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Clang, clang, clang!
Outside Gulltown's north gate, four thousand Dragonstone soldiers formed their lines beneath Stannis Baratheon's banner.
Stannis sat his horse in front of them. Davos Seaworth and Ser Rolland Storm waited nearby, both watching the road with grim faces.
A scout rode in hard.
"Your Grace, Lyn Corbray is returning with roughly five thousand men."
Gulltown's walls were not high enough to make Davos comfortable. The port was wealthy, but it had not been built to withstand a determined siege from the landward side.
"Your Grace," Davos began, "perhaps we should defend from the walls."
Stannis raised one hand.
Davos fell silent.
"We will meet him in the field," Stannis said.
Rolland looked troubled but did not object.
Stannis turned to Melisandre. "Are the prayers complete?"
"They are, Your Grace."
The red priestess stepped before the cavalry.
"Draw your swords."
Nearly five hundred riders obeyed. Many were sailors from the royal fleet, mounted because the king required cavalry more than he required comfort or tradition.
Melisandre began to chant.
The ruby at her throat glowed.
Flame burst along five hundred blades.
The riders stared at their own swords in wonder. Before the awe could settle, Melisandre chanted again. Her eyes flashed black. The shadows beneath the riders stretched, and dark, line-drawn eyes seemed to open within them.
The riders' own eyes turned pitch-black.
Stannis watched without flinching.
"Charge."
The cavalry moved.
Across the field, Lyn Corbray's archers loosed first. Arrows struck men and horses. Nearly a hundred mounts went down or stumbled. Some riders fell with shafts in their bodies.
The rest did not slow.
They rode with burning swords and black eyes, silent as dead men.
Corbray's cavalry met them and broke almost at once. After losing nearly a third of their number, the survivors turned and fled.
"Advance," Stannis ordered.
The Dragonstone infantry moved forward behind their king's cavalry.
Corbray's men fired another volley, flatter and more hurried than the first, then tried to pull back behind their spears. The burning riders hit them anyway. Horses impaled themselves on pikes. Men fell, rose again when neither head nor heart had been pierced, and kept killing.
The formation buckled.
Stannis's infantry loosed arrows into the disorder, then charged.
Lyn Corbray tried to rally his men.
"Hold! Hold the line!"
Orange flame struck him in the chest.
For a heartbeat, he stood there burning.
Then Lyn Corbray collapsed into ash.
Melisandre lowered her hand.
The Corbray army broke.
"Those who surrender live," Stannis ordered.
By dusk, three thousand prisoners knelt outside Gulltown. A thousand horsemen had escaped deeper into the Vale. Stannis had won a foothold, but the victory had cost him nearly all of the cavalry he could spare.
Three days later, the news reached Andar Royce.
The Bronze King read the report in silence. Stannis had taken Gulltown, killed Lyn Corbray, and captured most of his army.
For a time, Andar hesitated.
In the end, he returned to Runestone and sent scouts toward Gulltown.
The reports that came back calmed him. Even with prisoners pressed into service, Stannis had only half the men Andar could muster.
Then Stannis sent a raven.
The letter demanded submission and promised Andar the title of Warden of the East once Stannis took the Seven Kingdoms.
Andar tore the parchment in half.
The Vale lords gathered in Runestone's hall and reached the same conclusion quickly. Stannis was not an ally against the Eyrie, Littlefinger, or Tyrion Lannister. He was another enemy.
War for Gulltown, the eastern Vale, and the northern roads had begun.
After the council, only Andar and Ayla remained.
Ayla wore a black hooded robe. A white mask covered her face, leaving only her eyes and mouth visible.
Andar rubbed his brow. "Did I choose wrongly?"
Ayla stepped behind him and gently pressed her fingers to his temples.
"Whatever you choose, I will support you. Even if I must die for it."
"Do not say that."
He caught her hand.
"The gods let me save you from that shipwreck. That was no accident. When my father is rescued, I will marry you as my queen."
"Will your father accept me?"
"If he does not, I will marry you anyway."
He pulled her into his arms. In the motion, one of her gloves slipped loose, revealing skin blackened and scarred as if by old fire.
Ayla gently covered it again.
The next day, Andar sent his reply.
Alliance, or war.
Stannis read it in Gulltown and tore it apart.
Since killing Renly through shadow had brought him a crown's worth of opportunity, he reached for the same answer again.
That night, he went to Melisandre.
The red priestess received him in the dark.
Their joining was not tenderness. It was ritual, heat, and the price of power.
The next day, Melisandre left Gulltown in a covered carriage. By nightfall, near Runestone, her belly had swollen as if she had carried a child for months.
The guards did not dare ask questions.
In the darkness, she gave birth to a shadow.
This one was not quite like the shadow that had killed Renly. Melisandre's eyes turned black as it emerged. The shadow's own eyes looked almost alive. It stared at its mother for one breath, then dissolved into black mist and streamed toward Runestone.
In Runestone's garden, Andar walked with Ayla and two guards.
The shadow struck from behind.
Its dagger hit Andar's bronze armor. Ancient runes flared across the metal, bright for an instant, then went dark.
The armor had saved him once.
Only once.
The guards attacked.
The shadow became mist, passed through their blades, and formed behind them. Two quick thrusts dropped them dead.
Ayla began to chant.
The air rippled.
An invisible force exploded outward and hurled the shadow back.
"Filthy shadowbinder's trick," Ayla said, her voice cold. "Who sent you to kill my lover?"
The shadow hissed.
"Crude shadow magic," she said.
It attacked again.
Ayla raised her hand. The air burst once more, tearing half the shadow apart. The remaining half slipped around the impact and darted toward Andar.
Ayla tore off her white mask.
Mist flowed into her body. Her eyes brightened, and an unseen hand dragged Andar aside just before the dagger reached him.
The two halves of the shadow reunited and lunged at Ayla together.
She chanted faster.
The air tightened into two invisible boxes, trapping the shadow within them. Then Ayla threw two small stones into the cages. Fire flashed.
The shadow burned inside the sealed air until nothing remained.
In the woods outside Runestone, Melisandre's black eyes faded.
She bent forward and vomited blood.
"A wind sorceress," she whispered. "How can a wind sorceress be here?"
The backlash shook her body.
"We leave. Now."
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