The Battle of Blackwater Rush

Dusk fell.

King's Landing, Mud Gate.

The air was foul, thick with the fishy stench of the Blackwater Rush and the rot of the mud.

As well as the reek emanating from over ten thousand Poor Fellows and more than twenty thousand King's Landing civilians helping defend the city.

Young Toman stood behind the battlements, one hand resting on the hilt at his waist.

A Junker knight emerged from the shadows like a ghost and hurried to Toman's side.

He lowered his voice, as though afraid of disturbing the others.

"Ser Toman."

"We've made contact with the Antler Men."

"They believed us completely."

Toman did not turn around. His gaze remained fixed on the campfires stretching for miles along the opposite bank of the Blackwater Rush.

A curve of mockery and self-ridicule touched the Junker knight's lips.

"Those greedy merchants simply don't believe true loyalty exists in this world."

"Especially from mud-eel knights of common birth like us."

"They think us greedy, cunning, savage, crude, utterly without scruples—no different from bandits."

"They believe we would betray Lord Suleiman in exchange for a way to live and Gold Dragons."

"So they believed our 'defection' almost immediately."

"I've already made an arrangement with them."

The officer raised a hand and drew it across his throat.

"Tonight, they will make their move."

"They'll attack the guards, open the Mud Gate, and welcome the royal army into the city."

"Good." Toman nodded, his face expressionless. Only the hand gripping his sword hilt tightened further.

"Let them come. Give them the opportunity. Let them believe themselves heroes, let them think everything is under their control."

"We will set the stage for them."

The officer saluted, then silently retreated into the shadows.

Toman turned to look beside him.

An old man in gray robes stood there,