A Sinful Dragon Lives On; the Dynasty Will Fall, Heaven and Earth Will Collapse

Several hundred routed Westerlands cavalrymen returned, bringing news that Ser Adam Marbrand had fallen into an ambush.

Tyrion Lannister reined in his warhorse. The specially made saddle held him firmly in place, but it could not steady his heart, which now felt ready to collapse.

He looked around. More than twenty thousand fully armed Westerlands soldiers surrounded him, their banners blotting out the sky, their spears and halberds standing like a forest.

They were all sworn vassals of House Lannister, extensions of Lannister power.

And yet he was utterly alone.

Not a single pair of eyes looked upon him with reverence.

To control this enormous army, to make those arrogant Westerlands lords obey the commands of the "Imp"...

He had racked his brains and exhausted every scrap of political wisdom he possessed over the choice of commanders.

He had entrusted the left wing to Gregor Clegane.

That Mad Dog looked down on him. Whenever he passed Tyrion, he would even snort heavily through his nostrils. But The Mountain was his father Tywin Lannister's sharpest hunting hound.

So long as it was a Lannister command, that dog would bite.

Assigning The Mountain to command the left wing had drawn criticism from quite a few lords of higher rank, who considered it an insult.

But in the face of The Mountain's suffocating strength, no one dared voice their objections.

He had entrusted the right wing to his kinsman Stafford Lannister.

That, too, had been a reluctant choice.

Everyone, including his father, held an astonishingly unanimous opinion of Stafford Lannister.

As a commander, he was appallingly mediocre. He was old, and his mind had never been particularly sharp.

But he was a Lannister, and he was weak-willed. That meant he would obey orders to the letter instead of acting on his own like