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"Ah! I am not dead. I am not dead! Gods, what was that thing on the wall just now?
"It was huge, with sharp tusks. I struck it with my longsword before I fell, but I could not even cut through its hide. Terrifying!"
"I heard Robb Stark raised man-eating monsters. That must be one of them."
"I think the crack that suddenly appeared matters more. Magic? Sorcery?"
After Leaf and the two wood dancers acted, the Reach assault lost its rhythm.
Too many men had seen the unmatched violence of the two long-haired mammoths and the sudden narrow fissure that opened below the wall. The soldiers who had fallen from the battlements and survived by landing on the piled corpses spread the tale even faster.
Garlan's vanguard broke into fearful discussion. No one wanted to climb again.
Low horns sounded from the rear.
The Reach soldiers, already stripped of courage, retreated like men granted a reprieve.
They left behind a field of bodies in bright armor now fouled with blood and filth. The first battle for Cornfield ended there.
After the day's fighting, the defenders on Cornfield's wall began clearing the dead. Their own fallen were gathered for burial. Enemy corpses were thrown over the wall.
There were already many bodies under Cornfield's battlements. Since the Reach had not sent men to collect them after the fighting, Crey had no intention of doing the work for them.
If corpses lay unburied or unburned for too long, disease could follow. But such matters were usually left to the victor after the war ended.
"Lord Crey, we killed nearly three thousand enemies today. But we lost more than five hundred brothers, and more than two hundred badly wounded men can no longer fight. Nearly eight hundred in all."
Patrick was older than Crey, but Crey had been appointed by Robb himself. After the fighting at Brandonsport and the Crag, Patrick had no doubt about Crey's ability. As soon as the battle ended, he took the initiative to count the rough losses and report them respectfully.
"Mm. You have worked hard. Have the healers do everything they can for the wounded. Do not spare the Myrish ointment. And for the next few days, double everyone's food."
Crey looked toward Leaf and the two wood dancers, who were speaking in the True Tongue in the distance, and answered without turning.
"Lord Crey, today was only the first day. If we do not control our stores, and they choose to surround us instead of attacking, the days after this..."
Patrick knew the men who had fought bravely deserved such treatment, but he still advised caution.
"They will either fight or retreat. They will not sit here and starve us. If we lose, these stores will feed the enemy. If we win, supplies will no longer be a problem."
"Yes."
Understanding Crey's meaning, Patrick went at once to make arrangements.
Ramsay, who had finally recovered from the shock of seeing Leaf and the others act, asked, "Lord Crey, what exactly are those three... people?
"And you have not given me any task during this time. What can I do for you?"
"Lord Ramsay, those three are gifted people His Grace recruited. I do not know the details. As for why I have not given you a task, His Grace specifically instructed me.
"Your task is to remain in Cornfield with your ironborn and watch this battle closely."
Crey smiled at Ramsay, then immediately walked toward Leaf as she approached.
"Lady Leaf, is your body all right?"
He had seen Leaf use miraculous magic at the Golden Tooth to collapse part of the wall, but her body had suffered severe backlash afterward. Crey cared about her condition because Cornfield's survival depended on it.
"I am fine, but I cannot use magic over such a large area again until the day after tomorrow at least. Do not worry. With Thorn and Vine here, the humans below the wall will not take it."
Leaf had lived for hundreds of years. Of course she understood what Crey wanted to know, and she answered all of it.
This use of Earth Roar was not the same as the one at the Golden Tooth. The range had been much larger, but the crack had been far shallower.
Magic in the real world was not a game. The deeper the earth was torn open, the more weight, structure, and other factors had to be overcome.
The deeper Earth Roar split the ground, the more Magic it consumed. If Leaf could casually tear open a crack thirty or fifty yards deep, even Bloodwind might be trapped and die inside it.
So although this magic had covered a broad area, the burden on Leaf was far lighter than at the Golden Tooth.
"Good. The enemy will not attack again today. Please go rest."
"Very well."
Leaf drew her hood up and left the wall with Thorn and Vine. Crey and Ramsay watched their backs, each thinking his own thoughts.
Outside Cornfield, in the Reach camp, a huge command tent of splendid gold cloth stood at the center of the army.
Inside, all the Reach lords sat in silence around the council table. No one knew what to say.
Lord Mace still looked stiff with shock after witnessing the supernatural power Leaf and the wood dancers had displayed. He had thought the siege would bring easy glory. Reality had slapped him hard.
Sensing the heavy air in the tent, he coughed, forced a smile onto his face, and said, "You all saw what happened. Speak your minds."
"Father, that was magic," Loras said at once, standing in agitation. "At Bitterbridge, people said Renly the First was killed by Stannis with magic. Now it seems that was the truth!"
Loras commanded the Reach cavalry and had not taken part in the assault, but the mention of magic immediately drew him back to the past.
"Loras," Mace snapped, "we are discussing the siege of Cornfield, not old matters that do not matter now."
"Do not matter? I think they matter greatly..."
"Loras!" Garlan cut in before father and son could quarrel. "Father, forgive my brother's temper. He was once sworn to Renly the First as one of the Rainbow Guard. Such loyalty is still rare."
Garlan's words gave Mace a graceful way out.
"Yes. For the sake of Loras's loyalty, we will not pursue it. Return to Cornfield."
Garlan looked around and saw the other Reach nobles lowering their heads, unwilling to speak first.
"Father, my vanguard has already lost nearly thirty percent today. With what happened at the end, the soldiers' morale is very low. We should surround Cornfield for now and wait for more news from Deep Den before deciding whether to attack or withdraw."
"Garlan, that does make sense. Then perhaps..."
"No," Randyll said.
Mace had forced him to supervise the rear, and Randyll had intended to keep silent out of displeasure. But seeing father and son drift further into error, he could not remain quiet.
"If we were still at Old Oak, we could wait. But now that we have entered the war between the Westerlands and the North, we must show strength and resolve. The lion and the wolf are both fierce beasts. If they scent weakness, they may tear us apart first."
"Impossible," Mace said. "House Lannister is our ally. To show sincerity, Tywin gave us one third of the Dornish Marches. The Reach has grain enough and a hundred thousand men. Who would dare provoke us?"
Since accepting the office of Hand, Mace had seen the Reach's strength in numbers. His confidence in his own house had grown with every report.
"A hundred thousand men," Randyll said coldly. "Yet if we use half the Reach's strength and still fail to take Cornfield from a few thousand defenders, how will the other lords see us?
"Lord Hand, I can promise you this. If we fail to take Cornfield, then whether we make alliances or deal in diplomacy, we will negotiate from a position of weakness."
Mace had little military or political talent, but Olenna had raised him as a ruler. He could still tell when Randyll's words were right.
"Father," Loras said, seizing the moment, "Lord Randyll is right. House Tarly has always been a brave vanguard. Tomorrow, let Lord Randyll command the assault."
When Renly was not involved, Loras could still show good sense.
"Yes," Mace said quickly. "I meant for Lord Randyll to serve as our last reserve, but the battle now requires him at the front. It is decided."
"As you command," Randyll said, expressionless. "I will find a way to take Cornfield quickly. Lord Hand, I will need the full cooperation of the supply train tonight for certain small changes."
"Granted."
The first night of the siege passed quietly for both sides. The second assault began the next morning, the fourth day after the Reach army had arrived.
When the horns of the Reach sounded, Crey stood on Cornfield's wall and let out a soft sound of surprise.
The formation below was completely different from the previous day. It was tight, orderly, and the arrow volleys caused far fewer casualties. The attackers advanced faster as well.
"Tell the brothers to stay sharp. Today's enemy is different."
"Yes!"
The defenders had only fired two volleys before the enemy reached the foot of the wall.
Rows of ladders tipped with hooks caught firmly on the battlements. The soldiers below climbed while pulling hammers from their belts and driving iron nails from the ladder frames into the wall.
The ladders, which had first leaned against the wall, became vertical stairs fixed into stone. That made them easier to attack from above, but it prevented a sudden crack in the ground from stopping the assault as it had yesterday.
The second day's battle was no less brutal. The corpses under the wall rose higher, and many attackers simply stepped on the dead to save themselves a stretch of climbing.
As before, the main assault pressed against Cornfield's long, narrow wall. The ram at the gate had already been destroyed again by explosive fruits.
The new ram had been reinforced with thick wooden shields, and explosive fruits could not destroy it so easily from the outside.
But Patrick had learned how to use them. He ordered three throwers to scratch the fruit skins, count five breaths in silence, and throw. Then three more followed in the same order.
The first three fruits burst just as they reached the ram, shattering the reinforced wooden shields. The next three slipped inside and exploded from within, destroying it.
"It is time, Father. Time for me to go."
Behind the assault vanguard, a strong young man with hard features and a distinctly masculine bearing asked Randyll for permission.
"Mm. Dickon, when that ram advances toward the gate, follow the plan I explained last night.
"Protect yourself."
Randyll patted his second son's shoulder, concern plain on his face.
"I will. I will take Cornfield for you."
"I will watch from here."
Hearing his son's confidence, Randyll smiled and nodded. Then he turned to a servant. "Have them bring out that ram."
As Randyll expected, when the specially modified great ram was pushed forward, almost every eye on Cornfield's wall turned toward it.
Dickon led nearly a thousand Tarly household soldiers into the massive assault formation. Each carried a large waterskin of oxhide on his back.
To stop the great ram from destroying the gate, Patrick's throwers used many explosive fruits.
The ram was blasted until it looked half ruined, yet it still advanced steadily.
At the critical moment, one thrower leapt heroically from the wall onto the ram, crawled inside the structure, and detonated the explosive fruits on his body.
The danger to Cornfield's gate was removed.
But while most eyes had been drawn to the great ram, Dickon and the Tarly household troops had taken part of the wall.
Thorn and Vine had no choice but to use true skinchanging again, turning into long-haired mammoths and charging.
The Tarly men had been prepared. They threw their large oxhide skins across the wall, spilling a great deal of cooking oil over the stone.
The two mammoths lost their balance at once and crashed heavily onto the battlements.
Cornfield was finished.
Crey looked at the attackers flooding onto the wall, the mammoths struggling to rise on the slick stone, and Leaf's anxious face as she stood unable to use her magic. His heart sank.
Then a hissing sound came from behind him, inside Cornfield.
Ice crystals were forming.
A huge shape suddenly fell from above and crashed onto Cornfield's wall. At the same moment, white ice mist spread from the great body to the left and right.
In the blink of an eye, the cooking oil spilled across the battlements froze beneath a layer of ice.
The feet of the Reach soldiers crowding onto the wall were locked firmly in place.
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