On The Roseroad not far from Oldtown, banners stood like a forest, and warriors' armor flashed beneath the light.
Three Dragons circled and danced in the sky, casting dark, heavy shadows across the ground.
Balerion was now the fiercest and largest of them, while the other two Dragons were also bigger than warhorses.
This stretch of The Roseroad lay between Honeyholt and Highland City, with the Honeywine River running beside it.
The Honeywine rose south of Brightwater Keep. One branch flowed south through Honeyholt toward Oldtown, while another branch from Highland City joined it from the east, before the river finally emptied into Whispering Sound south of Oldtown.
The lands around the Honeywine could be counted among the most fertile regions of The Reach, flat and rich, with access to the sea.
Strictly speaking, however, there was no natural stronghold to defend.
Whether by cavalry or by ship, any force camped here could reach Oldtown quickly.
"The Battle of the Honeywine River was fought here once," the soldiers of House Bisbury murmured among themselves.
"Back then, our lord, Lord Tarly, and Lord Costayne cut off House Hightower's retreat. In front of them, Lord Rowan of Goldengrove and the bastard of Bitterbridge blocked the Honeywine. They were caught from both sides, and the Hightower was about to collapse."
"We were supposed to win that battle," a House Tarly soldier cut in, "but then the Dragon appeared, and the Blue Queen's flames changed everything."
"Now our king's three Dragons may not be much smaller than the Blue Queen. This battle can still be fought."
Gendry ordered the soldiers to make camp where they stood. The Astapor Unsullied raised tents that sprang up like mushrooms.
The reports from Oldtown grew worse and worse.
The most important question was whether the beacon banner of Oldtown's Hightower was still flying.
Gendry and Daenerys had brought three Dragons and an army of elites.
The Gold Cloaks had come with veteran soldiers from the Stormlands, the Crownlands, the Vale, parts of the Riverlands, and The Reach to aid Oldtown.
All the gathered longships were placed along the riverbank, ready to turn into the Honeywine at any moment.
Inside the King's golden great tent, decorated with the giant elk antlers gifted by House Bolton, a black glass candle brought by Marwyn burned on the campaign table at the center. Every eye was drawn to it.
Beside the candle stood several Ministry of Magic advisers: Marwyn, the red priestess, the red priests, and Qyburn.
The light of the black candle was unsettling, almost painful to look at. Its flame was strange in color, white as new snow, yellow as molten gold, and red as blazing fire.
The glass candle stood three feet tall, thin as a sword, its spiral edges sharp as blades and glinting faintly with cold light.
"Oldtown cannot be saved," Marwyn said. "The Storm is raging, and Kraken are abroad."
Gendry, Daenerys, Fletcher Dick, "Bronze" Yohn Royce, Lord Randyll Tarly, Ser Garlan Tyrell, Lord Jason Melisent, Lord Jack Crabb, Grey Worm, and the others all saw it.
Ser Barristan Selmy stood in the tent with several brothers of the Kingsguard, arranged in two rows: Balon, Robar, Guyard, Roland, and Daenerys's two female guards.
Within the vision was a sky heavy with black clouds. Oldtown's houses and towers were being destroyed, and the Kraken's enormous black tentacles swept through the city. Nothing could stand where they passed, as if seaweed and kelp were being shaken loose across the streets.
High above, black shadows flashed past, and green Sphinxes spat flame.
Melisandre, the red priestess, saw all manner of changing images in the golden, snow-white, and red flames, and she murmured softly:
"The towers by the sea break apart beneath the black tide rising from the abyss. Shadows gather into skulls, skulls become mist, and two bodies joined by desire roll and claw at one another. Beyond the curtain of flame, a great winged shadow flies across the blue sky."
Moqorro then said, "Most striking of all is a tall, twisted figure with one black eye and ten long arms, racing across a sea of blood."
Gendry listened to the mages' analysis. Perhaps they had all seen prophecies, but each had focused on something different.
Gendry rubbed the blue Just Maid at his waist. Though the Citadel and Oldtown had played all their hidden cards, they were no match for Crow's Eye.
"Hightower has Dragons too? And the Citadel has Sphinxes?" Daenerys said in surprise.
"Your Grace, Oldtown's Dragons have form but no true body. They are not real Dragons, but Dragon spirits within stone. The Sphinxes are the same," Marwyn said respectfully.
"A stone Dragon is still a Dragon," Lord Jason said with a frown. "It can fly and breathe fire."
The fear and evil Crow's Eye brought far surpassed Balon. King Balon, after all, had still been a man, while Crow's Eye possessed a touch of supernatural magic.
"My lord, there is no need for excessive worry," Marwyn said. "The stone Dragon was likely pieced together by House Hightower from Dragon bones, a corpse, black stone, runes, and gems. A dead thing cannot compare with a living one. Your Grace's true Dragons will surely defeat the false Dragon."
The red priestess looked at Gendry and Daenerys. "The Storm Dragon King, the Lord of Dragons, the slayer of lies."
"The most terrifying thing is the Kraken, the Kraken upon the sea of blood," Qyburn said. "Besides the Dragon, there is also the Kraken. As for the man and woman joined by desire that Lady Melisandre mentioned, could they be Crow's Eye and some noblewoman?"
Everyone's thoughts turned to House Hightower. In Oldtown, and even across The Reach, House Hightower had always been regarded as ancient, proud, and noble.
"The danger of this war has exceeded our expectations," said the bald, gaunt Lord Randyll. "The enemy has Kraken, and may also gain control of the stone Dragon and the Sphinxes."
"But we cannot retreat, Lord Randyll," Ser Garlan said. "If Oldtown falls, the gold of the Hightower will be plundered by the Ironborn, and they will become even more reckless. Crow's Eye and his lackeys are in Oldtown right now."
"Your Grace, my lords. We have come to save Oldtown, but what if Lord Hightower simply surrenders?" Lord Valen Beesbury of Honeyholt said. "With the Storm like this, perhaps Lord Leyton really will surrender."
"It was impossible before, but now it is not out of the question, my lord. The Ironborn are terrifying," Lord Tommen Costayne said fearfully.
His Three Towers had already been trampled into ruin by the Ironborn. He had even fled with his troops to Highgarden rather than Oldtown.
Gendry watched these lords of Oldtown with interest. Each of them had thoughts of his own. The lords had sent some soldiers, but few had truly wagered everything.
That was only natural. If Leyton himself would not come down from his tower, why would these lords fight with all their lives?
"The Lord of the Hightower would bend the knee to the Ironborn?" Yohn asked with a frown.
House Hightower was no ordinary noble house. As one of the oldest and proudest houses in Westeros, their Bloodline could be traced all the way back to the First Men. They stood among the greatest of the great houses.
In the Dawn Age, the Hightowers had once ruled as kings, holding Oldtown and the surrounding lands. When the Andals invaded, they aided them from the side rather than resisting. Later, they submitted to the Kings of the Reach, giving up their crown in exchange for retaining their ancient privileges.
Though the masters of the Hightower were powerful and immensely wealthy, they had always favored trade over war, and rarely took part in Westeros's civil wars.
"War is war, my lord. Even during The Dance of the Dragons, Oldtown never suffered a disaster like this," Randyll said.
As a soldier, Randyll had to consider the worst possibility.
"How does Your Grace think we should advance?" Randyll asked. He admired Gendry's foresight.
If the whole army had marched straight into Oldtown together, they would all be feeding the Kraken now.
"Speed is precious in war, but the risk is great. If we defeat the Kraken and the Iron Fleet head-on, we can reap the Ironborn clean. But if we fail, The Reach and Westeros will fall into ruin," Ser Barristan said.
"The black tide must end eventually. If Crow's Eye burns the Starry Sept, plunders Oldtown's gold, and takes the Citadel's books, he will become even harder to stop." Gendry stood, his mind made up.
After the blood sacrifice and the destruction of the Starry Sept, Crow's Eye's power would surely swell. The battlefield now was like a clash between two mighty beasts. The Stag and the Kraken both wanted to sink their teeth into the other's throat.
"But those Kraken..."
"Aside from the Dragons, I have already made preparations."
"Your Grace, Ser Baelor has arrived," the camp steward said.
"Let Ser Baelor in."
"Your Grace. My lords." Ser Baelor Hightower entered the tent looking utterly lost. He had not even had time to change. He wore gray steel ringmail, and a fine silk robe hung wet and limp over his shoulders.
Baelor was soaked through by the rain, without a trace of noble bearing left.
Garlan looked at his uncle. It was the first time he had ever seen him in such a sorry state.
If not for the ring on Baelor's finger, shaped like the Hightower's beacon, it would have been hard to connect this bedraggled middle-aged man with the handsome, dashing "Brightsmile" Baelor.
"How is Oldtown?" Ser Garlan asked anxiously.
"The evil Storm God and the Drowned God seem to have descended upon Oldtown. There are gales and thunderstorms everywhere. Oldtown has fallen. The tide crossed the walls and swept the sentries away. The city is full of Kraken and seawater."
"Everything Ser Baelor says is true, Your Grace," Leo Tyrell said urgently from behind Baelor, terrified and unable to rest for even a moment. "The waves came straight over the high walls. There are many-tentacled Kraken in the sea."
Leo's father was the commander of the Oldtown garrison. It seemed his chances were grim as well.
"And Ser Garth?"
"Ser Garth is still trying to hold things together at the city hall, but I fear he may also..."
"As far as I know, the Hightower can withstand any wave."
"Your Grace, if Oldtown falls, the tower cannot survive alone. The Kraken are too terrifying," Baelor said. "I can only beg for Your Grace's aid."
"You had thirty or forty thousand soldiers. How many did you bring out?"
"Only several thousand," Baelor said in pain. He had come down from the Hightower and ridden straight upstream. He had not even returned to city hall, but had left Oldtown in haste under the protection of the Hightower's elite guard.
"Forty thousand. A full thirty or forty thousand." Lord Yohn Royce almost could not breathe. Even if Crow's Eye was terrifying, this battle had collapsed far too carelessly.
Such a rich force of soldiers, and in one sudden attack, some had died while the rest scattered.
"Your father, Lord Leyton?" Ser Barristan looked at Baelor and asked.
A flicker of unease crossed Baelor's face. "My father, Lord Leyton, and my sister Malora are still atop the Hightower."
"What?" Randyll drew in a deep breath. If Leyton and the madwoman were both trapped in the Hightower, perhaps the Hightower would be the first great house to join Crow's Eye.
"Can you guarantee your father's loyalty?" Gendry looked at Baelor. Mercy had no place in command, and there were limits to what strength could bear.
"I..." Baelor's mouth twitched slightly. Then he took a breath and raised his ring. "I stole this from the Hightower. I believe I can represent House Hightower."
By explaining it that way, Baelor made it clear that even he could not guarantee what the Old Man of Oldtown and the madwoman would do.
"Your Grace, given the movements of Ser Baelor's father and sister, I suggest we place him under guard," Randyll said bluntly. At a life-or-death moment like this, noble dignity no longer mattered.
Garlan opened his mouth, then chose to close it again.
Lord Leyton had made too many baffling moves. His habit of sitting on both sides of the fence was bound to anger the true king. First he had stayed out of the War of the Five Kings, and now he was hedging his bets again.
"I understand." Gendry looked at Baelor with his blue eyes. "Ser Baelor, order your soldiers at once to obey Ser Garlan Tyrell's command."
"I understand, Your Grace. Baelor Hightower is a loyal servant of the Iron Throne." Baelor forced down the pain in his heart. Oldtown had suffered the worst damage in this war, and survival was the only thing he could still hope for.
Because of Lord Leyton's great gamble, Baelor had now become a man caught between two sides, and Hightower's reputation had been damaged.
...
Oldtown had turned black, all its beauty and splendor ruined.
The only places still more or less intact were the Hightower and the Citadel.
The Hightower stood tallest, while the Citadel lay upstream.
"The Kraken have broken in." The Kraken raged in a wild dance, and the city walls had collapsed in many places.
Oldtown's city hall, the Starry Sept, the mansions of the rich, and the streets themselves had all been wrecked beyond recognition.
One barracks by the city hall had been smashed apart by the seawater, while the Sellsword camps had scattered like startled birds and beasts. Countless men had thrown away their armor and weapons.
"Stop! Stop right there!" Gray Iron Garth stood at the gate of the barracks with the water up to his waist, roaring at the Sellswords with their brightly colored hair.
"Fuck you, Hightower. I'm not getting myself killed for your stinking coins." The Sellswords did not even look back. Some swam, some searched for boats, and others looked for high ground.
"You have the nerve to lecture us? Your father Leyton has already surrendered. And where is Baelor?"
"Forget it. Let them go." Garth sighed and stopped his men from attacking.
Gray Iron turned and looked. The green flames had gone out. At some point, the golden Kraken banner had been raised atop the Hightower.
Gray Iron Garth silently picked up the sword by his feet. He did not head toward the Hightower. Instead, he climbed onto a small boat guarded by Hightower men and rushed toward the place where the Ironborn were pouring in.
"If I was born a knight, then I will die like one."
Garth charged toward the Ironborn ships like an arrow flying against the current.
But his small boat was suddenly tossed into the air by a wave, and then a tentacle struck Gray Iron in midair with crushing force.
The Sellswords had only wanted to find a clean patch of safety, somewhere to avoid the seawater and the Kraken.
But no one could escape this disaster. The Kraken's tentacles whipped through the waterways in every direction. Wails, trampling, rushing water, and curses blended into a mournful song, and Oldtown became a city of death.
Crow's Eye's Silence stood proudly at the head of the tide. When the heavy rain and floodwaters receded, Oldtown was still a flooded wasteland, much of it soaked through by the sea.
Animal carcasses, human corpses, broken walls, and ruined houses lay scattered in the seawater.
The Kraken seemed to have sunk back beneath the sea, awaiting another summons.
Ironborn longships crisscrossed the city, cheering the victory Crow's Eye had brought them.
Along the winding waterways, Ironborn ships appeared everywhere in Oldtown, scattered through the city like black specks.
"Euron!"
"Euron!"
Many longships floated over Oldtown. Their captains cheered Crow's Eye's name while looking toward the Hightower.
"The Hightower has surrendered. Next comes the Stag's head!" Crow's Eye shouted.
With Oldtown's walls collapsed in many places, the city lay almost undefended.
The Ironborn sailed unchecked through every part of Oldtown, plundering valuables from the dead, ransacking luxurious mansions, and burning the wealthy men's Septs of the Seven.
The Hightower was such a noble place, yet today it had lowered its green flame and begun flying the golden Kraken banner.
Ships flying white flags sailed out from Battle Island, declaring Hightower's sincerity, while the stone Dragon returned once more to the top of Oldtown's tower.
"A crude imitation, but still a Dragon." Crow's Eye saw through the stone Dragon's nature. The source of the Dragon's flame was inside its mouth.
This stone Dragon relied on runes and fire oil. A stupid Dragon, nothing more.
Even so, House Hightower was still rather impressive.
"Go take the Citadel. The Sphinx's power is nearly exhausted as well," Crow's Eye ordered Rodrik the Reader. "You have plenty of knowledge. Do not lose a single book."
...
"Dragon! A Dragon is coming!" The Ironborn closest to the Citadel looked up at the sky. A winged shadow suddenly appeared, followed by a swirling blast of black-red flame that roasted the Ironborn like pigs.
Then came the sound of trebuchets, and huge stones flew through the sky.
"A Dragon! A Dragon is coming!" The Ironborn blew their longhorns.
The sound of horns echoed through all of Oldtown.
"The young are still too young." Crow's Eye looked into the distance, feeling very pleased with himself.
***
...
If you'd like to support my work and unlock advanced chapters, you can follow me on p-@-treon.
[email protected]/PinkSnake (50 Chapters Ahead).
You can also follow as a free member to read a few advanced chapters.
***