We were as stealthy as we could while finding our way into the entrance to the Street of Steel. Thankfully, the gold cloaks were stretched thin and barely patrolling.
When we finally reached our waiting place, a crumbling abandoned shack behind a nice manse. I half wished I hadn't used my pigeon as a scout. My head was a bit foggy, with all the skinchanging, but at the same time 'better safe than sorry' was going to define this whole venture.
Now, we only had to wait for Oberyn to make his move.
After he showed us his resolve, many of my worries banished. Not all, of course. I couldn't afford to blindly trust anyone with Sansa's safety depending solely on me.
It was an odd sense of being. Feeling reassured by mere words, while at the same time looking for enemies left and right.
Perhaps the nervousness would diminish, if I knew where Oberyn was.
One of my pigeons tried to follow the prince on whatever adventure he went on. Keyword: 'tried'.
I doubt it was intentional, but from one street crossing to the next Oberyn changed clothes, and from the limited point of view of my pigeon, I lost his track.
The rational part of me sounded the alarms at that instant. Part of me wanted to ditch the prince and go into hiding or go straight to Renly and offer him his niece and nephew on a silver plate.
Sansa would forever hate me, but she'd be alive to do so.
Other than that… I would hate myself for doing so.
Could I save my sister by stepping over the corpses of children? Would Robb be glad? Would Father be?
I clenched my hands to stop them from fiddling with my spear. Sansa couldn't see me nervous. Right here and now, I had to act as if everything was going according to plan.
"Perwyn?" I said. My voice didn't came out croaky, thank the gods. "I saw something weird on the walls. I want your opinion." I finished, gesturing him to follow.
"Aye."
Once we were far enough to not be heard, I turned. "Please tell me you weren't telling us everything when you told us of Oberyn's morning escapades while at Chataya's."
"Huh?"
"You told us Oberyn didn't do much. That he only talked with some people, and only that."
Perwyn stiffly tilted his head, a bit of color on his ears. "Yes, that's all he did."
The redness started crawling up his neck.
Fucking hell. No Perwyn, I'm not asking you about your and Oberyn's other escapades.
This was not the time and place, so I grabbed his shoulder in reassurance to get back on topic.
"When he talked with people, did he gave them coin?" He shook his head. "Mayhaps promised them something?"
The knight let out a shallow breath. "Not really, the prince didn't do anything of the sort. At least not when I was watching."
And there goes any reassurance I may have got out of this talk.
Oberyn's plan was simple. Mind you, simple does not mean easy, just… not complex.
From where I stood, the sounds of Stannis' assault could be heard, if barely. Not to toot my own horn, but I knew a thing or two about taking a city.
The elder Baratheon had the advantage here.
Renly's attack was expected, and as such, the defenders prepared for it. It didn't take much brain power to know the most bitter battle was on that side. Hell, Cerati saw the royal banner there. Tywin must be grasping at straws by now, sending the boy king as a morale boost to the troops is almost endgame.
With most of the defenders focusing on Renly's side, Stannis had a better chance of breaking in even if his forces are a fraction of his brother's.
The best commander in the Seven Kingdoms, indeed.
The man had the sharpest instincts for battle, a remarkable spy network, or could see the future for his attack to be this well timed.
We got back to the party with a bit of a spring in our step. It was all an act, children could be quite the handful if scared.
"Jon," Sansa said. "Don't you think we are too close to…" Her gaze glued to the city walls made it clear what she was referring to.
We were indeed close, barely a block and a half from the walls, but we had to or we wouldn't be able to see if Oberyn's way out was a go.
I smiled. "Didn't I told you, I've got plenty of experience on sieges. We are quite safe here," for now, that is. "Besides, we'll leave soon," hopefully.
Sansa nodded at that and turned to Jeyne. "See? We're safe," she said softly to her friend.
I had to swallow a sigh. I couldn't even deceive my little sister. She saw straight through me.
At least Jeyne and Sansa's prisoners looked a bit less afraid.
"Did you hear that Tommen?" the princess said. "We'll be fine."
Those words almost made me smile. I could see how they became friends.
The sound from the walls kept increasing ever so slowly, and with them, the restlessness of the party.
We had a little more time, before calling it out and going for plan C. Whatever that was.
The rumble of riders turned my gaze to the left.
"Knights?" I muttered.
"No real knight could be that clumsy riding," Perwyn said. "They are armored men trying to look like knights."
"Huh." Tywin pulling every trick on the book then. "They might be able to delay—"
They accelerated through the square toward the gate, but then took a hard turn to the left.
I turned to Perwyn, trying to find an explanation for whatever that was, only to find him equally baffled.
It looked almost as if they were char—
The sound of a mob getting closer stopped my line of thought instantly.
A flock of around two hundred people was entering the Fishmonger's Square. They all had helmets and steel tipped spears. From the looks of it, they were the reinforcements the defenders desperately needed.
Except… their steps weren't those of soldiers. They didn't have the cadence or the rhythm trained militia has, nor the hurry to join the defenders on the wall.
They crossed the square, and it was only then they raised their banner.
The black stag on a golden field stood proud at the front.
Time seemed to stop at that instant. Even the attackers seemed to halt.
Seconds felt like an eternity, until a tall man in ragged clothing moved forward and threw his spear skewering the closest gold cloak through his neck.
All hell break loose.
With the war cry of "Stannis!" the mob went into a frenzy and ran against the defenders.
Just like that, the crazy plan Oberyn proposed came forth. "I'll summon a riot big enough for everyone to be distracted, and amidst the chaos, we'll leave through an unmanned gate," the prince explained as if he was telling us about the weather.
There was one thing hearing the plan, another believing in Oberyn's resolve, and another entirely different thing seeing with your own eyes the riot he promised.
I shook my head. The how didn't mattered right now.
"The gate will fall soon. We have to leave before that happens," I said, trying to hide my shock at the turn of events.
We picked up everything worth a damn, separated our remaining coin in each of our pouches, and left the shack with direction to the west.
A turn to our right and into the Street of Steel, and Oberyn was lounging against a wall with the most obnoxious smile possible. From his posture to his expression, everything screamed 'I told you so' in a smug way.
"The Antler Men provided the kindling, I was but a mere spark," was the first thing that left the prince's lips when we got close.
I threw him his spear. He caught it with enviable ease, as if the spear was returning to its rightful place.
Before I could ask him more about the Antler Men, Oberyn bowed toward my sister. "I'm afraid, this is as far as my companionship goes, Princess Sansa."
She stiffed for less than a heartbeat. "What do you mean, Prince Oberyn?"
The Dornish prince hummed and did his best not to look at Myrcella and Tommen. "I still need to collect on some old debts, my princess."
It was obvious what he meant. If anything, I was glad he knew not to point his spear at children.
My sister seemed to understand as well. She gritted her teeth looking for the correct words to keep Oberyn by our side.
Sansa let out a sigh and stepped forward toward Oberyn. "Your arm, my prince." He obeyed and gave her his arm. Sansa tied her favor on him.
"You honor me, my princess," Oberyn said, his eyes warm.
"I expect you to return it, Prince Oberyn… one day"
His smile softened at her words. "I'll try my best."
The chaos from behind was getting louder, but I had something to say to the reckless fool able to summon a riot.
To tell him how Elia would have been happier if he just left. To remind him he still had family waiting for him in Dorne. To make him understand, that the soul crushing guilt he was carrying would make his sister cry a river.
But he already knew that, I'm sure.
"Oberyn… I think Elia is the most interesting Martell," I said instead.
"Hah!" He patted my shoulder and stood by my side. "Of course she is. She's my sister after all." He pushed me forward. "Now go. Go and take your sister home."
I half suspected he would leave the party sooner or later. And there was one last thing I could do for a friend.
A pigeon landed on the prince's shoulder.
"I saw Tywin leaving the Red Keep," I said. "My scout will guide you to him."
I could hear the smile on his face. "Thank you, Jon. You are a good man."
"Thank you, Oberyn. You're half-mad," was my reply.
He snorted.
And with that, our party left to find a way out.
###
With most of the defenders being spread thin, one small party could split away through even the most impregnable walls. That was my hope, at least.
Now, at a mere one hundred yards away from the King's Gate, reality imposed itself.
Yes, the walls were sparse, but they were enough guards to make an escape impossible.
Were I another person, I would have locked up in place and cursed everything. Well, not really. I did in fact locked up in place and cursed my luck. It's just that having the safety of Sansa depending on me shocked me out of it quite fast.
And the little and not at all painful little slap my left hand so helpfully provided returned my focus.
"I have a plan," I said. "Perwyn, I need you to find a few buckets of water. Dacey, you're with me. Sansa, hide here and don't make a sound."
Ser Barristan climbed a wall, sneaked his way to the dungeons and climbed back that same wall to rescue his king. I, on the other hand, just needed to force my way through a fortified gate from inside a besieged city.
It was a much easier prospect than what Ser Barristan did. Probably. Hopefully.
###
If there was one thing Robar had learned, was that war never goes as planned.
Sometimes you are completely outwitted by a boy and lose your whole army, sometimes your brother takes the impregnable fortress that is your castle, and other times, the knight you trusted to bring you the head of your rival king gets captured without accomplishing much.
When news of Ser Loras capture arrived, Renly's face was a sight to behold. Robar knew it would forever be etched in his memory.
As brave of a knight and as fearsome warrior as he was, Ser Loras couldn't win against Joffrey's Kingsguard.
Even if nobody spoke, Robar could almost hear what everyone thought.
First, Renly lost Storm's End in a single night to his elder brother. Next, his initial assault, as costly and hard fought as it was, didn't breached the city walls. And then, after suffering hit after hit to his military prowess, the time when everything seems to follow his designs, the Lord Commander of his Rainbowguard gets captured with no visible gain against the defenders.
"Luck is also a skill," his lord father used to tell. It was only now, after seeing Renly riding toward his camp, that Robar understood the meaning of those words. He secretly offered a prayer to the Seven Above. Losing favor with the gods, had never felt so real before.
Mere minutes after Renly left, the golden stag on a green field was commanding the attack. On his sides, his Rainbowguard rode proudly in bright armor.
A heavy sigh caught him unaware and made him turn backwards.
"Is something the matter, my lady?" Ser Wendel asked.
"I have a bad feeling about this," Lady Stark said, her gaze stone.
It was understandable. Earlier in the morning Renly was certain Tywin had all but surrendered when King Joffrey himself stood in the walls. Robar didn't quite understood why, but Lady Stark seemed to think Renly was right..
Having your commander captured didn't sound like surrendering, however.
The next attack wave hit the walls with what looked like unquenchable rage. Siege ladders latched to the walls in an endless beat. Men ran, shields high, men with no shields ran still. Arrows were exchanged, and through it all, Robar saw the walls crumble body by body.
Slowly, the walls started turning red.
Reacher knights oft spoke of glory. Of having their names in songs.
This wasn't any of it. There wasn't glory to be found in those walls.
"Such a waste," Ser Wendel said. "Young men fighting and dying, for what?"
A battering ram crumbled before reaching the gate, buried under heavy rocks. More and more men fought and died on those walls.
A horrifying scream cut through everything and commanded his attention.
"Seven Above," Robar heard himself mutter.
A man enveloped in fire, green fire, threw himself from the wall. The fall didn't end his suffering, as his screams continued until someone gave him the Stranger's gift.
"Wildfire"
The word made everything stop for a second.
Robar could almost see the doubt creeping over the soldiers below. And then, just as quickly as it stopped, the battle resumed.
The attackers fought harder. Men climbed the siege ladders with rage fueling their frenzy.
Minutes passed, and the wildfire was used sparingly. A few siege ladders fell to the substance, and the battering rams couldn't approach the gate anymore.
Even with all that, the defenders were being pushed back. Little by little, Renly's men took over the sides and kept pushing onto the gate.
The battle was already won, it was only a matter of time. A senseless waste.
It was then, when smoke started rising from the south.
"What's happening there?" Lady Stark asked.
"That's what happens when you use wildfire," Ser Wendel said with disdain. "Pyromancer's piss is uncontrollable."
It made sense. At the same time, it felt different.
"It's not wildfire," Lucas Blackwood said. "The smoke is whiter."
After a heartbeat, Lady Stark spoke. "Is that a hawk circling the fire?"
Above the King's Gate, a hawk was drawing circles. That didn't make sense, animals turn away from fire.
"We have to move," Lady Stark said.
"My lady?"
"Move. We have to go," she said.
Robar gave a final look at the Lion's Gate, it was mere minutes from falling.
"Faster!" Lady Stark spurned her mare.
The King's Gate was waiting them, the hawk kept circling it. And Robar felt his blood pump.
###
A/N: Ok, Oberyn's plan wasn't as crazy as Jon believed, not really. The Antler Men are rich merchants who in canon were Baratheon supporters. They were crushed before they could do a thing, but hey, Tyrion is not here, and Varys has adapted his plans.
Also, now we know why Lord Rosby doesn't like Perwyn that much.
As a side note, for some reason I thought it was written 'wyldfire' for a while, I don't know why, lol.
You can read two chapters ahead: p.a.t.r.e.o.n.c.o.m / yorud
Anyways, give me your comments ( ͝° ͜ʖ͡°)=o==[]::::::::::>