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Before the north gate of Highgarden's second wall, archers from Robb's side and Oberyn's side shot at close range into the infantry charging toward them.
The northern army in northern-style mail fared better. The mail offered some protection. As long as arrows did not strike the head, heart, or other vital places, many men could keep fighting.
The Dornish army in cotton armor suffered far more. At such close range, powerful arrows drove into their bodies almost without obstruction. Severe wounds and sharp pain immediately took men out of the fight.
Weapon reach mattered in close combat.
The two formations had only just met when the Dornish soldiers thrust hard with their long spears at the northern soldiers rushing toward them.
The northern soldiers were elite veterans Robb had chosen specially, but not every man could react fast enough to dodge a spear thrust or block with sword and shield. In the blink of an eye, many northern soldiers were pierced through their mail and fell in sprays of blood.
The first northern soldiers who avoided the spear thrusts immediately took advantage of the enemy drawing their spears back. They broke into the spear formation, slammed the one-handed shields strapped to their arms into the spear shafts, and stabbed their swords into enemy bodies.
At the north gate, the black mail of the northern soldiers and the bright yellow cotton armor of the Dornish collided like two different-colored liquids mixing together.
Close combat in the age of cold steel was always the cruelest kind of fighting.
Great streams of red blood poured from spear wounds. Torn flesh spilled broken organs. Fragile lives vanished one after another on that battlefield.
A Dornish soldier had just driven his spear through a northern soldier's chest when the sky above him darkened, as if something had blocked the sun.
He looked up and had time only to cry out before a huge shape like a small hill smashed down on him, killing him instantly.
Bloodwind, restored to his giant size, lifted his head and gave a short howl as soon as he landed. Robb, on his back, stared at Oberyn among the Dornish soldiers with open challenge in his eyes.
Oberyn looked at the young man riding the giant ice direwolf and laughed softly.
'So arrogant because he has a little power.'
'Young men. There are still many terrors in this world you do not know.'
Not long before, after destroying the remaining Tarly soldiers on the first wall, Oberyn had ordered his own men toward the second wall. Before he could even descend from the wall, several hundred reckless Martell soldiers had entered the wildfire trap made from wooden barriers and been turned into human torches by arrows shot from unknown places.
After Oberyn came down and studied the situation, he followed the bodies and blood left by Garth through the maze and reached the second wall without trouble. He arrived just in time to see Garth break the north gate and Robb's army come from the west gate.
Although Oberyn was displeased by Garth's earlier scheme, for the larger battle at Highgarden, he still commanded the Dornish soldiers against the northern soldiers carrying direwolf banners.
The moment Oberyn's charming smile vanished, he hurled the golden-snake spear in his right hand toward Robb on Bloodwind's back.
The spear flew straight at Robb's head with a fierce shriek. Its fine steel point stopped four inches from his face.
Robb's left hand had closed around the forward shaft. The enormous strength in his hand canceled the spear's force.
'The Red Viper, then.'
'Very real. If a man means to kill, why consider honor?'
Robb's nose moved slightly, catching the sweet, rank scent on the spearhead. He felt a grudging respect for this Dornish prince, who lived more honestly than many nobles hiding behind false masks.
Robb tossed the golden-snake spear into the air. When it spun to a proper angle, he caught the shaft like lightning and threw it back at Oberyn.
'That strength. I cannot take it head-on.'
Seeing the spear return faster than it had gone, Oberyn made his judgment in a flash and rolled aside with practiced ease.
Oberyn avoided it, but a Dornish soldier behind him was pierced through the chest. The spear continued into the stone paving with terrible force, shattering the slab around the fine steel head.
"Bloodwind, go. We catch that man. Be gentle. Do not kill him. He is not food."
Seeing Oberyn avoid his probing strike, Robb lowered his head and gave the order.
For a character he had liked in his previous life, and one who was also a prince of Dorne with a hatred for House Lannister, Robb was not yet willing to feed him to Bloodwind.
As for abandoning Bloodwind's help and dueling the Red Viper on foot, perhaps Robb would have been interested in peacetime. In a life-and-death war, he was not foolish enough to do such a thing.
Bloodwind's long, powerful limbs drove into the ground. He brutally knocked aside the Dornish soldiers around him who dared not attack.
"Daemon, spear... and wine!" Oberyn ordered his attendant while watching the giant ice direwolf charge straight at him.
Then he glanced around at his tense guards and shouted, "It is only a very large beast. When you followed me across the Narrow Sea, what strange and terrible things did you not see?
"Get your courage up!"
"Yes!"
His personal guards, who had traveled with him, answered loudly and gripped their spears.
The handsome young attendant named Daemon handed Oberyn a spare golden-snake spear and a wineskin of strong Dornish red.
"Good wine."
Blood-red wine spilled from the corners of Oberyn's mouth as he drank deeply. Then he threw the skin aside and roared at Bloodwind, who was nearly upon him.
"I was just worrying about lacking good meat. Come, beast!"
Oberyn's words seemed to anger Bloodwind. A flash of fury passed through the wolf's intelligent ice eyes. He had meant to strike with a forepaw, but changed to biting with his swordlike teeth.
Even angry, Bloodwind obeyed Robb's order. He showed mercy by biting only toward Oberyn's left hand.
Oberyn was an agile fighter. As the enormous wolf head darted forward, he sidestepped to the right and avoided the attack. At the same time, the golden-snake spear in his hands truly moved like a living serpent, biting toward the left side of Bloodwind's neck.
A piece of ice armor the size of a man's palm appeared. The spear struck it with a clear metallic ring.
That small detail showed that Robb and Bloodwind, through constant use and practice, were gaining finer control over their magic. In the past, Bloodwind would have condensed at least an entire sheet of ice armor over the left side of his neck.
While Oberyn was still surprised by the sudden ice at Bloodwind's throat, a greatsword came down toward his head like a falling mountain.
Oberyn reacted instantly. With his right hand, he pressed down hard on the butt of the spear, using the spearhead braced against Bloodwind's neck to spring upward and meet the greatsword.
The moment Ice met the spear, the enormous power in the greatsword snapped the spear shaft in two.
Oberyn's hands went numb. He immediately abandoned the broken shaft and rolled back with the borrowed force, leaving the attack range of Bloodwind and the greatsword.
"Kill!"
Oberyn's guards seized the chance to rush forward with their spears, filling the space and buying him time to breathe.
'I knew from that throw that his strength was immense, but that blow may have exceeded the Mountain's.'
'Too absurd. When did such a monster appear in Westeros?'
Oberyn stood again, staring in shock at Robb and Bloodwind fighting his guards.
When Daemon brought him another spare spear, Oberyn made a decision. He took the golden-snake spear, pulled a small wooden-stoppered bottle from inside his armor, and opened it with great care.
He poured a thin thread of black liquid over the fine steel spearhead. Then he sealed the bottle and tucked it back into his leather armor. Finally, he took out a small pouch and hid it in his left sleeve.
Using the precious time bought by his guards' lives, Oberyn prepared to step forward again. Then he noticed that the scene had changed in an unexpected way.
Bloodwind, who had been slaughtering guards with brutal efficiency, was now leaping left and right among them, attacking wildly.
Robb, on his back, was affected at once. Forget attacking the guards; he could barely remain seated.
When Bloodwind's massive body seemed ready to roll on the ground, Robb, urgency showing in his face, jumped down from his back.
'What is this?'
From Bloodwind's back, Robb had not been able to see the wolf's eyes. Once on the ground, he immediately saw the cause of the abnormality.
Because freezing the Mander had consumed most of Bloodwind's magic, his ice eyes had grown very dim. Now a strange deep-blue energy was invading them.
'A magic attack? I still have so many blood pact points. Why are they not being consumed like before?'
'Does the pact's protection work only on me?'
Robb called up the blood pact data, but the points did not move. They were not being spent to cancel the magic effect as they had in the past.
While he worried for Bloodwind, his left ear twitched. He heard something coming from behind and to his left.
Robb turned swiftly and chopped with Ice. Cloth tore, and a cloud of fine powder scattered through the air.
His body, strengthened by red mist, had excellent sight. He saw the powder at once, held his breath, and stepped back out of its spread.
Oberyn was directly in front of him, chanting in a language Robb could not understand.
A thin layer of red mist rose from Robb's body, dissolving a faint black light that had just appeared.
'Only four blood pact points consumed?'
'Oberyn's magic is weaker than Leaf's wide-area sleep spell.'
After checking the blood pact data, Robb looked sternly at Oberyn, who wore a wicked, confident smile.
"Oberyn Martell, what did you do to my direwolf? Release it at once.
"I did not want to kill you. But if you insist on angering me, the consequences will be on your head."
"Young man, do not be so hot-blooded," Oberyn said leisurely. "I do not know why that beast suddenly went mad. But are you certain you still have the strength to hold the sword in your hands?"
Seeing his magic poison take effect, Oberyn began chatting with him as if victory were certain.
In his time at the Citadel, the subject that had interested Oberyn most was occult knowledge. He had even forged several maester's chain links. In the end, boredom made him leave and travel the world.
After roaming Essos, he fused the occult knowledge he had studied with his skill in poisons and created his own magic poisons.
What he had used on Robb was a magic poison that weakened the muscles. Unlike the more prized manticore venom magic that took effect through blood, this poison worked the moment it touched skin.
Robb understood from Oberyn's words that the man had used a weakening spell. No wonder it had cost fewer blood pact points than Leaf's sleep magic.
There was no point asking more in the current situation. Robb gripped Ice with both hands and charged.
On Highgarden's second north wall, Garth watched his elder sister, Malora, nervously. The moonstone in her hand glowed deep blue and was shrinking at a visible speed.
"No, Garth. Go join Baelor and leave Highgarden at once.
"That giant wolf is an occult creature of the highest order. My charm is nearly unable to suppress it."
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