Outside King's Landing, on the banks of the Blackwater Rush.
Fierce winds swept across the river, stirring up mist and tugging at the banners above the sprawling camps of a hundred thousand men.
Renly's army was a forest of steel and canvas, covering the fields and hills as far as the eye could see.
Yet his army did not attack the walls of King's Landing directly. Instead, it made camp in orderly fashion a full league from the walls.
Beneath the Golden Rose banner, Renly wore gleaming silver armor and a green velvet cloak, mounted on a magnificent white warhorse.
A trace of satisfied composure rested on his handsome face as he gazed at the defenders on the distant walls.
In his hand was a secret letter whose wax seal had been melted open.
The letter brought intelligence from Littlefinger: King's Landing had exhausted its food supplies, starving people were everywhere, and riots could erupt at any moment.
Littlefinger also told him that Tyrion intended to use wildfire to repel the attacking army.
Wildfire's power was terrifying.
That left Renly deeply hesitant.
Renly considered for a long while before finally turning to the nobles beside him. "Pass the order to the entire army. We will make camp here and starve this hungry city out. Let them collapse on their own. We must not give the Imp any opening!"
Then he turned to Randyll Tarly and Loras Tyrell beside him. "Take twenty thousand elite troops and move your camp three leagues west to hold the key approaches. That old lion Tywin will never stand by and watch King's Landing fall. Your task is to stop him. Even if he bleeds to his last drop, he must not take a single step closer to King's Landing!"
"As you command, Your Grace!"
Loras's