"The old gods above!"
"Warriors, protect us!"
"Lady of Spears, watch over us!"
"God of Light, grant us victory!"
Before the battle began, every soldier whispered to their own gods. The Wolf Pack Company prayed to the Seven and the old gods of the North. The Unsullied murmured in honor of the Lady of Spears. The Free Army—coming from the Disputed Lands—turned toward R'hllor, the Lord of Light, or to Lys' goddess of love. A battlefield always revealed the diversity of faith as clearly as it revealed fear.
From the battlements of Firegrass Manor, Gendry watched a black mass of soldiers rising on the distant horizon like a storm tide. The Myrmen had returned—this time with overwhelming numbers.
Their second offensive was nothing short of desperate. The Archons of Myr had set aside all internal disputes and hired nearly every mercenary company they could buy: the Cat's Company, the Spear Company, the infamous Second Sons, and countless other sellswords from every back alley of Myr.
"It seems the Free Knights we stationed along the road did only limited damage," The Handsome Man said grimly as he stood beside Gendry.
"They did what they were meant to do—harass the enemy and drain their morale," Gendry replied. "In the end, the true test is here, at the gates."
Longspear tightened his grip on his spear. "The Myrmen have also stationed twenty warships along the coast. They're preparing a combined land-and-sea assault. The Tyroshi even let their fleet pass freely."
The Myrmen had learned from their earlier defeat. This time, they would attack from two sides. But the coastline near Firegrass Manor was long and rugged; landing would be difficult. The real threat was the army marching straight toward them.
"The coast cannot be fully blockaded," Gendry said. "The Disputed Lands' mouth is too wide. And do these men truly dare to land on hostile shore?"
"There's another threat," Maester Qyburn warned. "The blood plague. Beware of the Myrmen throwing infected corpses over the walls."
The blood plague—silent, deadly—had destroyed countless armies since the Dawn Age. Qyburn looked pale merely speaking of it.
"The old maester has a point," The Handsome Man admitted. "But Bloodbeard doesn't strike me as clever enough for such schemes. He wants the Manor intact. He wants loot."
"Myr is bleeding itself dry for this war," Gendry said. "So we will bleed them back. After this, we will seize every Manor and town that belongs to them. We'll crush the Myrmen until they can no longer stand."
"We follow the original plan," Gendry continued. "Like hammer and anvil, we'll break the Blackfyre rebels—just as the King's Party armies once did. After today, our reputation will be known across the Free Cities."
The others echoed a firm, "Yes!"
Gendry's "anvil" was Firegrass Manor itself—now a fortress of sharpened stakes, strengthened moats, and towering defenses. Several smaller Manors in front of it had been evacuated and converted into open traps. Runaway slaves helped clear fields and reinforce fortifications.
The Manor's walls bristled with newly installed large trebuchets and scorpion ballistas—machines that would chip away at the enemy line and morale.
Gendry's "hammer" consisted of four hundred knights—the elite fist of the Wolf Pack Company—supported by two thousand Free Army soldiers who would follow him outside the walls when the time came. In the surrounding woods, Dick the Fletch led guerrilla longbowmen, ready to strike from hidden ridges and thick forests.
From atop the walls, Gendry finally saw the symbols of the attackers: the snarling cat banner of the Cat's Company, the broken sword of the Second Sons, the long spear emblem of the Spear Company. The mercenaries had arrived.
Bloodbeard led the Myrish center. The Second Sons formed the left wing. The Spear Company took the right. Thousands of infantry followed behind. At the rear stood three massive trebuchets.
"About six thousand," Gendry murmured. "But Bloodbeard is their true strength."
Longspear nodded. "The Second Sons' cavalry is poorly equipped. Their armor is inferior. Bloodbeard's elite numbers no more than a thousand. The others are common sellswords or hastily gathered Free Knights—barely trained."
Gendry turned to The Handsome Man. "Treasurer, once I ride with the cavalry, the Manor is in your hands."
The Handsome Man bowed with theatrical seriousness. "I will live and die with the Manor."
---
On the Myrmen's Side
Bloodbeard, enormous and loud as a warhorn, cursed while adjusting his long sword. His fiery beard bounced with every angry huff.
"Damn that brat! If not for those guerrilla slaves, we would've reached this cursed Manor by noon!" he roared.
Bloodbeard was a beast of a man, notorious for his fondness of wine, women, and slaughter. The Cat's Company obeyed him because he was stronger, louder, and fiercer than all of them combined.
"Those empty Manors on the way—every shell we broke had a pack of stubborn slaves inside!" Bloodbeard continued. "Cost us too many brothers."
Mero, commander of the Second Sons, grinned with excitement. He was tall, pale-green-eyed, and had a waist-length red-gold beard that made him look like some ill-tempered giant. His company's reputation was so vile that most Free Cities refused to hire them.
"Crush this boy quickly," Mero said. "He has taken too many Myrish Manors. There must be enough gold inside Firegrass Manor to drown in."
"He could have bought us off with gold at the start," Mero continued. "But he resisted."
Bloodbeard snorted. "Small gains are worthless. Take the Manor, and the gold and slaves will be ours. Look alive, Bastard of the Titan—opportunities like this are rare."
He glanced toward the Spear Company. "And keep an eye on those horsemen. They have plenty of mounts but little courage. They'll bolt at the first sign of trouble."
The Cat's Company was primarily infantry—about 2,700 foot soldiers and 300 cavalry. The Second Sons had roughly 500 mounted fighters. The Spear Company had the most cavalry—800 riders, making them unpredictable.
Then Bloodbeard shouted, "Trebuchets! Pull!"
The three giant trebuchets rolled into position. They bore proud Myrish names: Wolfslayer, Lady of Myr, and Glory of Myr.
"Mero!" Bloodbeard barked. "Send men to guard those beauties!"
"Of course, Commander," Mero replied with a mocking bow. "You are the rightful leader, after all."
The central Myrish formation stretched in deep ranks, but they did not advance. Instead, the trebuchets unleashed a thunderous roar.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Massive stones hurled through the sky, soaring toward Firegrass Manor.
On the walls, Gendry clenched his jaw. "If those trebuchets continue, our defenses will crumble. I must destroy them."
Firegrass Manor was strong but not invulnerable. The walls could not withstand repeated strikes from three siege engines built specifically to tear them down.
Gendry strapped on his black scale armor, layered with fine Myrish silk that shimmered and could deflect arrows more effectively than chainmail. He mounted the black stallion gifted to him by the Red Viper—one of the finest Dornish horses ever bred.
On his saddle hung a spiked warhammer, an arakh taken from a defeated foe, and a dark oak shield. Behind him, Longspear rode silently, leading four hundred knights armored head to toe in steel. Behind them, a soldier carried the grey-white banner of the Wolf Pack, its roaring wolf's head fluttering in the rising wind.
The storm of battle had begun.
Advance Chapters avilable on patreon (Obito_uchiha)