When Paths Cross, the Brave Prevail

On the Goldroad.

Two hundred Westerlands vanguard cavalrymen.

Like hounds catching the scent of blood, they galloped through the rolling hills.

The commander of this force was a mercenary knight from the Westerlands, and its members were all wandering knights of the Westerlands hired for coin.

Their eyes were fixed on the small Riverlands cavalry unit moving slowly ahead.

The enemy was few in number, their banners sparse. They looked like a scouting vanguard.

They were walking rewards.

The mercenary knight raised his lance, his voice distorted by excitement beneath his visor.

The generous reward promised by Tyrion Lannister burned in every Westerlands man's veins.

In their eyes, the Riverlands men were no longer mere enemies.

They were heaps of gold waiting to be harvested, steps toward titles and lands.

"Charge! For Lannister!"

Hoofbeats exploded like thunder, kicking up clouds of dust.

The Riverlands cavalry ahead seemed terrified by the sudden assault. After a brief resistance, they began to retreat in disarray.

The Westerlands knights gave chase with wild laughter.

Yet as they crested a gentle slope, the supposedly "fleeing" Riverlands forces suddenly halted.

More Riverlands cavalry poured out from the woods and low ground on both sides, like a gray tide that instantly filled the Westerlands men's view.

But this did not frighten the blood-maddened Westerlands men.

The Westerlands knights roared. When their lances broke, they drew their longswords and hacked viciously at one Riverlands rider after another.

The battle instantly fell into a deadlock.

The Westerlands army was well equipped and well trained. Even at a numerical disadvantage, they fought the Riverlands cavalry bloodily, driven by fierce courage and their hunger for gold.

Within Tyrion Lannister's besieging camp.

"My lord! The vanguard has encountered the enemy!"

A scout galloped in to report.

"It appears to be a sizable