Chapter 76: One rider against a thousand (please keep reading)
The horses' iron-shod hooves struck the low hills on the plains east of Myr in a steady, measured rhythm. Across the river, they could see the Dothraki Green Sea advancing toward the waters of the Qhoyne River. The Dothraki had already crossed the Rhoyne, and now they had crossed another river.
Gendry gazed into the distance through a Myr Telescope. Myr Craftsmanship was renowned throughout the known world. The Dothraki riders were at the front, with their elderly and weak in the middle. These nomadic Dothraki hordes were called "khalasars."
Gendry's telescope took the form of a Myr Spyglass, bringing distant objects into sharp focus. Glass lenses fitted into either end, with a series of bronze tubes joined between them. The tubes nested cleverly inside one another, collapsing to the length of a dagger.
The Dothraki are different from nomads in the traditional sense, Gendry thought. Ordinarily, nomadic peoples were constrained by natural disasters and food shortages, making a richly nourishing diet difficult to obtain.
But perhaps the Dothraki Sea offered resources in such abundance that, after exterminating the Tall Men and occupying it, the Dothraki could raise tall, powerful Screaming Warriors.
The Dothraki screaming riders were practically unarmored warriors. Both men and women went bare-chested beneath painted leather vests, with horsehair leggings and bronze belts around their waists. Wealthier Dothraki might have belts made of silver or gold.
"At this pace, the Dothraki will attack Myr tomorrow at noon," Gendry told Prince Oberyn. Gendry wore black scale-and-plate armor, with a spiked warhammer and a recurve bow on his horse. His knights wore plate armor pitted and dented by battle, but it still gleamed in the morning sun.
"At that pace, they should! If they weren't bringing the whole khalasar, the Dothraki horsemen would probably arrive today." Prince Oberyn watched the dark mass of people in the distance. He had fought many battles in the Disputed Lands, but facing an entire khalasar remained a formidable challenge.
The Red Viper's Dornish knights dressed differently. Silk robes fluttered from their shoulders, and overlapping copper plates adorned their shirts, shining like thousands of bright new pennies when they rode. Dornish cavalry carried relatively light equipment, and their tactics differed from those of other regions.
Gendry and the Red Viper had each brought ten cavalrymen to scout the enemy before the Dothraki arrived. Even against an army of thousands, their fine Dornish horses and superior equipment gave them room to maneuver.
He had also stationed troops in ambush nearby, ensuring that the Dothraki would soon see enemies behind every bush.
Pay attention to the cavalry, study their formation, and find their weak points, Gendry thought. Accomplishing those things alone would give them a tactical advantage.
"According to my intelligence, this should be Khal Zhako's khalasar."
"Khal Zhako! I didn't expect that slippery bastard." The Red Viper relaxed a little. "They say he visits Qohor every three or four years, takes their gold, and then spares the city. It seems the Tyroshi offered too much temptation, and now Khal Zhako intends to try a new target."
"The strongest power in the Dothraki Sea now is Khal Drogo. Drogo commands its largest khalasar, with more than forty thousand warriors under him, undefeated in battle. Khal Zhako's khalasar has twenty or thirty thousand people at most, with perhaps six or seven thousand Screaming Warriors?"
"Concentrate our forces and crush one khalasar, and these horsemen won't dare cross the river again!" the Red Viper said as he rode. "Zhako isn't that strong."
"That's how Westerosi think, but the cheesemongers and butter merchants of the Free Cities don't see it that way," said Arrow Maker. He was perhaps one of the finest archers alive, and Gendry had brought him along as well.
"Actually, Commander-in-Chief, you don't have to bring me whenever you send out scouts. Your own archery is masterful now," Arrow Maker grumbled, though he still watched the situation ahead.
"It would be a shame not to let the Dothraki witness an old master's miraculous archery."
"Well, that's true enough," Arrow Maker said cheerfully. He had brought his yew bow as well as a recurve bow. On horseback, the recurve was easier to handle. His arrows were fitted with awl-like heads that even plate armor could not stop, much less these almost half-naked Dothraki.
"Then let the Dothraki get a taste of what we can do!" The Red Viper's eyes blazed.
"From what I've observed, the Dothraki have one strength and two weaknesses," Gendry said, studying their column.
"The Dothraki are skilled horsemen, have plenty of cavalry, and don't fear death. That's their strength. But they have no armor, and their siege tactics are extremely limited. Those are their two weaknesses."
"Indeed. Then let's use the tactics from the battle of Qohor," the Red Viper suggested. "As long as the Unsullied form up properly, Khal Zhako's handful of soldiers won't win."
Dothraki tactics were relatively simple. Their Screaming Warriors shot arrows and attacked, then collected arrows and valuables after the battle. The Jaqqa Rhan were charged with ending the suffering of the wounded. Armed with great axes, they moved among the bodies on the battlefield, harvesting the heads of the dead and dying.
"Unsullied? Qohor had three thousand genuine Unsullied. Where do we have that many? Ours are Free Folk, former slaves. They won't withstand even a few charges!" Arrow Maker frowned.
"We'll rely on Myr and have Grey Wolf establish the formation first. Once they withstand a few attacks, it'll be our turn!" Gendry said. The Unsullied formation was merely the iron shield; the cavalry would be the iron hammer that decided the war.
As they talked, a small scouting party of Dothraki Screaming Warriors had already crossed the river and charged toward them. Gendry could make out the distant Dothraki, tall men with bronze skin, tawny eyes, and black hair.
The Dothraki were rather surprised to see warriors from the Free Cities daring to watch their scouts from a distance. In the past, those cheesemongers had generally hidden away like turtles and obediently offered gifts whenever they encountered Dothraki.
Dozens of Dothraki Screaming Warriors charged on horseback, roaring as they drew their bows. They also carried arakhs.
Arrow Maker drew his longbow. A long arrow pierced a Dothraki's chest as smoothly as if it had passed through silk.
Whoosh! Gendry showed no mercy either. He drew and loosed, and a Dothraki warrior fell.
Gendry had not brought his dragonbone longbow, since a bow like that was far too unwieldy on horseback. Dragonbone bows were the strongest bows in the world. Their high iron content made dragonbone black. It was as tough as steel, yet lighter and more flexible. With a range far beyond that of ordinary wooden bows, dragonbone bows were exceedingly hard to obtain.
The Red Viper also drew his recurve bow. The Dothraki and Dornish especially favored these bows, which allowed them to unleash deadly showers of arrows from horseback rather than pick off targets one by one.
Gendry, the Red Viper, and Arrow Maker were all among the finest archers of their age. The Dothraki Screaming Warriors discovered that this small party would not be easy prey. They roared, displaying their superb horsemanship, horse and rider moving as one.
But the Wolf Pack knights and Dornish knights were no weaklings either. They were elite knights, with the added advantage of armor. Some Dothraki arrows struck their plate without causing harm. Under the same circumstances, a Dothraki struck by an arrow suffered a serious wound.
"I am the Archon of Myr!" Gendry shouted, his voice ringing like steel.
Almost all the Dothraki scouts who had rushed ahead fell. The survivors no longer had the advantage of numbers and dared not press the attack. They could only watch Gendry, the Red Viper, and their cavalry ride brazenly away.
Chapter 77: A speech before battle (please keep reading)
The news that the Dothraki Screaming Warriors were approaching hung over Myr like a dark cloud.
"The horsemen are coming!" The terrifying news spread through Myr. Since the Century of Blood, the Dothraki had been synonymous with destruction and slaughter.
This stemmed from Dothraki beliefs. They regarded the earth as their mother goddess and considered it sinful to break the soil with plows, shovels, or axes. Thus they burned fields, farms, and towns, returning the grasslands to wilderness.
During the Century of Blood after the Doom of Valyria, the Dothraki drove commoners from their huts and nobles from their estates, leaving nothing but grass and ruins from the forests of Qohor to the headwaters of the Sar Mell.
Four hundred years ago, the Dothraki advanced from the east toward the Free Cities, sacking and burning every town and city along the way, including the Kingdom of Sarnor, the Free City of Essaria, the Qartheen cities in the Red Waste, and the Ibbenese settlements in the Kingdom of the Ifequevron. They were finally stopped when Temmo and his khalasar of at least fifty thousand encountered the three thousand Unsullied warriors of Qohor.
"The Dothraki were bought by the Archon of Tyrosh and Myr's exiled magisters, who intend to restore the old order at the expense of the Myrmen's happiness." This news angered the Myrmen even more. The exiled magisters whom conservative citizens knew personally had ultimately betrayed the city.
With Qyburn's spies deliberately fanning the flames, every Myrman learned of the scandal.
These exiled magisters and restorationists had not merely fled Myr and incited civil unrest; they had deliberately lured the Dothraki to the city. Even the old citizens felt deeply wounded by these former nobles.
"Traitors!"
"Traitors!"
"Treason!" Frightened citizens of Myr left their homes to march in protest. They had no choice but to stand alongside the Free Folk they had once despised and preserve order before the war. Faced with violence, they needed a strong hand.
The Dothraki had come to exploit the chaos and sack Myr, and gold might not be enough to satisfy their appetite.
In Myr's Lace Square, the soaring White Tower stood behind the square. The White Tower Complex served as Myr's city hall, where the magisters had once held their meetings. The forest of glittering spearheads among the soldiers seemed to radiate a chill.
Soldiers of the Wolf Pack and the Free Army maintained order around the square. Knights clad in plate and mail, and Unsullied guards carrying shields and spears, gave the Myrmen considerable confidence. Mercenaries could not be trusted, but the Wolf Pack and the Free Army counted as true armies.
"Citizens of Myr, Free Folk, farmers, craftsmen, soldiers of the Wolf Pack, the Free Army, and our other forces! Even former magisters, nobles, and merchants willing to support me and the new order!" Gendry proclaimed loudly in the square. "Myr stands on the brink of destruction. The Dothraki intend to storm Myr, ravage our beautiful city, kill our loved ones, and plunder our homes. What should we do?"
Gendry stood before the vast crowd, the Commander-in-Chief's deep blue eyes hard as iron. Clad in heavy armor, he resembled a black storm. He could see their faces, Free Folk and citizens of Myr alike. Arrow Maker stood behind him, holding his dragonbone longbow.
The Red Viper glanced enviously at the dragonbone bow. Dragonbone bows were the finest in the world, with goldenheart bows second. The Dothraki and Dornish favored recurve bows because they could easily unleash deadly showers of arrows from horseback rather than target enemies one at a time.
"Kill the Dothraki!"
"Kill those traitors!"
The Free Folk shouted loudly. The liberated Free Folk hated slavery most of all, and the Dothraki, renowned for slaughter and brutality, also kept slaves. Under no circumstances could the Free Folk allow them to win.
Then Myr's old citizens joined the shouting, this time with genuine feeling. Though timid, they understood that Myr had truly reached a decisive moment. Destruction or survival: faced with violence, the Myrmen had to choose someone who could protect them.
The Commander-in-Chief was pleased with what he saw. As long as the horsemen besieged Myr, as long as they truly appeared, the exiled magisters and the Archon of Tyrosh would become targets of universal hatred. Most people in Myr were ordinary citizens; slave owners and the privileged were a minority, after all. Gendry needed to win those citizens over as well.
Defeating the Dothraki, winning Myr's loyalty, and displaying his strength would accomplish several aims at once.
"At this hour of life or death for Myr, you are the shield and sword of all Myrmen, Commander-in-Chief!" shouted the members of the Myr Roundtable. They included merchants in carpets, lace, screens, lenses, and paintings, as well as representatives of the Free Folk and craftsmen.
"I will accept this duty! We will crush the Dothraki butchers!"
"We will defeat the Dothraki horsemen! For Myr, for the Disputed Lands, for the countless free citizens!" Gendry brandished his warhammer.
"Victory!"
"Victory!" The soldiers raised spears and swords amid bright, ringing clashes. Each shout grew louder than the last, until their voices became a river, a river of steel.
Even Myrmen who had previously refused military service seemed swept up in this moment of life or death. There was a kind of magic in loyalty to their city and its people, in defending their homeland. Love of their country, love of Myr, and the thrill of protecting it stirred courage in every heart.
The Free Folk were willing to enlist, and Myr's citizens were willing to donate money. Some even volunteered to join the Myr City Watch and take their places on the walls to defend the city.
The Red Viper stood in a secluded corner. Perhaps this young man possessed a charm that could turn enemies into friends; before long, these Myrmen would be willing to die for him. Perhaps I really am old. Is it the young men's turn to shine in this world now?
Brown Ben spoke next. As commander of the Myr City Watch, he was one of the figures most familiar to the Myrmen.
"In view of the traitors' actions during the riots in Myr, and their payment to lure the Dothraki into attacking their mother city, they have abandoned Myr and even betrayed their country. In the name of Lord Gendry, Archon of Myr, the Disputed Lands, Tyrosh, the Narrow Sea, and the Stepstones, I hereby announce the list of traitors, strip them of their former honors, and confiscate their property."
Brown Ben spoke in a ringing voice. The exiled magisters, merchants, and nobles on the list would be struck from Myr's rolls and deprived of all wealth and honors.
"Kill the traitors!"
"Kill the traitors! Kill the Dothraki!" The list of traitors was approved without question. It would be posted in Myr's squares, streets, and alleys, stripping the exiles of all wealth and reputation.
"Move out!" Gendry gave the order. Grey Wolf led the Free Army soldiers out, while the other troops silently took their places on the walls. Some citizens of Myr eagerly joined the fighting as well.
The army formed ranks beneath a thousand fluttering banners. Before the Dothraki arrived, Grey Wolf would lead the Free Army and Wolf Pack Soldiers into formation. They were a kind of bait.
"Knights!" The steel-armored knights Gendry envisioned would deliver the decisive blow in this war. The Unsullied formation was too rigid, and most of these men were not even genuine Unsullied.
Chapter 78: A battle with no retreat (please keep reading)
As the sky gradually brightened, the Grey-and-White Wolf Pack Banner flew high. From Myr's walls, Gendry, the Red Viper, Brown Ben, Qyburn, and Arrow Maker could see the sea of Dothraki Screaming Warriors more clearly. The Dothraki would launch their attack in the morning.
Out on Myr Bay, the tall ships commanded by Moloz still patrolled the waters. The Dothraki feared the sea, and these warships carried soldiers and archers.
"We still need to rely on strong walls, defend, and counterattack. After all, Dothraki tactics are simple, and western Essos has almost no natural defenses." Gendry had devised multiple layers of defense for Myr: an Unsullied shield formation outside the city, longbowmen on the walls, trebuchets inside the gates, and a fleet patrolling offshore.
Dothraki tactics followed a fixed pattern. When a khalasar moved, scouts always rode ahead of the main column to watch for prey and signs of enemies, while outriders protected the flanks. After battle, the "Jaqqa Rhan," wielding great axes, harvested countless heads from the dead and dying. Little girls pulled arrows from corpses and placed them in baskets to be used again.
The homes around Myr's gates had been dismantled and moved inside the city. Now the infantry stood immovable in formation directly before the western gate. The Unsullied at their head struck their shields with their spears, producing a powerful metallic rhythm.
Boom! Boom! Wearing spiked helmets and carrying spears and shields, the Unsullied led the soldiers in their chants. Gendry had equipped them with sturdier, more practical armor, a task well within the abilities of Myr's craftsmen.
But there were only a few dozen Unsullied. Behind Grey Wolf stood the Wolf Pack Soldiers and the Free Army troops he had trained. Farther back, Wolf Pack and Free Army infantry in plate and mail readied their weapons and shields, solemn and iron-faced. Though the soldiers had formed ranks, they had neither drunk the wine of courage nor endured brutal training. They could not withstand dozens of Dothraki charges.
"Maiden of the Spear! Bless us, and grant victory to our commander, the Liberator," Grey Wolf prayed.
West of Myr Bay, the Dothraki horses' iron-shod hooves had torn up the earth. Rye and lentils were trampled into the mud as the Dothraki warriors roared their cries.
The Dothraki cavalry moved like a black cloud. They all wore long braids, with little bells tied into them that chimed softly as they rode.
"Zhako is here!" Gendry spotted Khal Zhako, a middle-aged khal riding a black stallion, around forty years old. Zhako had bronze skin, black eyes, and black hair. He was a tall man with a finely proportioned physique.
Zhako wore a long beard, and his hair was braided long enough to reach his thighs, with small golden bells tied into it. Time had left its marks, however. There were wrinkles on his face and gray strands in his hair.
"There are still around seven thousand Screaming Warriors!" the Red Viper said.
"Looks to me like Zhako has brought everything he owns!" Gendry said. The Dothraki were always greedy. Having accepted the Tyroshi gifts and agreed to come, they were certain to demand more prey.
Gendry had also gathered all his cavalry: knights of the Wolf Pack, the Long Spear Company, and the Free Army, along with the hundred Dornish light cavalry brought by the Red Viper. The Second Sons were mounted fighters too, but their riders were far too slippery to be suited to a direct, decisive battle alongside the Myrmen.
"Then let's see who kills this barbarian from the Dothraki Sea first." The Red Viper smiled. His attendant carried a spear with a sinister-looking leaf-shaped head. "This spear is eight feet long. Its shaft is ash, smooth, thick, and heavy, with the final two feet made of steel. I originally prepared it for another brute."
"The Mountain." Gendry was certain of the Red Viper's intentions. The Mountain stood nearly eight feet tall and weighed thirty stone, all muscle. He could wield a two-handed greatsword in one hand and cleave a man in half with a single blow. His armor was so heavy that no one else could wear it, or even move it.
Before you continue