King's Landing, the south bank of the Blackwater.
Gendry glanced toward the river to the north. The fighting in the river channel was just as savage, but the more important battle was still the clash of cavalry and infantry on the south bank. Greed was the great enemy of the slave masters of the East. They actually thought they could take both sides at once, though the troops sent into the river were mostly the fools from Yunkai, so their loss would not affect the main force.
"The Volantene, the Lyseni, and the slave masters who fled the Two Cities are from Valyrian colonies, while Yunkai, Meereen, Astapor, and New Ghis are all sons of the Harpy, which makes them Ghiscari. Then there are Tolos and Elyria, joining the fun with Slaver's Bay," Lothor said. "One city-state is missing. Qarth, the City of the World."
"This is already a union of most of the slave city-states," Gendry said to Lothor Brune. "A life-or-death battle with the slave masters was always waiting for me. I just didn't expect it to come this early."
"So many men." Gendry watched the armies of the slave city-states advance toward his main force. Malaquo had not grown old and burned out his mind. His confidence came from the sheer size of his army and what he had mobilized.
"Long live Volantis!"
"Long live the Harpy!"
"Long live the Red God!"
The Volantene army stretched like a forest, holding high the banners of Volantis and the Harpy as they advanced in phalanxes, shouting their battle cries. If this had been a siege, perhaps they could have cut off water and supply lines, but for now it was a battle of positions.
At the center were Volantis's Tiger Cloaks, citizen soldiers, the troops and swordsmen of Lys, New Ghis's Iron Legions, Astapor's Unsullied, along with the slingers of Tolos and the crossbowmen of Elyria. On the left were the slave soldiers and gladiators of Meereen and Yunkai. On the right were the mercenary Companies they had hired, the Windblown, the Stormcrows, and others.
"We have already won over certain Khal from the Great Grasslands, but those horsemen do not dare cross the sea," Malaquo thought as he sat at the rear and watched the battlefield. The nobles had naturally contacted the Khal as well. There was also a blood feud between the Khal and the Breaker. The Storm had slaughtered several Khal.
But even without those barbarians, Malaquo believed that gathering nearly all the elite forces of the slaveholding world had created an army that could not be stopped. This was the decisive battle for the survival of the slave order. Life or death would be decided here.
"Long live the Storm!"
"Long live the Storm!"
The horns of the Storm army sounded. In the main formation, the soldiers raised their ironwood shields edged with steel and formed a crescent, like a steel hedgehog bristling with spikes on both sides.
"Draw! Loose!" Anguy gave the order. The Stormlands longbowmen on the flanks drew their bowstrings full and poured arrows into the enemy ranks ahead. The longbowmen and swordsmen of the Marches had always been famous throughout the Seven Kingdoms, and now they also had prepared Summer Isles archers with them.
The longbowmen opened their attack on the Volantene, the Lyseni, the soldiers of the Ghiscari vassal city-states, and the mercenaries they had brought. The arrows targeted the cavalry first. Once the warhorses were shot down in swathes, the battle would become much simpler. Besides, the Volantene coalition did not have many knights to begin with.
"Thud!"
"Thud!"
When the warhorses crashed down, the cavalry of the Volantene coalition fell with them. Those still advancing across the broken, muddy ground had to keep their mounts from slipping. The infantry strode forward, but the mud and the blood-soaked road hindered their vision and slowed their pace.
"Watch the trebuchets!"
Behind the shield wall, the arms of the Stormlands' giant trebuchets rose, one after another. Hundreds of stones climbed into the dark sky, each as large as a man's head. Arrows and stones blotted out the air, and soldiers of the allied army died one after another.
Gendry had copied the tactics of the "Mud Battle." Turn the ground to mud, hold the center with a shield wall, and place longbowmen and assault troops on both flanks. One of his ancestors had lost in the Mud Battle. He meant to win in one.
The Volantene had crossed the sea to come here. This land was already wet, and after the knights had churned it up again and again, river water had been drawn in to soak and loosen it further. But Volantis, the Ghiscari city-states, and Westeros were not the same. Their main forces, the Tiger Cloaks, the Iron Legions of New Ghis, and the Unsullied, were almost all infantry.
"Damn it, how did it turn out like this?" the Tattered Prince said with a frown. He saw the soft, muddy ground in the distance, the arrows and stones screaming through the air, and the cavalry in the center struggling to advance. To keep pressing forward would be no different from sending cavalry to their deaths.
"Pass on my order. Advance carefully and slow the march," the Tattered Prince said in a low voice, sending the order through the Windblown Company. He had dealt with Gendry before. He simply was not sure whether Volantis could hold.
"We need to break the regular legions." Gendry looked out on horseback toward the Volantene formation. The Volantene had deployed their citizen soldiers and Tiger Cloaks, and the citizen soldiers were stronger than the Tiger Cloaks. The Iron Legions of New Ghis had been trained entirely in the style of the Unsullied, though these men were all Ghiscari citizens. Behind them stood Astapor's four thousand Unsullied, the strongest fist of the army, who needed to keep their formation.
The Volantene citizen soldiers roared loudly, while the slave soldiers advanced in silence, their cheeks marked with green stripes. The Iron Legions of New Ghis, six thousand men to a legion, had also formed spear formations. New Ghis had actually sent two whole legions.
Though they had already suffered heavy losses, the Volantene coalition still crossed the long stretch of mud and pressed in. These armies looked powerful, but they were hardly flawless.
"Hoo! Hoo! Hoo!"
The two hundred slingers of Tolos made ready. Under heavy protection, they rushed onto the battlefield, sending lead balls through the air in beautiful arcs. They threw soft lead shot rather than stones, and those could do terrible damage to the human body. The crossbowmen of Elyria followed them, making up two uncommon units.
The lead balls struck the Storm army's shield wall and caused a brief disturbance, but in the end the shield wall did not break. Some soldiers were hit in the face, their helmets crushed flat as blood ran down.
"Longbowmen, shoot the enemy archers and slingers first." The order came from Gendry, and the longbowmen's merciless rain of arrows came down.
"Whoosh!"
Arrows cut through the sky and punched straight through enemy bodies. Some of the Tolos slingers failed to dodge in time and were shot down one by one by the longbows. The rest lost their nerve and hid within the main army.
Gendry and Ser Barristan withdrew into the shield wall, then rode into the deep woods where the assault force waited.
At that moment, it was like waves striking rock. The Volantene infantry rushing forward crashed against the rock like waves, but the Stormlands shield wall stood unmoving as a mountain.
"Kill!"
With so many warhorses dead or wounded, the Volantene had no choice but to rely on spear formations and fight the Stormlands soldiers directly. They attacked the shield wall with spears, axes, and other weapons, but the shield wall was difficult to move. Wherever a gap appeared, Stormlands reserves immediately stepped forward to fill it. One Volantene axeman foolishly charged straight at the formation and was run through by a long spear, the blade piercing his armor, his muscle, and his lungs.
Many soldiers' bodies piled up on the ground, and the troops behind them tried to use their comrades' flesh as footholds to climb over the shield wall.
"The Unsullied are not invincible. They have simply endured years of harsh training and drunk the wine of courage." Gendry watched the Unsullied army from Astapor intently. The citizen soldiers of New Ghis had been modeled after the Unsullied, but they were only an inferior version.
Astapor's leader, Kraznys mo Nakloz, had the standard look of a Ghiscari: thickset and fat, with amber skin, a broad nose, black eyes, and hair that stood straight up, either black, dark red, or a mix of red and black.
"I heard the Unsullied have something like a command baton," Gendry said.
"You mean that. I see it," Ser Barristan said. He saw the slaver holding a whip. Its handle was carved from black Dragonbone and inlaid with gold, with nine long leather thongs attached, each tipped with a gilded claw. The golden ball at the end of the handle was shaped like a woman's head, its mouth filled with ivory fangs. That whip was said to be called Harpy's Finger.
"That's it." Gendry nodded. This was a fine opportunity. The Iron Legions of New Ghis could not be taken, but the Unsullied might be worth a try. "Anything won on the battlefield costs nothing."
"The elephants are moving!" Ser Barristan said in surprise.
Elephants had appeared in Malaquo's formation. Neither New Ghis nor Volantis lacked elephants. They had crossed the sea, and many must have died along the way, for only a few were now being sent into battle.
"Launch the pitch pots. Switch the trebuchets to barrels," Gendry ordered. Elephants feared fire. In truth, they feared Dragons even more. If the Dragon had not been so small, he would certainly have brought it here.
Shrieking barrels of burning pitch came crashing down. The elephants stepped through mud and blood, saw the scattered flames, and in their fright became even more enraged.
Then an even more terrible blaze lit up. Along the Blackwater Rush and north of King's Landing, fires erupted everywhere, and the elephants grew even more terrified.
"Do we advance?" Lothor asked. There was an opening before them. The explosions of fire along the Blackwater Rush had made the Volantene army hesitate.
"We hold," Gendry said.
...
On the walls of King's Landing, fire-lances shot out death. Inside the Mud Gate, enormous trebuchets hurled great stones.
On the Blackwater Rush, the ships of Volantis's "saviors" patrolled the river, crossing paths with the royal warships. The channel was narrow, turning the fighting into ramming actions and head-on clashes.
Landing was no easy task. The riverbank had been turned into scorched earth. The Lannisters had burned every building to the ground and driven all sorts of people behind the Mud Gate. Charred masts and sunken ships crowded the shore, keeping vessels from drawing close to the long stone quay.
"Are those the crystals of the Great Sept?" Magister Rhaen Haen said. The sun shone on the seven crystal towers of the Great Sept of Baelor, making them glitter brilliantly.
"Yes, my lord."
"Excellent. Westeros is a wealthy city. The Great Sept and the Red Keep must be full of gold and jewels. We are only helping ourselves to a little interest." The exiled Magister of Tyrosh was terribly greedy. Because of the Storm, he had nearly lost everything, and he hated Westeros.
"They've rammed her!"
Though the Lyseni were awkward fighters, their sailors were skilled. Two Lyseni ships drove into Lady's Shame at the same time, smashing her from stem to stern with terrifying force.
Then the Lyseni ships backed away, and river water poured into the great holes they had torn open. Lady's Shame broke apart before the eyes of the Lyseni, and crowds of men fell into the river. The living struggled to survive, the dead floated in silence, while those in heavy plate or mail, dead or alive, sank straight to the bottom and moved no more.
Some lucky Lyseni and Tyroshi ships lowered gangplanks. Archers and swordsmen poured in a noisy rush onto the narrow strip of shore between cliff and river.
"These people of King's Landing truly don't know what's good for them." The Lyseni, along with the exiles, Tyroshi, and other slave masters, all wanted to take a profit. Their army was so abundant that they could afford to split it this way.
The attackers rushed onto the narrow beach between the cliff and the river. Stones fell from the castle like rain, bouncing and crashing down among arrows and spears. But the angle was too narrow, and under the shelter of the cliffs, those weapons did little. Other ships landed farther upstream.
At that moment, the defenders of King's Landing came out. They charged down the riverbank, their horses' iron hooves splashing through the shallows. Knights cut into the archers like wolves scattering chicks. Most had no time even to nock an arrow before they were driven back onto the ships, or into the river. Infantry hurried forward, resisting with spears and battle-axes, and within moments the whole scene was a spray of blood and flesh.
"Get back, you thieving sons of bitches!" the Hound cursed. He rode a fine horse, battle-axe in hand, his pure white cloak snapping in the wind. Anyone who came close was cut down by his axe without another word.
But the Lyseni sent the Yunkaii slave soldiers forward. The slaves of Little Pigeon and Clanker Lord attacked as though they cost nothing. If King's Landing was opened, there would be even more fine, reliable slaves to take.
"What is that?" Some of the attackers saw a smear of ghostly green ahead.
A flash of green light crossed their vision, flew forward, and landed to port. In an instant, a nest of emerald vipers hissed up from the stern of Lady Lys, writhing and burning. Terrified screams came from the front.
"Wildfire!"
"Back," Magister Rhaen began, but before he could finish, green light flared ahead.
Fire swallowed Lady Lys at a speed he could hardly imagine, then spread to the Gentle Lady beside her. Men wreathed in green flame leapt into the water, howling with inhuman screams.
"What is going on?" Rhaen's eyes widened, and he ordered the ships to retreat at once. He had heard of this substance, but had it not been nearly exhausted?
"So there is still some left."
Amid the black smoke and green fire filling the sky, the Lyseni glimpsed a swarm of small boats drifting downstream: ferries, rowboats, barges, rafts, small sailboats, and cargo ships so rotten their hulls could barely stay afloat, all jumbled together in chaos.
"A futile struggle. I knew they could not have much of this stuff left." Seeing that the enemy seemed to have exhausted their tricks, Magister Rhaen found his courage again. Some of their warships had already moved upstream. This was a rare chance.
"Is that all?" Rhaen wondered.
"Don't touch the wrecks!" a Lyseni suddenly shouted, but one wreck had already been seized by the grinning Yunkaii.
Thick green blood seeped from the gaps between the planks. Then came fire that filled the sky.
...
Green flame coiled across the sky and riverbank, but no one paid it any mind, because the struggle between the two sides still raged on.
"Those fools," Malaquo cursed helplessly. Yet the bulk of his main force remained intact and had not suffered any serious damage. He was merely speechless at the greed of those men.
Those greedy slave masters, the Lyseni, the fleeing Tyroshi, the Myrish slave masters, the Yunkaii, and the rest, were all vanishing into the fire.
By now, the fighting before the shield wall had reached its fiercest point. Corpses lay scattered and tangled across the ground.
Another charge, another stand. Both sides were grinding each other down through sheer courage. Both were exhausted, as if their strength was giving out.
But the Volantene had begun using rotating charges, and the Unsullied were warriors who did not know fatigue. The Unsullied held firm while others attacked the shield wall with great axes. The shield wall began to show signs of loosening.
Blood covered the ground. The banners of the Harpy and the Volantene elephant had been thrown into the mud, drenched in blood.
"They won't hold much longer." Gendry looked at his formation. At this point, time seemed to be running out. But there was still the rear. The rear.
"Prince, our scouts have sent word." Robar rushed into the forest, speaking hurriedly.
"Tywin's army and the Rose's army have appeared not far behind us."
"Have they joined forces?" Gendry asked.
"No. One is to the north, one to the south. Their timing is different. Tywin's army is moving faster. It doesn't look like an alliance, but their numbers..." Robar said.
"So they came after all. The reserves from the Vale and Crackclaw Point are not to move. Everything was for this moment," Gendry said, turning the words over.
Scouts came and went without pause, shuttling between the two camps. If the Rose softened its stance, they might truly end up facing enemies on two fronts.
"Has the Rose's army attacked?"
"No."
"Has House Tyrell's army moved?"
"No."
Gendry gripped Orphan-Maker and said firmly, "Tell Lord Yohn to use the trebuchets on House Tyrell's position at once."
"What?" Robar Royce and Harry the Arse were both a little confused.
"Go. My charge is about to begin. I need the Rose to move."
"As you command!"
A moment later, the rumbling trebuchets began operating again. Huge stones started falling near the Tyrell positions. Though they did not strike any soldiers, they caused an enormous uproar.
The army of the Rose had hurried as fast as it could and finally reached this vast battlefield. Everywhere were the marks of fire and blood. The river channel at King's Landing burned with green flame. Green fire also burned at the northern gate of King's Landing, and on the south bank of the Blackwater, the Rose could see two great armies locked in battle along the shore: the Storm and Volantis.
"What in the world is going on?" Mace Tyrell shouted in panic. "How is the battle ahead? All I can see is raging fire. I heard the Volantene have joined this battle too."
"It's too late, Father," Garlan said anxiously. "If we neither fight nor retreat, the army's morale will fall into chaos. The Lannisters have only a little over twenty thousand men. We have more than fifty thousand."
"But Tywin's army is also ahead. We can still watch for a little longer..." Mace's eyes widened as he saw, on the south bank of the Blackwater, Tywin's army hurrying toward them as well.
Suddenly, unrest spread through the army of The Reach as the trebuchets fired more and more often.
Some of The Reach's troops had already crossed the river, raised their banners, and charged toward the Lannister army.
"What is going on? I gave no order. How dare they?" Mace shouted furiously.
"It's Lord Mathis and the Florent men," Randyll said after looking at the banners. "They heard the cannon fire and attacked first."
"But I gave no order!" Mace shouted. Garlan tugged at the corner of his cloak.
"Forget it. The advantage in numbers is ours."
"Charge with me! We'll crush the Lannisters first. Garlan, go support King Gendry," Mace said, a note of frustration in his voice.
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