Over the past week, as more wounded were sent back and news of the routed reinforcements spread, the soldiers of the Ring had lost all will to fight.
When they saw the vast enemy reinforcements arrive, morale plummeted to freezing point.
The final blow—the straw that broke the camel's back—was seeing their own liege lord, Earl Quentyn, announce his surrender beneath the walls.
By the time Arthur entered Ring, Gerold had already led fifty leather-armored Starfall infantrymen to secure the castle. They herded everyone into the central courtyard.
Dew still clung to the chainmail of these soldiers, but the longswords in their hands were dry and sharp.
On the battlements, over thirty archers were in position, arrows nocked, eyes scanning vigilantly below.
From the distance came the crashing sounds of doors being kicked open as soldiers searched the buildings room by room.
"Earl Quentyn," Arthur turned to the Earl following behind him.
"As agreed, I will restrain my men from pillaging the villages or burning your houses and fields.
"While I occupy this castle, you and your family will be treated as noble prisoners. You may reside in your original chambers, and I will ensure no harm comes to you."
Earl Quentyn's face was as grey as a man long sick. He nodded mechanically. "My Lord, thank you for your mercy."
He dragged his heavy feet toward his wife and daughters, who were being guarded in the courtyard. The chains on his wrists rattled with each step.
His wife, Lady Ayana, held their two daughters tightly. The girls buried their faces in their mother's skirts, their shoulders shaking with sobs.
Gerold walked over, the bronze studs on his leather armor glinting in the sunlight. "What do we do with these prisoners?" He pointed to the three hundred people gathered in the yard.
"Sort them," Arthur said. "Those willing to stay and work, register them. Those unwilling..."
He scanned the fearful faces. "Release them. We do not kill those who surrender."
These unarmed captives, without horses or weapons, and with their lord in his hands, posed no threat.
"My Lord." Penrose trotted up to catch Arthur, regret written all over his young face.
"Those siege engines we built didn't get used at all. All that preparation for nothing."
He had supervised the construction of most of the engines and had hoped to see them in action. It felt like wasted effort.
Arthur stepped into the Great Hall. Sunlight filtered through the stained glass, casting dappled shadows on the carpet.
He ran his hand over a tapestry, feeling the rough texture under his fingertips. "I'm glad they weren't used."
Siege warfare, especially storming a castle, was a meat grinder in any era. For the attacker, it was always a grueling affair. Taking Ring without bloodshed was a blessing from the Seven.
Arthur's footsteps echoed in the hall.
Occupying Ring was significant. If Derring Keep was their retreat, Ring was their bridgehead for attacking the Reach.
Arthur rubbed the golden ring carving on the armrest of the high seat—the sigil of House Roxton.
"Call the Maester," Arthur shouted to the guards at the door.
A moment later, Maester Hicks trotted in, the hem of his robes dusty.
"Bring me the inventory of the castle's supplies and the letters received recently," Arthur ordered curtly.
The Maester bowed hurriedly. "I will fetch them at once."
"Jimmy, go with the Maester," Arthur said. "Bring the letters here. Once you have the inventory list, take the Maester and start verifying the supplies in the castle."
Ser Bard found a seat and asked, "Arthur, what is the plan now?"
"Map," Arthur said.
Zack unslung a leather tube from his back, took out a map, and spread it on the long table on the dais.
Arthur's finger traced the area west of Ring. It was a vast expanse of plains and forests divided by a winding river. Three small words marked the river on the map: Honeywine.
The lands around the Honeywine belonged to a single house and its vassals—House Hightower, rulers of Oldtown, the largest city in Westeros.
Rumor had it that House Hightower was as wealthy as House Lannister. They could field three times as many swords as any other bannerman of Highgarden, and with the wealth of Oldtown, they could hire even more.
The current Lord of Oldtown, Leyton Hightower, had many children, allowing the Hightowers to intermarry with many major houses of the Reach, including Tyrell, Rowan, Florent, Redwyne, and Fossoway. Their roots ran deep, and their influence was immense.
Ser Bard watched Arthur's focused expression, his shoulders tensing under his armor. "Arthur, House Hightower is powerful. Attacking Oldtown rashly would be unwise."
"Relax, Ser Bard. I'm not a fool," Arthur rolled his eyes.
"Oldtown is too massive. Even if I were to attack it, I would do so as I did with the Ring—focusing on harassment. I'd strike the lands and castles bordering the Ring first, slowly eating away at them."
His gaze roamed the map, finally resting on the markers of a few small castles.
Ser Bard breathed a sigh of relief. He feared Arthur might have become arrogant after the smooth capture of Ring.
Arthur withdrew his gaze from the map. "Besides, now that we've taken Ring, it's a slap in the face to their liege lords at Highgarden. The Tyrells won't let this slide."
"I want to see their reaction before making my next move. We aren't far from the Red Mountains here. If they send a massive army and the disparity in strength is too great, we can retreat calmly with our spoils."
Facing the behemoth that was the Reach, Arthur was cautious with every step. Ensuring his retreat route while bleeding the Reachmen as much as possible—to show them the consequences of provoking Starfall—was the goal.
Before long, Maester Hicks returned with the letters Arthur had requested, along with several scrolls of parchment tucked in his robe pocket.
Arthur quickly flipped through the letters. Most were reports from Highgarden and Roxton's vassals on various matters.
One letter from Highgarden, dated three days ago, stated that orders had been issued for Oldtown and Horn Hill to mobilize levies to reinforce Ring.
Arthur surmised that his capture of Earl Quentyn and occupation of Derring Keep had finally drawn Highgarden's serious attention.
Arthur had already received news of the mobilization at Horn Hill from Ser Carlo at Blackmont. With the diversionary threat from Blackmont, he estimated Randyll Tarly wouldn't rashly leave his territory to aid the Ring.
As for Oldtown, that was a threat worth taking seriously.
After all, Duke Mace Tyrell's wife was a Hightower. And with Ring occupied, Oldtown was the most threatened major city.
Over the next few days, Arthur dispatched scouts and spies to closely monitor movements from Oldtown to the west and Horn Hill to the north.
At the same time, he ordered Ser Bard to reorganize the defenses of Ring, repair the fortifications, and gradually transfer the spoils of war back to Derring Keep.