Chapter 234: Failure of the Southern Campaign?
Storm's End was itself a massive tower, encircled by a curtain wall one hundred feet high and forty feet thick—doubled in thickness on the seaward side.
It was the strongest fortress in the Seven Kingdoms, and like Casterly Rock and the Eyrie, it had never been taken by frontal assault. The Golden Company had seized Storm's End through trickery and deceit during the chaotic vacuum following Renly's death, when the Stormland lords were leaderless and searching for a way out. But that was an anomaly; once the defenders were alert, there was no way to take it except by battering down the gates or storming the walls.
However, Stannis had lived there for over a decade and had even fought the world-renowned Siege of Storm's End from within its walls. He knew every stone, every blade of grass, and every tree of the castle. He was confident he could take it easily, showcasing his power and authority as the new King to overawe the Seven Kingdoms.
But when the actual assault began, Stannis discovered that things were not as easy as imagined. Legend said that spells were woven into the stones of Storm's End; unfortunately, these spells did not seem to make the walls thinner or more brittle just because the besieger had been born and raised there and was its legal owner. Stannis's own strengthening of the defenses years ago had now become the primary obstacle to his victory. This fortress, already famous throughout the continent, had been personally renovated and repaired by him during the Usurper's War, leaving it a seamless monolith without a single flaw.
More than ten years later, Stannis finally had to experience for himself the taste of gnawing on this hard bone.
A lack of flaws did not mean it was invincible. Stannis knew exactly which direction of attack would make it hardest for the defenders to pour down defensive fire, which section of the wall was lowest and easiest to scale, and which gate was most susceptible to a ram. Although Storm's End was difficult to take, as long as he was given time to prepare leisurely—until a series of specialized siege engines were built and assembled—reclaiming his ancestral seat would only be a matter of time.
But numerous complications caused his calculations to fall through.
First was the Dornish army. Led by the Red Viper, Oberyn Martell, they openly ignored orders and marched north, stopping to camp only a dozen miles from Storm's End, refusing to come before the King to explain their movements. Though they had not launched an active provocation or attack, this blatant hostility forced Stannis to divert a large number of men for sentry duty and defense, significantly slowing the progress of the siege.
Second was the Northern army. They had encountered the Reach forces for the third time west of Bronzegate. This time, Randyll Tarly led the elite of the Reach up the Roseroad at a steady, unhurried pace. Robb Stark was unable to repel the enemy in a single stroke as he had in the Westerlands and King's Landing. The two sides drew up their ranks and clashed head-on, fighting a bloody battle for two days. The Northern army fought its first grueling battle since the war began; outnumbered, they suffered minor losses and were forced to retreat to Bronzegate, using the castle as a base to continue blocking the Reach army from reaching Storm's End.
Worse still, news of the Ironborn invasion and raiding of the North arrived at exactly this moment. The Northern troops grew restless, everyone yearning to return home, and their morale plummeted.
The empty treasury made matters even worse—for every day of this war, he had to pay his soldiers. After imposing severe penalties on the turncoat lords of the Crownlands and Stormlands, and receiving a massive ransom from Tywin Lannister the previous month, the financial pressure had eased. But a month had passed, and the money was nearly gone again.
Stannis sat in his tent, looking at a table full of bad news, feeling suffocated by the heavy weight of reality. He began to regret driving Melisandre away. That cursed woman, constantly claiming he was the Chosen One, the Prince That Was Promised, the True Lord of the Seven Kingdoms... yet after bewitching him into believing it—even driving him to commit the great evil of kinslaying—she did not help him stabilize the realm he had won. Instead, she had forced him north to deal with Wildlings.
What was more, in his moment of greatest need for supernatural aid, she had simply left, heading for the Wall. It was true he had told her to leave in a fit of rage, but he hadn't told her to run that far away!
Should he summon her back? If he did, where would a man's pride and a King's dignity be?
As he pondered, more trouble found its way to his door.
"Your Grace, an envoy from the Iron Bank requests an audience."
Stannis's face turned ashen. "Another debt collector, no doubt... I will not see him!"
Barristan Selmy, standing nearby, could not remain silent. "Your Grace, you may refuse to see anyone, but you cannot refuse the Iron Bank. If they interpret this slight as an intention to repudiate your debts, they will turn to others who are willing to acknowledge them. The Seven Kingdoms will never know peace!"
"Am I to fear the threats of a bunch of bankers from across the Narrow Sea?"
"Your Grace, we all know your courage is unsurpassed in the realm." Davos Seaworth, the Onion Knight, knew Stannis's temperament and quickly spoke to smooth things over. "But you need not take meaningless risks to prove it. The best course is to grant the envoy an audience, declare that you acknowledge the debt, and explain that you are currently facing temporary liquidity issues. You only need to state your position; you don't actually have to pay a single Golden Dragon... that should be enough to stall through this crisis."
Stannis knew his two chief ministers were offering loyal and upright counsel, but he simply could not stomach the insult. Robert had won unprecedented personal prestige by borrowing money and throwing it away, but he had left the Seven Kingdoms a shambles. Now that Stannis had taken over, there wasn't a single gold coin in the treasury, yet he was expected to pay back the appalling, gargantuan debts of his spendthrift brother. It was fundamentally unfair!
There is no such thing as fairness in this world. Was the throne that rightfully belonged to me not won back through war and dark means? Stannis quickly organized his thoughts, straightened his attire, and said with a stiff face, "Bring the fellow in."
...
A newly appointed Kingsguard turned and left the tent, soon returning with a stranger.
"Your Grace, I am Curtis Lane, a functionary of the Iron Bank," the Braavosi said as he entered. "I have come to discuss the matter of the debt between yourself and the Iron Bank."
"Ha—the debt. Yes, I have never received a single copper from the Iron Bank, yet the moment we meet, I owe you millions of gold dragons. You call that a 'debt matter'!"
"To be precise, it is two million, one hundred and fifty-four thousand, six hundred and twenty-one gold dragons. This is the amount following the default by the Iron Throne during the last payment cycle," Curtis added. "The debt belongs to the Iron Throne. Whoever sits upon the seat must repay it. We believe King Stannis is a reasonable man and can understand this. Now, we hope you can provide an explanation for the default of the previous cycle."
"Fine, the explanation is this—I am currently burning money to fight a war, and I cannot pay back a single copper." Stannis had no interest in specific numbers; what was the difference between two million and two million-something right now? "The debt belongs to the Iron Throne? Very well. Barristan, take this noble envoy back to King's Landing, haul the Iron Throne out of the Great Hall, and put it on a ship to Braavos."
...
What is this? Intelligence had indicated that Stannis Baratheon was a man so serious he was almost boring; it hadn't mentioned he would play the rogue. Curtis wrung his fingers, realizing he had arrived at an inopportune time and had caught the King in a foul mood. His eloquence failed him in the face of this unexpected response. After several seconds, he spoke again: "Your Grace, when we say 'the debt belongs to the Iron Throne,' we mean it belongs to the legitimate ruler of Westeros. Are your words just now a refusal to acknowledge yourself as King Robert's legitimate heir?"
"It was merely a joke, Mr. Curtis. Surely you understand the concept of humor," Davos interjected quickly. "King Stannis is King Robert's legitimate heir and he acknowledges his brother's debts. However, until we eliminate the pretender occupying Storm's End, we truly lack the capacity to make payments."
...
(Who are you bunch of moneylenders to decide whether or not I am the legitimate ruler of the Seven Kingdoms?) Fire rose in Stannis's heart, but fortunately, Davos's interruption allowed him to cool down slightly. Trading barbs was not the work of a King. He took a deep breath and forced himself to swallow the words on the tip of his tongue. "Enough chatter. I acknowledge the debt, but I demand a deferment. Furthermore, I wish to apply for a new loan to resolve the current shortage of military pay."
"The service fees for a deferment are not low. If Your Grace is certain you wish to apply, I shall consult with your Master of Coin afterward," Curtis said, lowering his head. "As for a new loan, please forgive me—according to the Iron Bank's latest risk assessment of Westeros, the lending risk has severely exceeded the limit. Until this winter ends, I no longer have the authority to issue loans in any form to any faction in Westeros."
"Risk assessment, exceeded." Was it because of the Wildlings, or that cursed wight? These new terms made Stannis increasingly displeased. "In short, you are forcing me to pay back the old money first, yet refusing to provide any aid? Then what benefit do I gain from acknowledging this debt?"
"The benefit is that the Iron Bank will provide protection and intelligence services beyond mere coin," Curtis replied. "As for a new loan, it is not absolutely impossible. If you insist, you may fulfill your repayment obligations in the next cycle and attempt to apply through a higher-ranking official."
"Provide protection and intelligence services? What does that mean? If I don't pay, my safety won't be guaranteed? Without your intelligence, I can't win the war?" Stannis felt threatened and finally grew furious. "I have my Kingsguard and my Master of Laws; I have no need for the Iron Bank's 'protection' or 'intelligence services'! You have your answer now. I acknowledge the debt, but as for repayment—wait until I have the coin!"
"I meant no threat, Your Grace. Please forgive me if I offended," Curtis bowed respectfully. "I understand your position. I shall return to King's Landing to process the application and paperwork for the deferment with your Master of Coin. But out of courtesy and your right to know, I must inform Your Grace that a deferment will cause significant compound interest. In the long run, it is more harmful than beneficial..."
Stannis gripped the cup on the table, barely resisting the urge to emulate his brother and hurl it at the man. "Compound interest? Be gone! Let it compound however it likes! Now—get out of my sight. I have other matters to discuss with my ministers!"
After the banker left, Davos sighed and continued his report. "Your Grace, the ransom paid by Lord Tywin is nearly exhausted. Robb Stark has written for the third time, requesting to lead his troops back to the North to quell the Ironborn rebellion... Eddard Stark died for insisting on your status as the legitimate King. Currently, half the North is occupied by Ironborn, and we are about to run out of pay for the soldiers. My advice is that it would be better to retreat to King's Landing to regroup, take a breath, and then find a way to suppress the rebellion."
"Retreat? And allow that boy calling himself Aegon VI to establish a foothold in Storm's End, the place of my birth, posing an even greater threat to my rule?"
"Your Grace, besides the requests sent by raven... Robb Stark sent another secret letter by hand, marked for your eyes only. The letter is here; please read it."
Sending a letter by hand rather than raven meant the risk of a leak was reduced. And at this juncture, it was clearly not good news. Stannis took the wax-sealed letter with a grim face, opened it, and began to read.
Half a minute later, he crumpled the letter into a ball and threw it into the hearth.
Under the gaze of Barristan and Davos, Stannis spoke: "The gist of it is that regardless of whether I agree or not, the Northern army will withdraw from the battlefield in five days to return north and deal with the Ironborn."
Silence fell over the tent.
The Northern army had mustered twice within a year to answer the Iron Throne's call, more than fulfilling their obligation to protect the King. Their withdrawal after giving due notice did not violate any law of the Seven Kingdoms; even a King could not forcibly command them to stay and continue fighting.
The situation was beyond saving. By sending this secret letter to prevent a leak that could cause the royal army's rout, Robb Stark had done all that honor required.
The veins on Stannis's forehead bulged. He understood: he had no choice. Without those nearly twenty thousand Northern troops, he could not stop the Reach army, whether they chose to march east to break the siege of Storm's End or north to threaten King's Landing. He could not achieve absolute dominance in a confrontation with the Reach, Dorne, and the Golden Company using only the armies of the Crownlands, Riverlands, and the Vale. At that point, let alone attacking Storm's End, even a smooth withdrawal from the Stormlands back to King's Landing would be a problem.
"Your Grace." Barristan looked at the silent King, knowing he had to say something to prevent Stannis from falling into dark thoughts. "The inability to protect the lands of one's vassals is a liege's greatest shame. As the new Warden of the North, Robb's move is entirely understandable; it is not a calculated betrayal. The departure of the Northern army will inevitably affect the morale of the Riverlands and Vale troops... Rather than a public breakup five days from now followed by a panicked flight under pincer attacks, it would be better to withdraw from the battlefield gracefully while the Northern army is still here and the various regional forces are still united under your command, and then plan for the future."
"No matter how gracefully or calmly we withdraw, failure remains an undeniable fact."
Stannis was not the type of person who could not accept facts. Davos shrugged. "Your Grace, this is merely a setback in an offensive strike. The three regions of the North and the Crownlands are still under your rule. Half the Stormlands and most of the Stormland nobility remain loyal to you. You are the recognized King of the Seven Kingdoms; you have the capital to afford a setback. Why obsess over such words?"
"Wait, who says withdrawing from the battlefield must be a failure?" Barristan had a different opinion. "Why don't we simply go with the flow? We go first to help House Stark stabilize the North, then claim our withdrawal from this front was to shift targets—to first crush the rebellion of House Greyjoy in the Iron Islands. Once the krakens are dealt with, House Stark will be moved by Your Grace's priority and support, and will surely continue to support you against the Reach and the 'False Dragon' pushed by the Golden Company!"
"But we can't actually go and suppress the Greyjoys," Davos pointed out. "The moment we send our army to the west coast, the Reach and Dorne will surely escort that 'Aegon VI' to King's Landing. I need not say which is more important—the capital of the Seven Kingdoms or a few wretched, broken islands in the Sunset Sea."
...
"Wait... you two, be quiet." Listening to the dialogue between the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard and the King's Hand, Stannis suddenly had an idea, his expression shifting from dark to resolute. "Barristan has reminded me—who says failing to reclaim Storm's End is a failure? Since the Northern army is returning home in five days... why can't I use these last five days to make one final, grand move?"
"What does Your Grace mean?"
"I have just been reflecting carefully. For a long time now, we have fallen into a trap—the Targaryens were the former royal house, so when someone creates trouble under their banner, they must be eliminated first," Stannis said slowly. "But thinking about it calmly, who made that rule? Why am I in such a hurry? The Targaryens' former allies were the Reach and Dorne... Currently, the two houses he can win over are already my enemies. Among the remaining five regions, four were part of the alliance that overthrew the dragon dynasty and will not turn to him. The remaining one, House Lannister, has a blood feud with the Targaryens... Even if I allow this so-called Aegon to stay in Westeros, he cannot gain more allies to grow stronger!"
Davos seemed to understand Stannis's point. "So..."
"I have no need to bash my head against Storm's End. I should deal with the False Dragon's allies first!" Stannis felt some chagrin that he hadn't realized this until Robb Stark decided to return north. "I only need to strike the Reach and Dorne until they can no longer field an army. Then I can turn back and deal with this Aegon VI..."
"It makes sense, Your Grace! Use these last five days to make a move..." Barristan also grasped the King's intent and grew energized. "We can leave a feint force to continue the siege of Storm's End while the main force withdraws quietly. We can see if we can launch a surprise attack on Randyll Tarly or Oberyn Martell. Whether we deal a heavy blow to either house, the initiative will be entirely in our hands—whether we withdraw afterward or turn to deal with the other!"
"Exactly. It's a pity I realized this so late," Stannis said, gritting his teeth. "Dorne has been facing our army all this time; a surprise attack would likely be difficult. That leaves only the Reach army. We move immediately. If we march at speed, we can circle west of Bronzegate in two days and launch a pincer attack with the Northern army. We will surely crush them!"
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