Chapter 252 The Name of Joffrey
Mace Tyrell's troubled expression vanished instantly, and he said in a relaxed tone, "Margaery, just relax and wait to wear the crown of the Seven Kingdoms Queen. Your grandmother and I will arrange everything..."
Margaery's doe-like eyes were filled with adoration for her father. "Before you, I am like a child who has never grown up. The Gods bless you."
Lord Mace squinted and stroked his beard, saying, " Margaery, your father will always support you and be your strong backing."
He paused mid-stroke, stroking his beard, and murmured, " Lady Olenna warned me not to disturb her before entering King's Landing... Hmm... She's still angry about Renly... I need to find a good excuse..."
Margaery looked at her father, who was talking to himself, and smiled slightly. She said softly, "Father, I wonder when the war will end. I miss Grandmother so much."
As she finished speaking, the dignified Lord of Highgarden suppressed the urge to slap his thigh. After a pause, he said with satisfaction, "My Margaery, you are a good child. I think your grandmother must be missing you too; she loved you the most."
He stood up from his chair. "I'll take you back to Highgarden; we'll get ready and then we'll leave."
Margaery blinked her large eyes and asked, "Father, can we leave? What about the army here?"
Lord Mace waved his hand dismissively, saying, "Just a few tens of thousands of troops. I'll leave Garlan (his second son) here."
He stroked his beard and sighed, " The Gods bless you, Garlan is recovering well. He practices swordsmanship with his Left Hand all day long. The instructor Gryn gave you is excellent (Chapter 152), what a good boy."
Margaery walked over and took her father's arm, her beautiful eyes curving into crescents. "Father," she said, "It seems the House Tyrell needs to help Crabb."
Lord Mace laughed heartily and said, "You are all good children, I am proud of you."
He paused, patted his daughter's hand, and said, "If I stay here, I'm a little worried that the Old Lion's worries will affect the war in King's Landing. Knowing that I'm going to Highgarden, he can actually focus on dealing with Stannis."
He added, "Your grandmother was right; given the Lannister ' inherent flaws, they will never have steadfast allies."
Margaery's eyes trembled slightly, and she smiled sweetly, saying, "Father, your insight is truly remarkable; I will remember it."
Clang, clang, clang... In a training ground at the camp, Garlan Tyrell and a bald old swordsman were sparring, their swordsmanship clashing back and forth, the ear-piercing sound of metal colliding constantly ringing out.
"Oh, my son, Garlan the Gallant."
Hearing his father's voice, Ser Garlan moved his Left Hand, parrying the old swordsman's sword, and said, "Let's rest for a while."
He took the towel handed to him by the servant and wiped the sweat from his face. After losing his right arm (Chapter 148), although he knew that he now needed to be served by others, he still insisted on his old habits.
"Good day, Father, Margaery." Ser Garlan's otherwise somewhat aloof face broke into a smile.
Lord Mace nodded and said kindly, "It seems it won't be long before I see you galloping on horseback. Thank the Gods!"
Garlan touched the hilt of the sword at his waist and said, "Father, the Reach of the Golden Rose has no shortage of my valiant sword."
Lord Mace paused slightly, then comforted him, " Garlan, my son, you will always be the sharpest sword of House Tyrell. I believe in you."
Margaery nodded gently, her eyes moist, and said, "Brother, in my heart, in everyone's heart, you are the mighty Knight of Garlan."
Ser Garlan smiled and shook his head, saying, "Father, sister, you've both misunderstood. What I meant was that in the midst of chaos in the Seven Kingdoms, a single sword can't do much. The Golden Rose needs a renowned general like Randyll."
He paused, then continued, "I heard about the duel that took place in the Vale, and it makes me even more convinced that a single sword cannot determine the outcome of a war... Ha, a few thousand archers defeated tens of thousands of cavalry, I can't even imagine how he did it... Father!"
His gaze hardened. "It's rumored that Lord Crabb himself admitted that he learned a great deal from you. Is that true?"
Lord Mace stroked his beard and remarked, " Gryn is a clever boy. I liked him, so I taught him the art of war."
Upon hearing this, Ser Garlan immediately knelt on one knee, his voice filled with pleading. "Father, I beg for your guidance, and I also beg you to allow me to lead the army into battle."
As Lord Mace helped his son up, he hesitated. He also needed a resounding victory. On the way here, he had thought of a better target than Storm's End: Brightwater Keep in the Reach.
House Florent of Brightwater Keep, vassals of House Tyrell, had all pledged allegiance to Stannis. Therefore, after the Battle of the Blackwater's Landing, he could rightfully conquer there.
Looking at Garlan's empty right arm, Lord Mace sighed inwardly... Oh well, I'll give this achievement to my son.
Anyway, his original plan was to wait until he captured Brightwater Keep and then grant it to Garlan as his fiefdom... So be it.
And he himself... also owns Storm's End!
Lord Mace patted Ser Garlan on the shoulder and said, "I promise you, once the war in King's Landing is over, I will let you lead the army into battle, my son."
Ironoaks, located on the lakeshore, has only one land-based "access" via a large stone bridge. Gryn Crabb tried the same trick again, sending over 80 Crabb Soldiers to impersonate soldiers of the City's Declaration of Lords Declarant in an attempt to trick their way through the gates. However, they were exposed by Sir Morton Weywood, the heir to Ironoaks, as they crossed the stone bridge connecting the city gates, and their plan failed.
The cost of forcibly attacking the city with soldiers was too high. While ordering Amparo to lead the main force toward the Eyrie, Gryn arranged for soldiers to take turns verbally abusing the enemy outside the city gates in an attempt to provoke them and lure them out of the castle.
From morning till night, one day... two days... three days... the gates of Ironoaks remained completely still.
On the fourth day, Gryn suddenly had an idea and used a catapult to "send" a dress into Ironoaks. Then... the gates of Ironoaks were suddenly opened, and Lady Anya's three sons, with their bloodshot eyes wide open, led their cavalry out in a rush.
Ser Morton Weywood, Lady Anya's eldest son and heir to Ironoaks, roared from his galloping warhorse, "For the Earl of Weywood!"
Lady Anya's second son, Sir Donnel Waynwood, roared, "Kill Crabb!"
Lady Anya's youngest son, Wallace Waynwood, roared, "For Mom!"
In the distance, Gryn, with his exceptional hearing, said, "..."
Horses galloped forward, their cavalrymen shouting in unison, "Long live Ironoaks!"
The long, drawn-out bugle call of Crabb immediately rang out.
The Tricenturion lancer of Crabb shouted, "Form ranks! Form ranks! Form ranks!"
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The gleaming spear tips seemed to writhe as the Crabb spearmen formed a crescent-shaped defensive formation in the direction the Ironoaks cavalry were charging from.
"Pressure your spears!"
Crabb's pikemen stepped forward and crouched low, their pikes all tilting forward.
As the Ironoaks cavalry approached, hundreds of arrows flew out from behind the spearmen's formation, hurtling towards them like a whirlwind.
Crabb's arrows rained down from the sky like a storm, and the Ironoaks cavalrymen raised their knightly shields in an attempt to block the arrows.
However, the density and speed of the arrows were devastating; blood splattered everywhere, and cavalrymen and their horses fell to the ground, all struck by arrows.
Sir Morton Weywood pointed his sword forward and roared, " Ironoaks! Attack!"
The barrage of arrows slowed the Ironoaks cavalry, but they continued their charge in a wedge formation, disregarding their own casualties.
Passing through the rain of arrows and facing a barrage of spears, most warhorses stopped their charge at the last moment and dodged, while a few charged headlong into the air, spear tips piercing their chests and killing them instantly.
The warhorses leaped forward, and the spears thrusting in from all directions brought them crashing down. But at the same time, Kleber's spear formation also began to crumble under the heavy pressure of the Ironoaks cavalry.
As the bugle sounded, Crabb's longbowmen left their positions and joined the melee.
Sir Morton, who had fallen to the ground due to his injured mount, staggered to his feet with the help of his squire. Inside his cylindrical helmet, blood streamed from the wound on his forehead into his eyes, making it impossible for him to open them.
He shouted loudly with his eyes closed, "Help me take off my helmet."
Sir Morton had just taken a breath after removing his heavy helmet when a sharp whistling sound suddenly rang in his ears, and with a thud, an arrow struck his face.
Sir Morton fell backward and crashed heavily to the ground.
The encirclement was gradually tightening, leaving no room to maneuver. The tall horses and the Ironoaks cavalry riding them became fixed targets for the spearmen and archers.
Almost instantly, in despair, the House Waynwood brothers, Donald and Willis, exchanged a glance through the gaps in their visors.
Long live Ironoaks!
Instead of retreating, the two men led their dozens of cavalrymen in another direction, where the largest Swamp Marigold Banner on the battlefield fluttered.
Finally, their suicidal charge broke through the encirclement of the Crabb Soldiers, and the remaining few shouted " Ironoaks " as their horses hooves continued unabated.
Brienne, Gryn's bodyguard, watched with excitement as the Weywood brothers rushed towards them.
He tugged on the reins and said, " Brienne, those two are yours."
After he finished speaking, Brienne was taken aback for a moment, then glanced at the guards around Gryn, and then she showed an embarrassed expression.
Gryn smiled and waved, saying, "I'm safe. Go ahead."
"Yes, ma'am!" Brienne shouted excitedly, kicked the spurs, and spurred her horse off.
As the three approached, Brienne yanked on the reins and slammed her knight's shield into Donnel Waynwood's face, while her horse raised its hard horseshoes and swept them at Wallace Waynwood's horse.
Almost instantly, one of the Weywood brothers died on the spot, while the other fell from his horse.
Brienne sat quietly on her horse, waiting for Willis to get up before she dismounted.
Brienne threw down her shield and pointed her longsword at her opponent. Willis shook his head and picked up his longsword, which had fallen to the ground.
Upon getting close, Brienne raised her sword and slashed fiercely. Willis parried with his sword but staggered back a step.
Brienne's attacks intensified, and Willis could only parry. The force from the longsword grew stronger, forcing him to retreat repeatedly.
Finally, feeling dizzy and disoriented, Willis collapsed onto the grass.
Brienne didn't wait for him to get up this time. She pressed forward and brought her sword down on his head, splattering blood everywhere, ending the fight.
Brienne rode back to Gryn's side, patting her chest, and said, "Lord Gryn, thank you for the honor you have bestowed upon me."
Gryn nodded slightly and said, "I thought you'd get rid of them quickly. You can do it."
Brienne moved her thick lips and said, "He was an excellent the Warrior, and this is the most dignified way I can think of to die."
"Well done, Miss Brienne." She seemed to have been influenced by the simple and honest folk customs of the Crackclaw Point, just like him.
After a pause, Gryn suddenly said, "They seem to have misunderstood the dress."
Brienne blinked her clear blue eyes and said, "Yes, Lord Gryn. I heard you. Your aim is to provoke the enemy. I saw it; the dress is quite ordinary."
Gryn smiled and said, "Thank you for your honesty, Brienne."
At the gates of Ironoaks, a tall, muscular young man with sandy-haired hair led a group of women, the Maiden, little girls, and little boys out of the castle and offered to surrender to Crabb.
Gryn tightened the reins, looked down for a moment, and said, "Stranger, can you represent Ironoaks? Please tell me your identity."
The young man with the sandy hair raised his head. He had blue eyes and a hooked nose, and was handsome.
He began, "Your Excellency Lord Crabb, my name is Harold Hatton. By the law, I am the heir to Duke Robert Arryn."
He pointed behind him and said, "They are Lady Anya's daughter, granddaughter, and grandson, and I am Lady Anya's adopted son. I can surrender to you on behalf of Ironoaks."
Ser Harold, also known as " Harry the Heir " and sometimes as "Young Eagle King," is a squire from House Hardyng. His House Arryn bloodline is maternal, and according to the House Arryn's order of succession, if the Duke of Robert Arryn were to die, Harold would inherit the titles of Duke of the Eyrie and Warden of the Vale.
After he finished speaking, Gryn remained silent, and the atmosphere became tense.
After a moment of silence, Gryn's steady voice rang out. "Although I am leading the troops into the Vale in the name of King Joffrey, I must acknowledge the bravery of the Vale Knights; their fearlessness and sacrifice are truly admirable."
He sighed, " Lady Anya persevered to the very end for the Declaration of Lords Declarant, and as her opponent, I admire her courage."
Amidst low sobs, he raised his voice. "In the name of Joffrey I, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, King of the Seven Kingdoms, of House Baratheon and House Lannister, I, Gryn Crabb, accept the surrender of Ironoaks and promise you your safety and the treatment you deserve."