Below King's Landing, the battlefield lay in ruins.
The wreckage left by the previous assault still burned.
The blackened skeletons of siege towers stood crookedly in the earth, wisps of smoke still rising from their frames.
Fragments of battering rams lay scattered at the foot of the walls, their splintered timbers still bearing the marks of fire.
Shield-bearers covered the wounded as they were dragged away from the walls toward the camp behind them, leaving dark red trails.
The air was thick with the stench of scorching and blood, with cries of pain and the whimpers of the dying.
Three li from the walls of King's Landing, before the battle lines of the Templar Order.
Randyll Tarly reined in his warhorse and gazed at the walls ahead.
Behind him, Earl Rowan, who oversaw the army's supplies, rode up beside him. "Earl Randyll, the next batch of siege towers has been assembled in the rear. They can be pushed to the front at any time."
Randyll did not answer immediately.
His gaze swept over the dense ranks of defenders on the walls.
Then he glanced at the ballistae and catapults on the distant corner towers and fell silent for a moment.
"Send the order," he told a nearby messenger. "Bring up the siege towers and battering rams. The infantry under Earl Caswell and Earl Crennan will take siege ladders and launch a frontal assault on the Lion Gate."
"The five counterweight trebuchets on the left will make a feint, bombarding the walls near the Lion Gate. The ten on the right will wait for my command, then fire together at the King's Gate."
The messenger departed with his orders.
Moments later, the massive counterweight trebuchets, their upright wooden beams over ten meters tall, swung around under the hands of dozens of