Under the dense arrow rain of the Crabb Longbows, the wildling coalition began to rout before they could even reach the phalanx of the Crabb Spear Corps. (TL/N: phalanx refers to a tight military formation of soldiers)
The mountain wind was cold, stinging the skin.
The air was thick with the scent of blood, and wails of agony filled the ears from every direction.
Yet, the slaughter had to continue.
A Crabb soldier caught up with a fleeing mountain wildling. Gripping his longsword tightly, the soldier thrust it viciously into the wildling's armpit with a sickening squelch.
The blade pierced through the wildling's ribs and punctured the heart. When the soldier withdrew his sword, warm blood sprayed forth.
Ser Massen Baker charged heroically at the very front.
Facing a spear thrust head-on by a mountain wildling, he easily sidestepped to dodge it, seizing the opportunity to clamp the spear shaft under one arm. With a swift swing of his longsword, he decapitated the wildling in a single strike.
The Crabb Longbow troops divided into small squads of twenty to thirty men, coordinating their efforts to strangle the remaining resistance.
The pursuit of the wildlings was nothing less than a one-sided slaughter.
–
After the battle, a heavy rain fell abruptly.
Inside Glyn Crabb's tent.
Enjoying a rare moment of leisure, Glyn was conversing with his commanders in a harmonious atmosphere.
Ser Pell, soaked to the bone by the heavy rain, hurried into the tent. Usually steady and composed, Pell now wore a trace of anxiety on his face.
Pell stood before Glyn and bowed. "Good day, my Lord!"
Glyn's eyes shifted slightly, and his brow furrowed. "Ser Pell, you have had a hard journey. Is there urgent military intelligence?"
Glyn's steady voice soothed Pell's agitation. "Yes, my Lord! Dyre Den has made a sudden move. Dyre Den has contacted friendly wildling tribes; they number at least ten thousand. This is a letter of war!"
Glyn took the challenge letter handed over by Pell with interest, scanned it, and spoke with a tone of mockery. "Heh, House Brune of Dyre Den? Saying that the House Crabb has broken the peace of Crackclaw Point?"
Crackclaw Point, though technically part of the Crownlands, was indeed a lawless land. When conflicts of interest arose between nobles, they fought as they pleased; no one would bother remembering that the Red Keep existed.
According to the laws of the realm, nobles of the Crownlands were forbidden from waging war on one another without a command from the Red Keep.
–
Glyn stood up and walked to the table spread with a large map. The others gathered around, the atmosphere instantly turning tense.
They did not have to wait long. staring at the map, Glyn extended a finger and tapped a specific spot. "Here. Crescent Valley. We will crush them here!"
Crescent Valley was located about twenty miles northeast of Glyn's current encampment. The valley's entrance and exit were roughly 100 meters wide; the interior was relatively spacious, flanked by steep cliffs on both sides. The entire valley was shaped like a crescent moon, hence the people of Crackclaw Point—with their profound cultural achievements—named it Crescent Valley.
Glyn then pointed to an area of flat terrain some distance from the entrance of Crescent Valley. "Ser Pell, send men to reply to House Brune. House Crabb accepts the challenge. We will decide the victor here."
Based on the intelligence provided by Pell, the battle location Glyn chose was relatively fair in terms of distance for both parties. Glyn was not worried that they would refuse.
There were other locations nearby with terrain similar to Crescent Valley, but Glyn simply chose a place that Dyre Den would easily accept.
If Dyre Den insisted on refusing every location Glyn chose, Glyn would simply abandon the idea of a field battle, strengthen the camp's defenses on the spot, and fight a defensive war relying on fortifications.
The enemy had ten thousand men, while House Crabb had less than a thousand; word getting out would not tarnish the family honor.
Besides, House Crabb had proactively offered a field battle, and the chosen location fully respected the traditions of Crackclaw Point.
–
As Glyn expected, after the coalition of Dyre Den and the wildlings confirmed the location, they readily agreed.
The location for the decisive battle was reasonable and accorded with the traditions of Crackclaw Point; no one suspected any conspiracy within.
Although they outwardly mocked Glyn's youthful arrogance and overestimation of his own abilities, inwardly they admired his courage to fight. This was very Crackclaw Point.
At the appointed time three days later, Glyn arrived at the battlefield leading Emparo and the clan soldiers, along with auxiliaries and surrendered captives disguised as Crabb soldiers.
Amidst the dark, crushing mass of the wildling formation, the banners bearing the House Brune sigil of Dyre Den were exceptionally conspicuous.
Glyn observed that under the House Brune banners, there were about 200 soldiers formed in a neat phalanx, contrasting sharply with the surrounding wildlings.
House Brune's soldiers possessed about fifty suits of iron armor and twenty warhorses. They were wealthier than House Crabb.
On the Crabb side, the only ones mounted on warhorses were Glyn, Emparo, and a few of Glyn's guards.
The impoverished Lord Glyn gazed at the House Brune phalanx, sighing to himself. The iron armor and warhorses needed for the trip to King's Landing are just about covered here. No need for extra expenses; this will save quite a few Gold Dragons.
Indeed, taking by force is better than slow earning..
Glyn suddenly realized that the Ironborn likely understood their words of wisdom under circumstances very similar to his own.
Emparo finished her observation as well and said, "Lord Glyn, they have about fifty horses in total. It is a pity Lena does not know horse archery; if we had one more person, shooting them down would be much easier."
Glyn seemed to be in a very good mood, a smile appearing on his face. "I will assign two mounted guards to follow you. Remember to keep a safe distance. The primary target for us is the charging cavalry."
No one knew Glyn's inner thoughts. Even if they racked their brains, they would never guess that Glyn's sudden good mood was due to House Brune's equipment. The others merely assumed the battle-hardened lord was excited by the impending combat.
Emparo said solemnly, "Understood, my Lord. Please rest assured!"
Glyn reached out and patted Emparo on the shoulder. "Mn, I have always believed in you. You ought to have a suit of plate armor, too."
The straightforward-minded Emparo rarely understood the hidden meaning in Glyn's words so quickly. Together with Glyn, she fixed his gaze upon the House Brune phalanx.
(End of this chapter)
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