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Cobbler's Square in King's Landing was a fairly busy market. In addition to the large and small shops lining the streets, there were also many peddlers scattered across the center of the square, selling their goods beneath leather awnings.
The main trade there revolved around leather goods. Because of that, merchandise brought down from the North by caravans traveling the kingsroad inevitably passed through the square for distribution.
Cobbler's Square had four entrances.
To the northwest was the entrance to the stepped alley near the Gate of the Gods.
To the northeast was the crushed-stone street leading toward the Old Gate and Rhaenys's Hill.
To the southwest was the intersection that led to the Street of Steel and the Lion Gate.
And to the southeast was the paved street of stone slabs that led to the Great Sept of Baelor.
At that moment, Edd and the Winterfell riders were fighting fiercely against the Gold Cloaks packing the stepped alley. At the same time, three mixed groups of around forty men each were advancing from the other three entrances, dispersing the crowd and closing in on that side.
Robb's eyes swept over Cobbler's Square without pause, searching for any point through which they might still break out.
Do I really have to use my final card?
After scanning the surroundings and finding no clear way out, Robb hesitated.
It was only their second day in King's Landing, and this sudden encirclement had already thrown every one of his plans into chaos.
If he used his greatest trump card now, then his plan to rescue his father would most likely become impossible to carry out.
The secret passage!
Suddenly, Robb remembered the passage through which Varys had disappeared. He turned at once, ran into the kitchen of the shop, shoved aside the cabinet, and opened the hidden door.
A few minutes later, he returned with a grim expression.
That secret passage led only to an abandoned house behind the shop.
For the Gold Cloaks and Lannister soldiers, who would certainly search the whole area down to the last corner, hiding there would do nothing but delay the moment they were found.
There was only one option left: force a way out!
With no other choice, Robb bit his lip and made his decision.
But charging out blindly would be suicide as well.
Whoever was commanding this ambush had already guessed that they would try to escape northwest toward the Gate of the Gods. That was why that side had been packed with Gold Cloaks.
To the southeast lay the broad stone-paved road leading to the Great Sept. It was wide, easy to move through, and offered excellent visibility.
But precisely because of that, it would take only a hidden group of archers waiting in place for Robb and his men to run straight into a trap.
That left only two directions: southwest and northeast.
After thinking for a brief moment, Robb was just about to turn and run toward the stepped alley when, with one leg already raised, he froze halfway through the motion.
How did they know we were here?
Until that moment, because of the urgency of the fighting, he had not had time to think about it.
This hideout was known only to Ramsay, Sam, Varys, and the people who had come with him to King's Landing.
If any of the first three had leaked the information, then he would have been arrested right at the city gate.
Then... Varys's warning had been true.
There was an informant among them.
But if the informant truly was one of his own men, then during the attack he could simply have stabbed Robb in the back, captured him alive, and forced the others to retreat.
That would have made him the greatest contributor in the whole operation.
But he had not done that.
Which meant the informant was certain that Robb would not escape today, and that his own identity still had value. He did not want to expose himself. He wanted to go back to Winterfell and continue extracting information.
But if only he survived and returned to Winterfell, that would be far too suspicious.
If it were me, Robb thought, besides myself, who would inevitably be captured, I would let a few others escape with me.
In that case... I can use that to my advantage.
And try to save as many of the men still loyal to me as possible.
"Brothers, listen to me. We're surrounded by Gold Cloaks and Lannister soldiers.
Now I'm going to explain how we break out."
Time was short. Without overthinking it, Robb sketched a basic plan in his mind, then ran to the corner of the stepped alley and began explaining the escape route to the Winterfell riders who were not yet fighting.
In Cobbler's Square, the three encircling groups of around forty men each had already moved around the tents and stalls and were drawing dangerously close to the mouth of the alley where Robb and his men were trapped.
If they completed the circle, then Robb truly would have nowhere left to fly.
Suddenly, a thick column of smoke began to rise from the stepped alley.
The soldiers in the three encircling groups exchanged glances and immediately quickened their pace.
"Protect the lord and cut through these bastards! Move! Get out!"
The three Winterfell riders blocking the alley suddenly began attacking like madmen, trading blow for blow without the slightest concern for their own wounds as they roared with all their strength.
The Gold Cloaks at the front were clearly frightened by that desperate fury and instinctively fell back two steps to avoid the point of the charge.
The other nine riders, who had used flint to set the place ablaze, joined up with Edd, who had fallen back from the front line, and began escorting the cloaked figure in the center of their group, dressed as the caravan master, as they broke toward the street to the northeast.
At the mouth of the alley, the scene was pure chaos.
The Gold Cloaks in front were dodging the suicidal charge of the three Winterfell riders, while those behind them, unable to see clearly what was happening, continued shoving forward.
And because most of the shops in Cobbler's Square sold leather, the fire the riders had left behind spread with terrifying speed.
Burning leather gave off a vast amount of smoke, and before long the alley was smothered in dark fumes that blocked all visibility.
Edd's group, now eleven men strong, had advanced a little more than ten yards when they slammed head-on into the encircling force coming from the northeast.
In an instant, blades clashed and blood flew.
That encircling group had nearly forty men, several times the number Edd and his companions had.
But the spirit of the two sides was completely different.
The Winterfell riders had eyes burning almost red, hurling themselves forward without even thinking of defending themselves.
Even when skewered by several blades, so long as they still had a breath of life left, they clung to an enemy with all their strength so that the man behind them could kill him.
The soldiers in that encircling force held up somewhat better under the pressure. They were elite warriors of House Lannister, and though their morale wavered, they were not so easily intimidated.
But the Gold Cloaks, accustomed to bullying the populace, hunting petty thieves, and beating beggars, had never seen a fight like this before.
After several of the bravest men at the front fell with blood pouring from them, the more cowardly Gold Cloaks began hiding inside the shops on either side.
In the center of the street, only the Lannister soldiers remained to face the Winterfell riders.
The human heart was a strange thing.
At first, the encircling group and the Winterfell riders were still fighting on even terms. Though they had already brought down several men, Winterfell's side was beginning to fall as well.
But when the Gold Cloaks hid inside the shops, an unavoidable thought arose in the minds of the Lannister soldiers:
If they aren't risking their lives, why should we?
At that instant, the unit's morale collapsed.
With only seven men left, Edd's group forced its way through the encirclement, smashing through the enemy line with that same desperate ferocity.
In the narrow stepped alley, corpses, blood, and smoke blended into a suffocating hell.
The courage of the three Winterfell riders who had stayed behind was finally beginning to gutter out.
Their bodies were covered in cuts, large and small, and the soft leather they wore had already been completely soaked through with blood.
"Cough... Pia, you bastard... you still owe me two silver stags... cough... in the next life, remember to pay me back..."
One of the riders, so drenched in blood that his face could barely be recognized, coughed without stopping because of the smoke behind him. Gathering the last scraps of his strength, he cut down a Gold Cloak with his sword and rasped to the companion beside him.
Slash!
His companion could not answer.
A sword punched through his mouth and came out the back of his head.
Hearing no reply, the rider turned his head and saw a Gold Cloak pulling the blade free from his friend's skull.
A crooked smile barely appeared on his lips as he muttered hoarsely:
"Cough... you bastard... so that's it... you're going to dodge that debt to the very end..."
Rip!
A Gold Cloak who had just surged in from the rear opened his throat with one easy slash.
Hot blood burst forth in a torrent.Parte superior do formulário
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