Dyre Den

The Wildling coalition began to retreat before they had even reached the Crabb Spearmen's formation, driven back by the dense hail of arrows from the Crabb Longbows.

The mountain wind was bitterly cold, stinging the skin.

The air reeked of blood, and groans of pain rang out across the battlefield.

The killing continued.

A Crabb soldier caught up with a fleeing Mountain Wildling. Gripping his longsword tightly, he plunged it viciously into the Wildling's armpit.

The blade pierced the Wildling's ribs and sank into his heart. When the soldier pulled it free, warm blood gushed out.

Ser Mason charged bravely at the front.

He easily sidestepped a Mountain Wildling's spear thrust, seized the shaft under one arm, then swung his sword in a swift stroke that cleaved the Wildling's head from his shoulders.

The Crabb Longbowmen split into groups of twenty to thirty and worked together to hunt down the enemy.

The pursuit of the Wildlings was little more than a one-sided slaughter.

After the battle, a sudden downpour began.

Gryn's tent.

Gryn was enjoying a rare moment of leisure, chatting with the commanders. The mood inside the tent was relaxed and amiable.

Ser Pell, soaked through by the rain, hurried into Gryn's tent. Usually composed, Pell now wore a trace of agitation.

Pell stepped before Gryn and bowed. "Good day, my lord!"

Gryn's eyes shifted, and his brow furrowed slightly. "My loyal Ser Pell, you've had a hard journey. Is there urgent news from the front?"

Gryn's steady voice soothed Pell's agitation. "Yes, my lord! Dyre Den has suddenly made a move. The castle has contacted the Wildling tribes they're on good terms with. They have at least ten thousand men. This is their challenge!"

Gryn took the challenge Pell handed him and skimmed it with interest, his tone full of mockery. "Ah, House Brune of Dyre Den, is it? Has House Crabb disturbed the peace of Crackclaw Point?"

Crackclaw Point, part of the Crownlands, truly was a lawless place. When nobles had a dispute over interests, they could simply go to war; no one ever thought to consult the Red Keep.

According to the laws of the kingdom, nobles in the Crownlands could not wage war against one another without orders from the Red Keep.

Gryn rose and walked over to the table, where a large map was spread out. Everyone gathered around, and the atmosphere grew tense at once.

They didn't have to wait long. Studying the map, Gryn pointed to a spot. "Here, Crescent Vale. We'll crush them here!"

Crescent Vale lay a little over twenty miles northeast of Gryn's current camp. Its entrance and exit were about a hundred meters wide; the valley itself was relatively broad, with steep slopes on either side. The whole valley resembled a crescent moon, so the culturally accomplished people of Crackclaw Point had named it Crescent Vale.

Gryn pointed to a level area some distance from the entrance to Crescent Vale. "Pell, send someone to reply to House Brune. House Crabb accepts the challenge. We'll settle this here."

Based on the intelligence Pell had provided, the proposed battlefield was roughly equidistant from both sides' positions. Gryn wasn't worried that they would refuse.

There were other nearby locations with terrain similar to Crescent Vale, but Gryn had chosen a place Dyre Den could readily accept.

If Dyre Den insisted on rejecting every location Gryn proposed, he would simply abandon the idea of a field battle and reinforce the camp where they stood, relying on fortifications to fight defensively.

The other side had ten thousand men; House Crabb had fewer than a thousand. That wouldn't tarnish the family's honor, even if word got around.

Besides, House Crabb had taken the initiative in proposing a field battle, and the chosen site already showed due respect for Crackclaw Point's traditions.

Just as Gryn had expected, after confirming the location, the combined forces of Dyre Den and the Wildlings readily agreed.

The proposed battlefield was entirely reasonable and in keeping with Crackclaw Point's traditions. No one suspected it might conceal a trap.

Though they mocked Gryn's youthful arrogance and overconfidence, they still admired his courage in accepting the fight. That was the Crackclaw Point way.

Three days later, at the appointed time, Gryn led Amparo and the clan soldiers to the battlefield, along with support troops and prisoners who had surrendered and were disguised as Crabb soldiers.

Amid the Wildlings' dark ranks, the banners bearing House Brune of Dyre Den's coat of arms stood out conspicuously.

Gryn surveyed the enemy. Beneath House Brune's banners, about two hundred soldiers stood in orderly formations, unlike the Wildlings around them.

House Brune's soldiers had around fifty suits of plate armor and twenty horses. They were wealthier than House Crabb.

On the Crabb side, the only ones riding horses were Gryn, Amparo, and a few of Gryn's guards.

The impoverished Lord Gryn gazed at House Brune's ranks and sighed inwardly. They had almost enough plate armor and horses for the journey to King's Landing; he wouldn't need to spend anything extra, saving a good many Gold Dragons.

As expected, strong taking was better than bitter tilling.

Gryn suddenly understood that the Ironborn had probably arrived at their maxim under circumstances much like his own.

After surveying the enemy as well, Amparo said, "Lord Gryn, they have about fifty horses altogether. It's a pity Lena can't shoot from horseback. With one more person, bringing them down would be much easier."

Gryn seemed to be in high spirits. A smile spread across his face. "I'll assign two mounted guards to ride with you. Remember to keep a safe distance. Our first priority is to deal with any cavalry that charges us."

No one knew what Gryn was thinking. They could never have guessed that his mood had suddenly improved because of House Brune's equipment. At most, they would assume that the battle to come had excited their warlike lord.

Amparo replied solemnly, "Understood, my lord. You can count on me!"

Gryn reached out and gave Amparo's arm a light pat. "Good. I've always trusted you. You deserve a suit of plate armor, too."

Amparo, who usually thought in very straightforward terms, immediately grasped the implication of Gryn's words for once. The two of them turned their eyes to House Brune's ranks.

The Vale, Gulltown.