Valyrian steel armor known as Dragonkeeper, along with the magic sword Just Maid and the Supreme Sword.
With the Kingsguard and his personal guards protecting him, he was safer than he looked.
"The sun. The sun's light." Gendry watched the sun that would soon bloom in the sky, making sure the angle of attack would be perfect.
He was ready. This battle would go smoothly.
"After today, the Lion banner will fall from Deep Den."
The war horns had already sounded.
Gendry led his men against the south, while others blocked the north.
He brought out the archers first. Anguy, commander of the archers, was his most capable bowman. He had been gifted to begin with, and the Fletcher's experience had honed that gift further.
The archers gathered here were all elite, drawn from the Stormlands, the Vale, and Dorne.
The knights of the Eastern Marches, a land repeatedly ravaged by war, were especially fierce. It was said they learned swordplay before they learned to walk, and they were excellent with both blade and bow.
The Dornishmen used double-curved bows of horn and sinew. The men of the Stormlands and the Vale used yew bows. Anguy used a Dragonbone bow, while his personal guards carried twenty Goldenheart longbows.
The archers hid among the shadowed green trees, aiming mainly at the gate guards and any crows that tried to fly away.
"Woo-woo-woo-woo-woo-woo-woo-woo!"
Horns sounded from every direction.
The Dragons had concealed their forms in the night. Now, with the horns of dawn, they plunged down.
Balerion wheeled sharply and descended, aiming for the southern gatehouse of Deep Den.
"Boom!"
The black Dragon unleashed Dragonfire. A black-red spear of flame shot straight into the gatehouse, and the first gatehouse began to burn fiercely.
Then the other two Dragons roared, and Dragonfire rained down.
"A Dragon!"
"The Dragons are here!"
"It's King Gendry! It's the king's army!"
"Surrender! Hurry!"
The soldiers atop the southern gatehouse felt the scorching heat as the highest watchpost began to burn.
The unlucky soldiers were turned into wailing ghosts in the flames, along with those in the watchpost who had not even woken.
The rest fled the gatehouse in panic. Men still bleary from sleep suddenly found themselves facing disaster.
Some ran. Some surrendered.
With Dragons and fire above them, fleeing along the ridge was no different from dying.
Most were wise enough to understand that.
The soldiers forced open the gatehouse doors. Those who surrendered threw down their weapons and knelt on either side, and the surging army poured through the gate.
This was only a small test at Deep Den. It was not yet time for them to reveal their full strength.
Gendry drew Just Maid and led his knights charging up the ridge.
"Well Considered!"
"Well Considered!"
The soldiers shouted as the horns blared.
That was the motto of House Lydden, and the battle cry they had used since ancient times.
Hearing so many enemies suddenly shouting it left the people of Deep Den stunned.
"Charge with me!"
Gendry, wearing his helm with its twin great antlers, brandished Just Maid. His golden cloak streamed behind him like a burning yellow plain, making the king look like a terrifying giant.
"Charge with me" was never the same as "charge for me." The king was like a warrior out of legend.
Gendry himself became the spearhead of the assault, showing the knights how it was done.
This was Westerosi-style champion warfare, or perhaps the way of knights.
The white knights, the Red Viper, Lothor Bren, and Harrold Hardyng followed close behind, keeping pace with the king.
Even Ser Gerold Serrett, who had been a little slow to react, felt his blood begin to burn as he followed. Was this the charm of a warrior?
All there was to do was follow him and charge.
With a commander like this, the soldiers had it easy in a way. Victory was certain, so they only had to rush forward in one wave.
Only when the main force had already reached halfway up the ridge did the men of House Lydden panic and blow their war horns.
The first crow flew out. Then a second. Anguy shot them all down.
Gendry was the first to reach Deep Den, cutting through the battle as if nothing could stop him.
Balerion roared in the air, and the wrath of Dragons followed.
The soldiers on the walls of Deep Den hurried to form a defense, but it was far too difficult.
One soldier tried to push a barrel of oil down from the gate, only for Dragonfire to strike it. The barrel exploded, and Deep Den filled with piercing screams.
"Open!"
Gendry swung Just Maid. The blue blade flashed violently, like a ripple of ocean water coiling along the sword.
"Magic sword power, Morning Light Rune."
Just Maid's power was still fierce, but it worked better when paired with Blue Hand.
The brown oak and steel gate of Deep Den burst apart and crashed to the ground.
As it turned out, the gate had only been closed, not barred.
Gendry charged into Deep Den alone against a thousand, followed by Ser Barristan Selmy, the Red Viper, and Lothor Bren.
A few confused spearmen inside Deep Den had formed a loose, ragged spear line. Their hands trembled as they tried to attack.
Gendry looked at those poor wretches in brown-green robes, their eyes heavy with sleep. Most were old men or children.
Tywin's war had bled the Westerlands dry. This was all they had left to fill the ranks. The bravest men of the Westerlands had long since been buried in the Riverlands or King's Landing.
"It's a demon!"
The soldiers of House Lydden trembled at the sight of the towering warrior in black armor and a golden cloak, with twin great antlers on his helm and a glowing blue sword in his hand.
Gendry urged his horse forward. A few instants later, the cold work of battle was over.
"I am your king. Surrender, or die!"
Gendry did not take these soldiers' lives, but he stripped away their confidence as warriors.
The blue swordlight swept past like a wave over the sea.
Their weapons and armor shattered, but the swordlight did not cut through flesh or fat.
Gendry was learning to control the surging power of Just Maid's blade.
"Long live the king!"
The few House Lydden soldiers who had escaped death knelt on the ground and wailed, unable to control themselves.
"Long live! Long live!"
One especially unlucky boy wet himself.
Just Maid, Dawn, and House Stark's first Ice were three weapons that could rival or even surpass Valyrian steel. Their power needed no explanation.
"Charge!"
"For the king!"
"For the king!"
The royalist knights cheered wildly. They were about to win again.
Grappling hooks had begun flying up onto the walls as well, but with the Dragons raging above Deep Den, the soldiers had no will to fight.
"Roar!"
The Dragons roared overhead, their power rolling like sea and tide.
The soldiers surrendered quickly. No one wanted to contest the jaws of Dragons.
The troops led by Lord Yohn pushed in from the north, making sure no one escaped.
"Long live the Storm!"
"Long live the Storm!"
The soldiers' cheers rang throughout Deep Den.
Even the stupidest stablehand understood what the golden battle standard and the arrival of the Dragons meant.
"Ser Barristan, see to the arrangements," Gendry said.
"As you command, Your Grace!"
Ser Barristan's gaze swept over the crowd.
"Ser Balon Swann," he ordered, "search the main keep and the kitchens carefully. Leave no one out. Ser Lothor, search the Maester's tower and the armory. Lord Jack Crabb, you will handle the stables, the Sept, and the barracks. Drive everyone into the courtyard. Unless they resist to the end, no killing. Those who surrender are loyal servants of the king as well. We are not here to commit a massacre. Pay attention to the Mother's altar and the towers. Look for hidden stairs, secret rooms, and tunnels leading down the mountain."
The three Dragons descended into the courtyard, glaring hungrily at the gathered prisoners. The air grew heavy with tension.
Beef and mutton from Deep Den's kitchens were brought over. The Dragons breathed fire as they began eating in great mouthfuls. Once the meat was charred, the air filled with the acrid stink of burning flesh.
These were true Dragons, each with a wingspan of twenty-five or twenty-six feet or more, carrying the scent of fire and sulfur.
Gendry stroked Balerion's horn. He had tested the Dragon's weight before. By his estimate, once Balerion grew a little larger, he could become a Dragonrider and take to the sky.
"I pay my respects to the lawful king of the Seven Kingdoms."
Lord Lewys Lydden, dressed in a brown-green wool tunic, hurried into the courtyard square. With a thud, he was the first to bend the knee.
Lord Lewys had somehow found an old crowned stag badge of House Baratheon and pinned it to himself. It seemed he had been preparing for this for quite some time. A very slippery man indeed.
"Your Grace, blessed by the gods, I have been secretly sewing stag banners all this time, waiting for you to come and save us!"
Lord Lewys burst into tears at will, and the performance was remarkably convincing.
"Did you toast me when you were drinking?" Gendry asked, looking at the middle-aged man.
"Well, I would not say never," Lewys said, his face reddening.
It was not that Lord Lewys was disloyal. It was simply that he had now seen the greatest truth of all: terrifying Dragons.
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