"Bang!" Gendry had caught that flashing instant, and it was enough. His first hammer blow struck Khal Zhako's shoulder, crushing muscle and bone. The khal's face instantly flushed with rage.
The khal's sword arm slowed with it.
"And a second blow!" Gendry's hammer whipped back and smashed into Khal Zhako's head. Zhako's skull burst like a watermelon, leaving a gaping hole.
Brain matter, blood, and bone fragments sprayed out together. Khal Zhako swayed and fell to the ground like a dead eel.
"The khal is dead!"
"The khal is dead!" Khal Zhako's Bloodriders looked as though their eyes were filled with blood as they tried to rush forward to avenge him. But their haste gave Long Spear and Gillo Reha an opening, and the two seized their chance to kill both Bloodriders.
Gillo blocked a Bloodrider's curved sword and killed him with a single stroke. Long Spear's throwing spear struck down the other as he tried to avenge his khal upon Gendry.
Long Spear dismounted, cut off Khal Zhako's head, and presented it to Gendry. The head was tied behind Gendry's horse.
Khal Zhako's death set off a chain reaction across the battlefield. The Dothraki warriors struggling in the melee could endure no more and began to fall apart. Their morale collapsed in an instant, the gradual unraveling becoming a landslide.
Khal Zhako's Bloodriders would choose to live and die with him, but his kos, the Little Horse Khals who led the divisions of his Khalasar, intended to gather their tribes and flee for their lives.
The war drums sounded again, joined by horns whose notes seemed almost joyful.
Cheers rose from Myr's walls. One khal had fallen, and another king had risen. The Myrmen rejoiced as the Dothraki met the same fate they had suffered beneath Qohor's walls.
Gendry spurred his horse into a furious pursuit, and the battle line began to advance.
Just then, the two forces Gendry had stationed in ambush began attacking the fleeing Dothraki.
The Red Viper's men struck first, bursting out without warning. He rode a coal-black horse with a fiery red mane and tail. Overlapping copper plates covered his light armor, gleaming like a thousand bright suns as he galloped.
The Red Viper raised his Blackwood Long Spear. A round shield hung behind him, bearing House Martell's sigil of a golden spear piercing the sun.
Dorne's light cavalry charged out as well. Their armor was lighter than that of heavy cavalry, but certainly better than the Dothraki's. They slaughtered isolated Dothraki Screaming Warriors with practiced ease. After all, fighting with longbows and throwing spears was a familiar tactic to the Dornish.
"Kill them! Kill the Dothraki!" Brown Ben led the Second Sons' knights out farther away, intercepting small bands of fleeing warriors. Rather than attack the strongest fighters, however, they rode straight for the vulnerable women and children left behind in the Khalasar, harrying them.
With the khal's death, a Khalasar fell apart.
"Long live Myr!"
"Long live Commander-in-Chief Gendry!"
"Long live the Commander-in-Chief!" the soldiers cheered fervently. Honor won in battle was precious beyond measure.
Chapter 81: The Spoils of Victory
The knights of the Wolf Pack, the Long Spear Company, and the Free Army pursued the Dothraki Horsemen. With the Red Viper and the Second Sons charging from ambush as well, Khal Zhako's entire Khalasar collapsed.
The standard-bearers raced at the front, carrying the Grey-and-White Wolf Pack Banner as though they were the proudest men alive.
Gendry galloped across the vast plains too. The once-arrogant Dothraki now fled in panic. With his heavy hammer in hand and Khal Zhako dead, scarcely anyone dared face him. The occasional unlucky man he encountered was hammered to death.
Gendry grew ever more comfortable wielding his warhammer, his movements flowing smoothly. With sufficient speed and strength, a blunt weapon's destructive power was unmatched under equal conditions.
"The khal is dead!" "The khal is dead!" Such cries echoed across the battlefield. The Dothraki were already in utter disarray.
On Myr's walls, the bolder citizens who had watched Khal Zhako die began cheering as well. Their joy seemed contagious, spreading throughout the city until all of Myr rang with noise.
Though Khal Zhako had been somewhat old, he was still the finest warrior in the entire Khalasar. His death on the battlefield that day dealt the Dothraki a tremendous blow.
By Dothraki custom, a khal's Bloodriders would die with him, and Khal Zhako's two Bloodriders had indeed fallen in battle. His kos had no such concerns. After his death, they had already taken their own Khas and fled.
The haze of battle slowly began to clear. With Khal Zhako and his son dead, and his kos fleeing with part of the Khalasar, the spoils left behind were still plentiful. Brown Ben was the first to return with the Second Sons' knights, like a hand drawing back in.
The captured Dothraki Screaming Warriors came before Gendry first, cutting off their black braids one after another. The dark braids formed a small mound, a testament to the victor's glory.
Gendry rode past the Dothraki and raised his warhammer. The Screaming Warriors bowed their heads.
The cavalry surrounding Gendry and the Dothraki Screaming Warriors began to cheer, whether they belonged to the Wolf Pack, the Free Army, the Long Spear Company, or the Second Sons. The Unsullied beat their shields, while the other soldiers blew horns and waved their weapons.
Nothing tasted sweeter than victory. Those who lived near the Disputed Lands, in particular, harbored deep resentment toward the Dothraki.
Gendry looked at the once-defiant Dothraki. Their warriors were generally tall, with bronze skin, tawny eyes, and black hair. Now every face was downcast.
Brown Ben translated his words. With Dothraki blood himself, he spoke their language fluently.
"Commander-in-Chief Gendry is the protector of Myr! Your kos have left with their Khas, and your khal has been killed! Will you submit to Commander-in-Chief Gendry or return to the Dothraki Sea?" Brown Ben shouted.
"Khal!"
"Khal!"
"The khal who wields a warhammer!" the Dothraki Screaming Warriors shouted. Given the choice between submitting and returning to the Dothraki Sea, almost all chose surrender.
The Dothraki worshipped strength and traveled in Khalasars. If they returned to the Dothraki Sea, another Khalasar might attack them and enslave them. Better to serve a new khal.
Gendry studied these Dothraki Screaming Warriors. Though the Horsemen had plenty of vile habits and were ill-suited to battlefields where Heavy Knights charged head-on, properly employed, they would still make a decent army.
The Horsemen's roars shook heaven and earth, as though bearing witness to the birth of a new king. Seeing this from farther away, the Red Viper hurriedly rode back.
"I bring you a gift!" said Oberyn, the Red Viper. He had brought back a Dothraki corpse with a spear wound through its chest, a gruesome death. "This is Khal Zhako's son. Once his father died, he became the new khal. He wanted to return for revenge, but I killed him!"
"Poor fellow!" Gendry looked at the corpse the Red Viper dropped and saw that the young Dothraki's face was still rather boyish. But the Dothraki lived amid bloodshed and violence, their khals constantly killing one another.
There had been Temmo, the khal who died beneath Qohor's walls. Temmo had clashed with Khal Dahako, known as the "Great Dragon of the North," when Dahako was already old. Temmo's Khalasar defeated him, and after taking him captive, cut off his hands, feet, and genitals and roasted them before his eyes. They burned his wife and children alive before burning him too.
I'll use the heads of two generations of khals to give the Tyroshi something to fear! Gendry thought as he looked at Khal Zhako's son's corpse. The khals' bodies could intimidate not only the Myrmen, but also the Archon of Tyrosh hiding in the Black City.
"There were a few unexpected gains as well," the Red Viper said. He had also brought back a force of about two hundred Dothraki Unsullied. They had the Dothraki's typical bronze skin and black, almond-shaped eyes, but no facial hair. They wore the Unsullied's spiked bronze helmets.
Behind the Dornish, a group of Dothraki Unsullied knelt before Gendry. With the Red Viper and Brown Ben beside him, Gendry understood what they meant.
These Dothraki Unsullied had been captured in wars between khals and sold to Slaver's Bay. The Qohorik had given this group to Khal Zhako to curry favor with him.
The Dothraki Screaming Warriors despised eunuchs and maimed men. Even with these Unsullied available, they had merely used them to guard the Khalasar rather than deploy them in battle. When the Khalasar collapsed, the directionless Unsullied became an unexpected prize for Gendry.
Gendry helped the Unsullied's leader to his feet. Grey Wolf, the leader of Gendry's Unsullied, stepped forward and embraced these unfortunate Dothraki Unsullied. With some reassurance, these unfree men would become his warriors too.
"Thank you for your help, Prince."
"A trifling contribution. The decisive factor was your knights defeating the khal's army, Commander-in-Chief." The Red Viper took the opportunity to be modest. He needed Gendry's help and admired such a brave man as well.
"Count the Horsemen we've captured. Besides the Screaming Warriors, there should be elderly people, women, and children."
"Keep a close watch on these Dothraki. I don't like them killing at will or harassing women!" Gendry gave Brown Ben these two orders, chiefly because the Horsemen truly had many vile habits.
"Yes!" Brown Ben replied.
With most of the spoils already secured, Gendry, Brown Ben, and the Red Viper led the soldiers in clearing the battlefield more quickly.
Chapter 82: Looking North
"Enough, Davos! I don't want to hear these dispiriting words!" Thick-browed and blue-eyed, Lord Stannis still wore a close-fitting leather vest and brown coarse-wool trousers as he watched Ser Davos report to him at the map table.
Stannis had fled King's Landing and had no intention of returning. He believed House Lannister had poisoned Jon Arryn, and Lady Lysa's desperate flight only deepened his suspicions. House Lannister held great power in King's Landing, and Stannis had grown somewhat paranoid.
"I know asking you to bend when necessary is as difficult as making the sea flow backward. Without that temper, you wouldn't be Lord Stannis. But we have few friends at present," Ser Davos urged.
Ser Davos understood Stannis's situation better than anyone. He was isolated and without support. Storm's End belonged to Renly, King's Landing was largely under Lannister control, and Jon Arryn's widow was an unstable woman. Apart from those across the Narrow Sea, Stannis had scarcely any allies.
"You make a poor envoy, Ser Davos. I sent you across the Narrow Sea, to Myr, Tyrosh, and Lys, to find possible friends. Yet you tell me those pirate friends won't send troops for me either. The weak ones have already pledged themselves to my bastard nephew, and the bold ones only dare hide behind the Black Ship, living at another's mercy." Stannis spoke angrily. His mouth seemed forged from an iron blade, made for frowns, anger, and stern pronouncements.
"My friends certainly loved gold before-the Myrman Moloz, Salladhor Saan of Lys, and those sellswords. But they have no reason to die for it, especially now that they've found a more powerful patron!" Ser Davos sighed. "With this new king's rise, finding friends has become difficult. What I mean is, perhaps we should cooperate with him."
"I would rather you truly recruited a sellsword king who loved nothing but gold. But that bastard is not one. He has my brother's blood and the exiled Targaryen orphan girl. He doesn't lack gold, only a crown. Once bastards gain strength, money, and power, they wait for their chance to overthrow the new order, just like that traitor Daemon Blackfyre."
"You are quite right, but at present we truly have few friends. Those fine fleets and Screaming Warriors all serve Gendry. Even if he won't help us, we cannot let him ally with someone else. Otherwise, given the number of his ships, we would be trapped in Blackwater Bay and on Dragonstone."
"Dragonstone and a few rocks in the Narrow Sea. That is my domain. I have my good brother to thank." Stannis spoke with bitter self-mockery. "I have lords beneath me too, but precious few. It seems I have no choice. I've never fought a war this difficult."
"My lord, our most troublesome enemy at present is still House Lannister. If we could find support... If you had seen those armies, those sellswords, those beautiful warships, the fierce Wolf Pack knights, and the Dothraki Screaming Warriors. If we could have some of their help..."
"Some things cannot be compromised," Stannis said.
"We would only be making an alliance!" Davos said after a moment's thought.
"An alliance with my former enemies? Spare me. I doubt Viserys and that girl have forgotten who drove them off this wretched island."
"In truth, there is a swift solution to this entire crisis. Resist House Lannister in the west and Robert's bastard in the east." Stannis sighed.
Ser Davos knew what Lord Stannis meant. If King Robert changed his mind and appointed Stannis Hand of the King, their present difficulties would be far smaller. Sadly, there was no such possibility. Still, Stannis's lament gave Davos a new idea.
"In that case, might we contact Lord Stark?" Ser Davos suggested. "Judging by the past, Lord Eddard has always disliked House Lannister, and he is a fair, rigid man. Besides, his wife and Lord Jon's wife are sisters, both of House Tully."
"Eddard Stark?" Stannis paused. "Robert often says he and Eddard are as close as brothers. I believe it. As for me, I've never felt that closeness. Still, compared with Renly and that bastard Gendry, Eddard is not so loathsome."
"Leave me, Ser Davos! Let me think for a while," Stannis said. The predicament Ser Davos had described was the most frightening possible outcome: House Lannister on land, and Myr's Wolf Pack Fleet at sea.
"Yes, Lord Stannis!" Ser Davos nodded. He was pondering one thing: an alliance would be hard to agree to, but even if they formed one, they had little capital or leverage to offer.
"One more thing! Watch House Velaryon and House Celtigar. I don't entirely trust them," Stannis specifically warned before Ser Davos left.
Those two houses had once been vassals of House Targaryen. Stannis now had no choice but to question their loyalty.
If House Targaryen's black-and-red banners appeared again, Stannis felt that the situation around King's Landing would be turned utterly upside down.
The North, Winterfell, the Godswood.
Catelyn found Eddard Stark cleaning Ice and relayed the letter's contents to her husband.
The letter had come from King's Landing, from King Robert.
"Lord Jon is gone!" Catelyn said.
Eddard's expression grew graver, just as Catelyn had expected. They had been as close as father and son. When the Mad King demanded that Lord Jon surrender his two wards to be killed, Jon had raised his banners in rebellion, living up to his house's words, "As High as Honor."
"The letter says he went very suddenly. Though Lord Jon had always been healthy, he was certainly very old. Lysa and the child are well. They have already returned to the Eyrie."
"Gods!" Eddard reflected. News this momentous was enough to throw his thoughts into turmoil.
"There's something else!" Catelyn continued. "King Robert is coming. The letter says he wants to discuss affairs of state with you."
"We haven't seen each other in years! Five years!" Some life returned to Eddard's face, sweeping away its gloom. "How many people will there be?"
"About a hundred knights, along with their attendants. A great many Free Mercenaries too, and half the court. The queen and his children are all coming. Wherever the king is, there is the court."
"That's good. We'll have more time to prepare!" Eddard said. "With so many people, they won't travel quickly."
"The queen's brother is in the party too!"
Eddard's face darkened. He had never liked House Lannister. They had cautiously joined his side only once victory was assured, and he had never forgiven them.
"Have you heard about that matter? The one concerning Robert across the Narrow Sea?" Catelyn asked hesitantly.
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