-Chapter 84-
-POV Garlan Tyrell-
Upon reaching the battlements, I immediately noticed the wide-eyed expression of my father-in-law as he observed Ronnet Connington's army beneath our walls.
It took me only a moment to voice what everyone must have been thinking but dared not say aloud: "We must flee."
"I'd rather die than let those arrogant Stormlanders sack my lands without reacting," said Léonette's father, letting his pride speak for him.
"Then you're on the right path," I murmured, disapproving of his words, as we did not have the men to hold this castle, and Léonette was here with my unborn child.
'I will never let them come to harm. I'd rather die,' I thought to myself.
My father-in-law's face turned crimson, and he addressed me in a tone he had never used with me before:
"Don't forget who you're speaking to, boy. Must I remind you that I am…"
I cut him off, furious that he would let his pride dictate his thoughts to the point of believing we had a chance against them:
"…You're nothing more than one of my father's bannermen. I won't let your pride, much less your vanity, cost the lives of my wife and my future child."
We stared at each other for a long moment before Martyn spoke up and said:
"This isn't the time for us to argue. Dissension only benefits the enemy."
"They've already won," I said, recognizing the banner of House Grandison right behind that of House Connington.
'That means Arion Grandison is leading this army, one of Ronnet's best and most loyal lieutenants,' I thought.
'He has probably sent his other trusted lieutenants, leading the houses Buckler, Morrigen, and Fell, in different directions with other targets,' I quickly deduced, as Ronnet was an excellent strategist.
'Just look at how he manipulated Renly and Stannis into destroying each other while he reaped the rewards,' I thought, convinced that he had never liked nor wanted to serve Renly, given their history.
He had merely relied on Renly's naivety and arrogance to lead him to his ruin.
Martyn, stunned by my pessimism and the ease with which I considered fleeing, then said:
"What are you talking about? We can hold out until reinforcements…"
"We could have held out if it were a peasant army attacking us, but that's clearly not the case. They managed to reach this place as quickly as the messenger, who had a horse…" I tried to say, cutting Martyn off, but he interrupted me in turn:
"He must have taken detours because of his pursuers."
"That doesn't change their discipline. Only a truly trained army can achieve such a feat. No levy could manage this, especially not with such precision," I said, rolling my eyes, annoyed by the way he tried to reassure himself.
'Even if we miraculously held out for a day against such an army, we wouldn't last long enough for reinforcements to arrive,' I thought.
"Just look at their formation," I said, pointing to the perfectly positioned squares of soldiers, standing still and awaiting orders from their officers.
"Maybe it's…"
"He's right," said my father-in-law, silencing his eldest son and begrudgingly acknowledging my words, before stubbornly adding:
"But we cannot flee."
"Then what are we going to do? Just wait for them to come in and pillage and burn everything?!" I said, terribly frustrated by the pride that clearly clouded his judgment.
"We need to try to buy some time," Léonette's father said.
Just as he was about to add something, part of the army, which had been standing still, suddenly began advancing quickly, giving us no time to organize our defenses.
They had realized that we would not open the gates.
"I'm not sure they're willing to negotiate with you," I said, watching the wave of soldiers surging toward our walls.
---
-POV Arion Grandison-
"Ser Fredrik!" I called out, summoning one of Ronnet's Black Knights, who was also the captain of the second company of the Black Dogs.
He moved his horse closer to me to receive my instructions.
Once he was near, he removed his helm and waited for my orders.
"Just like at Ashford," I said, giving him a simple command, as he was an exceptional fighter.
'...Only thanks to Ronnet's blood,' I added internally, slightly envious.
He stared at me for a few seconds, then put his helm back on without a word, whistled for his dogs, and headed toward the walls.
I signaled Jonas Estermont to send his troops to cover the Black Dogs so they could blend in with the soldiers, and I waited as a third of my men began storming the castle gates.
'First Wylde, now Estermont. I'm using their men as cannon fodder, as theirs are far less trained than ours, and I'll need my own troops to hold Cider Hall.'
'In any case, that monster is more than enough to create a breach in this wall's defenses,' I thought, still impressed by the way Ser Fredrik had climbed the walls of Ashford.
Not only had the colossus managed to hold his position against defenders with superior numbers, but he had also created an opening, allowing many soldiers to take the wall and help him fend off wave after wave of men crashing down on him.
In less than half an hour, his small team of about a hundred soldiers had captured part of the walls and carved a path to the gates in a sea of blood.
'Let's hope he can do the same this time,' I thought as I watched the troops begin their assault.
---
-POV Garlan Tyrell-
"Stop them from climbing with those damned ladders!" my father-in-law shouted as he saw hundreds of men in uniforms different from those of ordinary soldiers.
'All in black and led by what seemed to be a knight,' I thought, noticing a man at the base of the walls, wearing full armor worthy of the finest knights of the Reach.
'I must fight,' I thought at first, wanting to lend a hand, but…
'I must get Léonette to safety.'
Arrows whistled endlessly as I struggled internally with what I should do.
I had a clear feeling that continuing like this would gain us nothing.
But I couldn't dictate to my father-in-law what he should do.
'And I'm not certain that even if we surrendered, we'd be spared,' I thought, recalling Margaery's letter that came with grandmother's.
'If Ronnet Connington is truly convinced that we betrayed him, then this is just a taste of what awaits us,' I thought, trembling at the memories I had of him that kept flooding back.
'They can't understand because they haven't seen him fight. He's a damned monster,' I thought, recalling his blood-soaked armor as if he had bathed in a crimson river.
"WATCH OUT…" an archer shouted, trying to warn us.
Before I could turn to him, distracted by my inner turmoil, I saw an axe split his face in two.
Before I could even process his death, a man set foot on the battlements.
"KILL HIM!" Martyn shouted frantically, charging the Black Knight.
Contrary to my usual behavior, I didn't rush in blindly. I stood frozen, paralyzed by fear.
It wasn't cowardice—no, it was simply because, for a moment, the image of this knight overlapped with that of Ronnet Connington.
Effortlessly, he pulled his axe from the archer's head, then gracefully dodged the swords aimed at skewering him by leaping into the air.
'They're the same kind of monsters,' I thought, perfectly recognizing Ronnet's style.
Landing behind his three attackers, he hurled his axe straight at me.
For a moment, I thought my life would end there.
But it didn't.
The axe barely grazed my face and buried itself in my father-in-law's skull.
For a brief moment, it felt as though time had stopped.
I turned my head to see Léonette's father's body collapse lifelessly to the ground.
I heard Martyn scream in rage, but the cry lasted only a moment.
When I turned to look at him, his head rolled to my feet, cleanly severed.
The soldiers nearest the Black Knight quickly fell back to form a circle around him, while more of his subordinates flooded in.
'For Leonette,' I thought as I stepped forward, deciding to take charge since both the lord and heir of the castle were now dead.
"WE SURRENDER!" I shouted, putting as much authority as I could into my voice.
"If you agree to guarantee our safet—"
I didn't have time to finish my sentence.
A sharp pain shot through the right side of my face, and I felt myself falling backward before plunging into darkness.