Once wildfire was released, no human power could control it. Besides, some of the stock was decades old, and its quality was extremely unstable.
"There's nothing we can do," Tyrion told his nephew. "Our fleet will be finished either way."
Stop worrying about your ships and worry about your head. Tyrion looked at Joffrey, but he could not say those words aloud. Bronn had been whipping the cattle earlier, drawing the chain across the river.
The currents were unpredictable, and the wildfire had not spread as evenly as Tyrion had hoped. He had not anticipated this, but it would suffice. The substance burned so fiercely that flesh would melt like fat. Tyrion thought the attackers would be afraid, but wildfire could only be used once.
Since the Wildfire Trap had not spread evenly, those enemies who had shamelessly come begging at King's Landing still made it ashore: the slavers of the Three Daughters, the slave soldiers of Yunkai, and their hired knights. They, too, had come to King's Landing to burn, kill, and plunder.
We need another sortie, Tyrion thought. He saw the carnage on the river. Most of the fleet had been destroyed, while some ships had escaped to the southern bank, their fate uncertain. Others at the very front had reached upstream before the wildfire exploded. Several grounded ships had even landed soldiers on the docks. Troops were most vulnerable while stumbling ashore. The enemy could not be allowed time to assemble on the northern bank.
Tyrion climbed down from the battlements. "Tell Lord Jaslyn there are enemies by the river. Also, hurry the repairs to our northern gate. Storm seems to have concentrated his main force in the south, but the northmen haven't appeared yet." He spoke to one of the messengers Bywater had sent, then turned