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#213 - Chapter 23: The Battle of King's Landing (Part 4)

Davos: "You don't understand the nobility. They're atoning for their sins. It won't be easy to forget that they sided with Renly before."

Salladhor: "Politics makes hearts dirty. You've changed, Davos. When do you plan to attack the Iron Gate?"

Davos: "I've been away from King's Landing for many years. Of course, I'll visit the old places when I return. And bring some friends along for a visit."

Salladhor: "Hmm, I understand. Good luck!"

That day, besides the naval battle and the exchange of catapult fire, there was no other contact. Both sides needed time to prepare. Tyrion needed more time to perfect the capital's defenses, waiting for reinforcements that might never arrive.

Stannis also needed time. His army had been at sea for several days and needed to rest and recover before engaging in battle. They all knew that tomorrow would be the most critical day, when the cruelty of war would be revealed to everyone.

Near Saltpans, in the same burnt village, three figures cautiously appeared. It was Arya and her two companions. They confirmed that no one was left. The slaughter had occurred nearly a month ago, and the bodies had been cleared away.

Arya expertly made her way to the farmhouse, now a ruin. Fortunately, the well was still intact. With her friends' help, the petite Arya squeezed into the well and retrieved what she had thrown in: the short sword given to her by Jaqen H'ghar and the bag of coins. With these, their journey would be easier.

Gendry asked, "Arya, where do we go now?"

Arya: "I don't know! My home has been taken over, and I don't know which lords to trust. I heard my brother is fighting in the Westerlands. I want to go to Riverrun in the Riverlands to find my grandfather. What about you? Will you come with me?"

Gendry: "My master sent me to the Night's Watch. I have no other family now. I have nowhere to go but with you."

Hot Pie: "Arya, I never knew you were a noble lady. If I come with you, can I manage the kitchens in the future?"

Arya said, "The kitchens of my castle will be yours."

In the camp by the Red Fork, Robb rose naked from his bed, searching for linen to treat his bleeding wound. A pair of delicate white hands took the cloth and carefully applied ointment to his wound. "Let me do it. After all, I'm a professional," said a dark-haired girl helping him.

"I'm sorry, am I useless? Can't I do anything?" A chestnut-haired girl stood by, at a loss.

Robb smiled brightly, put his arm around her waist, and kissed her on the cheek. "It's my fault. Why are you sad?" Feeling he was favoring one over the other, he put his arm around the dark-haired girl and kissed her too.

Robb loved listening to Liu Yuan's war stories as a child. After leading troops himself, he found many of the strategies quite practical. For example, he besieged the Crag, drawing out the Lannisterport army, and then used the Northmen's superior field tactics to destroy them. What was that called again? Oh, right, 'besiege the point to strike the reinforcements'.

After the reinforcements were eliminated, Gawen Westerling, the Earl of the Crag, surrendered the city. The only accident was that Robb was hit in the arm by a stray arrow during the battle. Gawen's daughter, Jeyne Westerling, cared for him almost without pause. And then there was Talisa, the Volantene nurse. Perhaps because of the competition, the relationship between the three became very delicate, and the two girls became more proactive.

The best cure for war is liquor and women. Betrayed by his brother, with his ancestral home of Winterfell occupied, and then stabbed in the back by his mother who released the most important prisoner, Robb was in turmoil. The dam burst, and once he had tasted it, Robb naturally couldn't restrain himself any longer. When a man's skin thickens, his bottom line becomes unimportant. In less than half a month, he was sharing his bed with both of them.

Suddenly, Talisa asked, "Darling, are you really going to marry a Frey girl?"

Robb was silent. "I'm sorry, I don't want to lie to you. It's my responsibility, my duty. A king should be true to his word. I can't let my lords down. But don't worry. My feelings for you are real. Please believe me, give me some time, and I will sort things out and give our children a proper status."

Talisa kissed him, stopping him from saying anything more. Jeyne also hugged him from behind. The tent was soon filled with sounds that made one blush.

The soldiers guarding outside rolled their eyes. The young King was having fun inside while they were freezing in the cold wind. No, that won't do, they had to find a prostitute to let off some steam.

At around ten in the morning, the drums sounded: "Boom, boom, boom..." The soldiers, who had been preparing since morning, began to arm themselves. They had eaten to maintain their strength and had been doing some light exercises, only putting on their armor and checking their weapons at the last moment. Only when the officers called them did they line up and enter the starting positions.

On the flagship Fury, Imry Florent was radiant. This was his moment of glory, his stage. This battle would be recorded in history, and his name would be remembered by the world.

"Attack!" With a wave of his hand, the fleet moved out. Ten lines of battle launched an attack simultaneously, stretching from the Red Keep to the King's Gate, a two-kilometer-long shoreline that would become the battlefield. The first wave alone involved over ten thousand people. The river crossing was not the chaotic rush one might imagine. Instead, warships with powerful ranged weapons were positioned in front to suppress the defenders on the walls, while bulky merchant ships and smaller vessels were used to transport the soldiers. Overcrowding would be disastrous for the armored soldiers, who would have no chance of being rescued if they fell into the water.

Ballistae and small catapults on the warships sent streaks of fire toward the city walls. Of course, the defenders of King's Landing did not just watch. They fought back fiercely, with crossbowmen shooting at the enemy. The closest point on the riverbank was only about 50 yards from the walls, and the farthest was no more than 110 yards, well within bowshot range.

Tyrion was not a qualified general; he could only try his best not to make mistakes. He evenly distributed the main force along the city walls. His approach was not wrong. Stannis's army attacked from ten points simultaneously. If the enemy broke through at any one point and climbed the walls, their numerical advantage would quickly allow them to widen the gap, and more and more enemies would pour into the city.