Gendry's golden army advanced along the great river, passing rich farms, fields, and open country.
Three Dragons soared high in the sky, their roars like thunderclaps.
Autumn had already arrived, yet The Reach in the south still seemed peaceful.
The muddy waters of the Mander glittered in the sunlight. It was one of the mother rivers of The Reach.
"The Reach truly deserves its name as the granary," Gendry remarked, looking out over the land. Supplies were plentiful, and the fields stretched flat and fertile in every direction.
From a military perspective, however, there was no strong ground to defend.
"Your Grace, The Reach is the greenest of all. If the Seven Kingdoms face a long winter, The Reach will contribute no small share," Lord Randyll Tarly said. "But now the Ironborn are running wild, and the people of The Reach are in a panic."
Randyll was worried as well. His own castle was not far from Highgarden or Oldtown.
"A good war can preserve peace for decades. I hope this one gives us centuries, even millennia."
Gendry urged his horse forward. He meant to kill until the heavens themselves turned cold, to break the Ironborn's rebellious nature once and for all.
If he could also seize House Hightower's Oldtown treasury and the Citadel's books along the way, that would be a double blessing.
Randyll froze for a moment, then found himself stirred by Gendry's bearing.
A knight should be like this: bold, easy, and unmatched in valor.
"With such an elite army, if we meet them head-on..." Thinking of the Westerosi dream team Gendry had brought with him, Randyll could not help gaining more confidence.
Gendry had brought elites, and The Reach had no shortage of infantry to support them.
The Storm's army held all kinds of hardened troops: gold-cloaked guard knights, veterans from parts of the Riverlands and the Crownlands, especially men from the main lands of Crackclaw Point, foreign Unsullied, and more.
There were the knights of the Vale: House Royce's pebble rune banner, House Corbray's raven-heart banner, House Redfort's red castle banner, House Hardyng's quartered banner, and others.
There were also the knights of the Stormlands: House Tarth's quartered sigil of roses and azure, House Caron's nightingale banner, House Penrose's quill banner, and Lord Estermont's sea turtle banner, a green sea turtle floating on a green ocean.
The soldiers crossed an ancient stone arch bridge, the bridge properly known as Bitterbridge.
Bitterbridge was the vital point where the Roseroad crossed the Mander.
House Caswell's castle was not large, built of stone and timber.
Its towers were not especially tall, but because the land around them was flat and open, they looked much higher than they truly were.
The envoys sent by House Tyrell and House Redwyne were already waiting there: Ser Garlan Tyrell in a green robe, and Ser Hobber Redwyne in a blue-purple robe.
Highgarden, Oldtown, and the Arbor, in the face of Crow's Eye's magical methods, the people of The Reach had truly lost their nerve. Only magic could stop magic, and that meant Dragons.
Garlan looked at Gendry. It had been some time since they last met, and the King's strength had grown even more unfathomable.
Not only had the Dragons reached roughly the size of warhorses, but the King had also obtained Just Maid, the blade of Morning's Galladon. All across the Seven Kingdoms, people praised Gendry as a knight of legend, a true knight.
"Your Grace, Your Grace." Garlan knelt. "It is my honor to wait here for you both. I am Highgarden's messenger, bearing greetings from my brother Willas and my grandmother, Lady Olenna. In addition, I have brought part of the army's provisions, along with cattle and sheep to feed the Dragons."
Ser Hobber quickly knelt as well. "Your Grace, Your Grace. I am the messenger from the Arbor, bearing greetings from my father, Lord Paxter."
Hobber's looks were plain, with orange hair and a square face covered in freckles.
Lord Randyll Tarly felt disgust rise in him as he looked at that ugly face. The Redwyne twins had bullied his son Samwell and damaged relations between the two families.
"Rise, both of you," Gendry said.
"You are both very welcome, Ser Garlan, Ser Hobber," Daenerys also said.
Gendry looked at Hobber. This was probably the insurance Paxter had sent. If the war went badly, at least one son would remain outside it.
Oldtown, Highgarden, and the Arbor were all close kin. The ties between the Arbor and Oldtown went especially far back, unlike the Tyrells, who were merely steward upstarts.
"And where is House Hightower's envoy?" Gendry asked.
Garlan answered stiffly, "Ser Gunthor was captured in the battle at the docks. The Oldtown envoy is currently on the road to Highgarden. The petitioning party of Oldtown merchants and bankers has already arrived."
"The lord of the High Tower certainly puts on airs..." Anguy muttered.
Garlan immediately apologized. "This happened suddenly, and House Hightower has suffered a great misfortune. Your Grace will see their envoys at Highgarden."
Gendry raised a hand, stopping the restless nobles under him. There would be time enough once they reached Highgarden.
The more foolishly House Hightower behaved, the easier it would be to squeeze gold from them later. In this war, he would cripple both House Hightower and the Ironborn.
Even an army marching a thousand miles for a righteous cause still needed to eat. If Gendry had judged correctly, House Hightower would leave him exactly such a target.
Ser Barristan frowned. "Oldtown suffered such a great disaster and lost a son besides, yet Lord Leyton still has not come down from the tower? Is Ser Baelor still in charge?"
"For now, it is still Ser Baelor," Garlan replied.
Everyone found it baffling. Was something wrong with Leyton's head?
"How are the catapults coming along?" Gendry asked.
Gendry estimated that he would not arrive in time to find Oldtown whole. Once Oldtown was broken and dragged into the sea, those things would be used to smash Kraken.
"The catapults, ballistae, and battering rams are all being built as quickly as possible. By the time we reach Oldtown, they can be guaranteed ready for use," Garlan replied.
"Your Grace, are we using those to rescue Oldtown?" Ser Hobber asked in confusion.
"War shifts like fire. We adapt as it changes." Gendry had no patience to explain too much to a fool.
Garlan roughly understood. Gendry had no intention of entering Oldtown to defend the city, and he did not want to fight at sea either. Instead, he meant to wage a field battle and a siege, using ruined Oldtown itself as the battlefield.
"Set up camp first. We still have follow-up troops coming."
"Follow-up troops?" Garlan asked, puzzled.
"A special force."
Gendry's men camped on the broad open ground outside Castle Caswell.
The knights, squires, and soldiers were strong in body and high in spirit. At a glance, they were clearly well-trained elites, a fist formed after choosing the sharpest men.
"All trained knights and soldiers. No wonder there are not so many of them." Garlan looked over the army Gendry had brought. Every noble son of Westeros had to study heraldry, and Garlan knew it especially well.
Garlan could not put his astonishment into words. The cavalry Gendry had brought formed an iron fist, and the few infantry among them were the extremely expensive Unsullied.
According to the old way of war in Westeros, the usual ratio of noble knights to common soldiers was roughly one to ten, or one to eight or nine.
For example, at the Field of Fire, the combined armies of Casterly Rock and Highgarden had numbered fifty-five thousand men, including six hundred lords great and small, and more than five thousand mounted knights.
Of course, after the Seven Kingdoms were united, that ratio would rise, but no matter how it rose, it would not exceed one to four or one to five.
The cavalry army Gendry had brought was, from all appearances, the strongest force in the realm.
The "hall" of Castle Caswell was not truly large. Knights packed the room, and seats for their retainers could only be arranged on the long benches.
Gendry and Daenerys sat upon the dais, with Lord Randyll, Lord Yohn, Lord Jack, and the others around them.
Before the meal, there was an investiture ceremony.
"By command of His Grace King Gendry, let the new white brothers joining the Kingsguard step forward," the herald cried, and horns sounded.
Today, in the hall at Bitterbridge, several new white knights would be sworn in.
"Your Grace," Robar and the others knelt and said, "I ask you for the honorable position of the Kingsguard. I ask to become one of your Seven, to give my life for you, to follow you to the ends of the earth, to remain at your side at every moment, and to protect you from all danger."
"Ser Robar, are you willing to swear to serve the King for life, to protect him from harm and threat until death?" Ser Barristan asked.
"I am."
Robar answered. Even in old age, crippled in body, or broken in spirit, he would have to continue serving.
"Ser Robar, are you willing to hold no lands, take no wife, father no children, and give your loyalty only to your sovereign? To obey the King's commands, keep the King's secrets, offer counsel when the King requires it, remain silent when he does not, carry out the King's will, and defend his honor?"
"I am," Robar said with a nod.
Robar Royce, Guyard Morrigen, and Rolland Storm swore the same oaths in turn.
They were second sons, bastards, and youngest sons. They would rather embrace honor, while leaving the continuation of their houses to others.
Ser Balon Swann helped them to their feet, and then Ser Barristan draped white cloaks over each of them.
"White knights!"
"White knights!"
Applause and cheers followed, hoping they would write new honors of their own.
Now there were five white knights. Only two seats remained empty.
Though many knights of The Reach were eager to try, Gendry was determined to choose the best from among the best.
They had to be unmatched in martial skill, but also loyal and reliable.
Young, hot-blooded noble sons like Jaime Lannister the Kingslayer and Ser Loras Tyrell should never truly have joined the Kingsguard.
Of course, Jaime becoming a white knight had mainly been because Cersei, that troublemaker, had tempted him, while the Mad King had also wanted to disgust Tywin.
The Kingsguard was not the finest status. It was an honor, and also a burden. White knights were the men who protected the King, and they should possess the heart of nameless men.
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