Chapter 27 Bronn

Bronn knew the moment Lord Imp and his bitch of a sister the Queen decided to use wildfire to defend the city it was just asking for trouble. Some stupid cunt would drop a pot and let a flame touch the pigshit or some other idiotic thing would happen and then all their asses would be in the fire. It happened as he predicted and now they would all be lucky to escape with their lives.

When the bells had tolled and Bronn made his farewell to Tyrion he left the Red Keep and rode hard to the Mud Gate. Everywhere there was movement in the streets, gold cloaks coming out of barracks, manning the city walls and gates, people running around, panicking, and his move to the Mud Gate was not swift. When he got there the three large trebuchets the King loved so much were already in position in the large fishmonger's square inside the walls, loaded with stones to fling at the enemy ships when they sailed up the Blackwater. Bronn raced out of the city by a postern door near the gates. He could already see the naval galleys moving out into the Blackwater, lining up, getting ready to meet the enemy navy, to draw them upriver to the trap.

Behind the galleys tied up to the docks farthest upriver were two large flat bottomed barges, old things ready for scrap, but now filled with pots of green wildfire. Two handpicked crews were on board, ready to cast off the moment Bronn gave the order. Once the enemy fleet came up the Blackwater, baited by the small naval force in mid-stream awaiting them, the royal ships would row hard to the south and north sides of the river and then the barges would sail down between them on towards the enemy, carried by the strong current. The men on board would dive over the side and swim for shore. Then Bronn and five other archers would fire flame tipped arrows into the barges and soon they would set the Blackwater on fire.

Or at least that was the plan. It all went to shit from the very start. No enemy was coming up the Blackwater. As they waited a rider came fast past the cluster of wharves and warehouses and fishmonger's shops and found Bronn.

"They're not coming upriver!" the rider shouted. "They're landing on the south shore outside the river!"

Bronn cursed and mounted his own horse and followed the man downstream. Soon Bronn could see the far bank on the south side was covered with many thousands of men, streaming out of the Kingswood where the forest grew closest to the river. Then the man he was with shouted and pointed and Bronn could see many rowed galleys making fast for the south shore outside the Blackwater Rush.

"Damn!" Bronn cursed and then he raced back upriver and gave the command to release the barges. Maybe they would get lucky and the barges would get down into the bay and among the enemy ships before they finished loading troops. The two barges cast off from the docks and started to float downriver, passing between the small royal fleet. Once they were clear the crews jumped over the sides and swam for shore on the north bank. So far so good, Bronn thought. He moved back downriver to where his archers were. He jumped off his horse and a man handed him a bow and arrow.

"Wait for it, lads," Bronn commanded as the two barges began to float past them. Down river in the moonlight Bronn cold see the ships loading up on the south shore, some already moving across the mouth of the river heading past the Red Keep high on Aegon's Hill, rowing hard to keep moving against the current of the Blackwater Rush moving out into the bay. From the walls and Red Keep stones and arrows fell on the ships, and soon some pots of wildfire were also flung from up high. Several hit the sea, burst and green liquid spilled into the sea. Flaming arrows came down on them and soon the water was on fire in many spots. The green flames soon dotted the seascape and then one pot hit a ship, burst and must have hit a torch or lantern, because a sudden burst of green flame erupted and the ship was on fire, the wildfire burning with a green, sickly color. A long ragged cheer came from the walls as the first ship caught fire. But there were many more that were not on fire.

In front of Bronn was a fire in a pit. "Now," he said to his men and they all dipped their arrows in the flames, the oil soaked linen on the ends catching fire quickly. "Fire at will!" he shouted and in seconds all six of them had their flaming arrows in the air heading for the two barges. Three arrows hit one, two arrows hit the other, and soon they both caught fire.

Then Bronn realized that the ships at sea were too far away, the barges moving too slowly on the current. His barges would explode before they got there. As he thought on this, the first barge came out of the river into the bay and then exploded in a burst of green flame and smoke, the shock of the explosion rippling across the water and hitting Bronn and his men like a strong wind, knocking a few men off their feet. In seconds the other barge exploded with equal fury.

On the south bank men were shouting and pointing and then burning pots that had been flung into the air but hadn't yet exploded began to land on the south and north banks and in the water. A few men on the south bank caught fire and jumped in the river, screaming, but there was no solaced in the river as green flames shot across it and far out into the bay.

On the north bank Bronn saw a small rowed galley trying to land men there but the wildfire he had bury in the sand under the Red Keep now caught fire as burning pots from the barges hit it. With a whoosh several buried pots burst and sprayed wildfire in the air and across the sand. The galley pulled away fast and the men trying to land were sent screaming into the sea, trying to dose the unreal fire that now consumed their bodies.

The result of all this was that they had killed a few of Stannis' men on the south and north banks and two ships caught fire on the south shore, where they were still trying to load troops. Soon the men abandon these ships and streamed bank on shore as the ships burned.

"What a waste," Bronn said with a shake of his head. They had hardly done any damage to Stannis Baratheon's great fleet. "Right. Lads, I expect they could use you up on the walls. Off you go." His archers went back towards the Mud Gate. As they went off lighting flashed and thunder came and the sky opened up and a hard rain began to fall. Bronn cursed to himself. The Iron Gate. The Rosby Road. The water by the shore there was shallow but with the high tide ships could get right in and drop off men. Between the city walls and the shore was a short distance by the Iron Gate and farther up by the Dragon Gate as well. They could anchor a strong force on the walls and the shore and protect the besieger at the gates. The only way to stop them was from the walls, or to get a large force there first before they landed in strength.

Bronn turned to the messenger who had found him earlier. "Get word to the Lannister camp, if there are any that still live. We are under attack. Many ships with Stannis' banners on them picking up troops on the south shore and heading across the bay. Possible landing on shore below Iron Gate and Rosby Road. They need to get some men there to stop them."

The man repeated the message and then rode off hard in the rain. Bronn got on his horse and saw out on the river the royal fleet moving downstream. The wildfire was still burning on the water and would until it was used up. Hopefully, once it was finished the ships could move out and catch Stannis' ships and bugger them somehow.

He had to find Tyrion and tell him what was happening. Maybe he already knew, seeing as he was in the Red Keep and could see the whole bay from there. Bronn rode back into the city and again had trouble moving as people were filling the streets, and many shouted at him for information but he cursed them all and rode hard for the Red Keep. Once inside he was told Lord Imp and the Boy King were up on the battlements watching the battle. A very tired Bronn found them there, on the drum tower closest to the Iron Gate and farthest from the Blackwater Rush entrance. They were with Podrick and three of the Kingsguard, along with that milksop Lancel Lannister, all of them in their best armor. As Bronn arrived, Joffrey was just firing off a catapult filled with three heavy stones.

"For you, Uncle!" he shouted over the battlements as the stones went high into the air. Tyrion spotted Bronn and came over to him right away as the catapult was reloaded.

"What's happening?" Tyrion asked right away.

"The plan is fucked."

"I know," replied Tyrion with worry. "They are landing by the Iron Gate. I have already sent out orders with Lord Slynt for most of our gold cloaks to converge there."

Bronn could only nod and a squire handed him a skin of wine which he drank from deeply. The wine and the rain refreshed him some. He stepped towards the battlements and the sight before him was awesome to behold. The whole bay was filled with ships, mostly oared galleys. Down below many were passing below the Red Keep towards the Rosby Road shore and to the left many were unloading troops by the Iron Gate and Rosby Road. On the right the green flames from his failed wildfire attack still filled the sea. Out on the bay at least twenty ships were turned broadside toward the city and from them came a steady stream of stones and arrows and large bolts. As Bronn watch a large catapult stone hit the battlements of a tower below and to his left and three men were swept off the tower and went screaming to their deaths on the rocks below the Red Keep. But many more men still manned the walls and a steady return firing was coming, especially near the Iron Gate. More flaming pots of pitch went through the air to land among men and ships there and many stones and arrows came from the walls and more men died or were maimed. Wildfire was also flung from the catapults but mostly landed on the water. Those that did catch fire were burning in spots where few ships were located.

As Bronn looked over by the Dragon Gate he could just make the outline of men running up there from the Iron Gate. They were already forming ranks. He looked toward the Imp. "Tyrion, we need to send out a party by the Dragon Gate to stop them from getting organized down there."

"Someone has already seen to that," said Lancel a second later. The rest of them rushed over to where he was pointing. Far away in the rain and darkness they could just barely see horses charging and men fighting and infantry fleeing from the area of the Dragon Gate.

Joffrey gave a cheer which no one joined in on. "Whose men are those?"

"Ours, apparently, Your Grace," Tyrion said dryly and Bronn knew his message had somehow gotten through to the Lannister army. Maybe they hadn't been destroyed after all.

Just then a weary man in Lannister colors arrived. "Your Grace," he gasped as he bowed to Joffrey. "I bring messages from Ser Kevan Lannister. The army is safe." Then he had to gasp for breath.

"Safe?" Tyrion said in disbelief. "But…we saw the flames. What happened?"

"A prisoner gave us warning of the attack, my lord," the man reported. "Ser Kevan ordered us out of camp below the city walls before the flaming oil came. Stannis' horse hit us but we repelled them with heavy losses."

"Flaming oil," Bronn said with smirk to Tyrion. "What was it you said it was?"

Tyrion gave him an irritated look. "Nevermind that. This changes everything."

"Yes," Joffrey said and he turned to the messenger. "I command Ser Kevan to bring his army to the Iron Gate at once."

"Your Grace," said Lancel quickly before the messenger could reply. "There is no room for them to move down there."

"He's right," Bronn added.

The messenger now spoke up. "Your Grace, we have not defeated the enemy cavalry. They have only retreated and are still out there, forming for another attack. Ser Kevan thinks they may be ten thousand strong."

Joffrey looked from one to the other and Bronn could see he was out of his depth. Then the King's eyes fell on Tyrion. "Uncle?"

Bronn could tell that single word from the King pleased Tyrion more than anything else that had happened so far. Tyrion raised his eyebrows as if to say, 'oh, so now you want my advice', and then he nodded once and spoke. "We must deal with the men by the Iron Gate ourselves, Your Grace. Ser Kevan and his men cannot break ranks or they would be ridden down by the enemy cavalry." Tyrion turned to Bronn. "My friend, feel like leading a sortie of gold cloaks to help those fellows down there?"

Bronn snorted. "Don't know about leading them, but I'll pass the word. Suppose someone down there already has the command."

"Then tell whoever it is to break those men and clear the Iron Gate," Tyrion told him. "We will continue to pour it on from up here." Then he turned to the Lannister messenger. "Return to Ser Kevan and tell him to maintain his position but send any men he can spare to the fight for the Iron Gate."

"At once, my lord," the man said and then he was gone, with Bronn not far behind him. Going down the long stairs down to ground level was faster than the climb up, but still exhausting nevertheless. Thankfully the page he had given his horse to hold had enough sense to stay there and Bronn was swiftly on his way to the Dragon Gate. On the way he stopped a captain with a small body of gold cloaks on horse clearing the streets of civilians who were in the way of reinforcements moving toward the Iron Gate.

"Do you know me?" Bronn shouted at the captain through the rain.

"You're the Hand's man," the captain said.

"Aye," Bronn replied. "Take these men and any more you can find on horse and follow me to the Dragon Gate!"

"But we have orders from Lord Slynt to keep the streets to the Iron Gate clear of civilians."

"I have orders from the Hand and the King for you to follow me!" Bronn retorted and the man hesitated and then turned to his men. "Follow me!"

As they moved they collected a few dozen more and by the time they got to the Dragon Gate close to two hundred men were following them. Bronn shouted for the men at the gate to open it and soon they were out in the rain and mud and then he saw a man on horse in white armor. It was the Kingslayer, the Imp's brother.

The Kingslayer spotted him and rode over to Bronn. "What news?" Ser Jaime shouted to him.

"They landed on the south bank of the Blackwater outside the river mouth and picked up thousands," Bronn shouted back. "They never even went up the Blackwater. Now they're moving across to this shore by the Iron Gate. We burned some of their ships and burned some who landed below the Red Keep but too many of the cunts are getting through."

"What of our fleet?"

"Moving out now to take them in the flank…I hope," Bronn said grimly. "It's fucking chaos out there." It truly was a chaotic scene out on Blackwater Bay in front of the city.

"Where's Tyrion?" Ser Jaime asked next, concern in his voice. Bronn noticed he did not ask about the King, his son.

"With the King on the battlements," Bronn replied. "He sent me to tell whoever was in command here to break that wall of men and kill those fuckers."

"That's what I'm trying to do!" Ser Jaime shouted back. "You get up above to the walls and rain wildfire on these men in front of me! Then I will charge once they begin to panic!"

"Right you are," Bronn said and then without a word he turned and rode back into the city. He could feel the weariness seep through his body but there was no time to be tired. I should have five or six men with me to pass messages, Bronn realized, an oversight in all the planning they did. Poor communications had killed many an army in the past he knew. The maze of city streets made getting to the walls difficult and finally he found a spot close to where the Kingslayer had pointed out the enemy ranks and soon he found a set of stairs built on the inner side of the walls and he was up on the battlements.

From here he could look down on the field between the Dragon and Iron Gates and saw it filled with Stannis' men. The gold cloaks here were few in number but were busy firing arrows and chucking spears and launching stones out of the one catapult they had.

"Where's the wildfire?" Bronn yelled at a soldier.

"There," the gold cloak said, pointing to a stack of pots behind him. To Bronn it looked like none had been thrown at all. He grabbed a gold cloak with sergeant's markings. "Why the hell ain't you been using the wildfire?"

"I'm not touching it!" the man said, fear in his eyes.

"Now you are!" Bronn said to him, battle madness on him finally, and he knew he would be alright. Once that feeling came he knew he would survive anything. "Get three more men and help me or I'll throw you over the fucking wall!"

The sergeant quickly obeyed him and as Bronn took a lit torch from its bracket the sergeant returned with three soldiers. Just as they lined up by the wildfire pots an arrow hit one from behind and penetrated his armor under the right shoulder. He screamed and collapsed and was led off by some others to be taken care of.

"Right," Bronn said to the men left. "Pick up a pot each. You toss that fucker fast and make sure you hit someone or close enough to someone down there. Once you throw them I'll toss the torch."

Each gold cloak bent to the stock and warily picked up a pot and moved to the wall. Bronn pointed with his torch to where Stannis men were forming a thick wall of Infantry with archers behind. "There!" he said and the first man flung his pot away from himself in terror and the pot barely cleared the battlements and crashed to the ground just below where they stood. Bronn smashed him in the face with his free hand and the gold cloak fell to his knees whimpering in pain, holding his nose which spurted blood.

"Fuck off back to dropping stones!" Bronn yelled at him and he crawled away, lamenting his broken nose. Bronn looked at the second man. "You throw this pot! If you drop it like that stupid cunt you'll get the sword, not my fist. Understand?"

"Yes, my lord!"

"I'm no lord," Bronn said in disgust and ordered the man to thrown his pot. This man tossed his pot far in the air in a high arc and it crashed down on the infantry and soon the other two did the same and Bronn tossed his torch out in a high arc to where the pots had landed. Soon a blaze of green fire filled the air and men were screaming in pain down there. Then they started bringing up more pots and soon three more crashed down on the panicking men down below and the flames spread. Bronn halted them when he saw the Kingslayer's cavalry charge and scatter the enemy and then a great cheer rose from the gold cloaks along the wall. Then Bronn saw the Kingslayer's men halted by a new line of infantry and they retreated all the way back to the Dragon Gate.

"You three with me!" Bronn shouted and they started to move along the wall toward the Iron Gate and where Stannis' new line of men was forming. But as they ran along the wall, avoiding the arrows and stones that came over it, suddenly to his right there came a shattering booming noise and Bronn halted and stared in disbelief as he saw a great ball of green fire and smoke rise in the air. All down below them in the city glass shattered, people screamed, houses trembled, and horses ran in panic. A ripple of air moved out from the center of the explosion and only Bronn had the sense to drop to the stone floor of the parapet. Not one second later the blast of air hit them and several gold cloaks standing near him went tumbling over the walls and fell screaming. Bronn knew that any who survived the fall would surely be killed by Stannis' men in seconds.

Bronn slowly stood and watched as green arcs came flying out of the great ball of fire that now rose over a hundred feet or more by the battlements between the Iron Gate and the Red Keep. The green arcs were pots of wildfire slowly tumbling in the air and then landing at many points around the city. In seconds over a dozen fires broke out and then it was as if a collective scream from almost three hundred thousand people rented the air. The city was now engulfed in panic.

"Bugger," Bronn said to himself and then he realized he was alone. An arrow whizzing past his left ear reminded him he was not quite alone. He dropped to the floor of the parapet again and thought on his only two options as he sat with his back to the battlements.

Run, was the first thing that came to mind. He'd done it before, more than once, and was still alive because he had done it.

Fight, was the second option. He looked off to his left toward the Iron Gate. Many men were still there, fighting for their city and now Bronn heard a booming sound. A ram was pounding on the gate. Bronn looked out and saw thousands of people fleeing through the twisting lanes and streets of the stinking city. Flea Bottom was right over there at the base of Rhaenys' Hill. The closest place for them to flee the fires now reaching out for their homes and hovels and pot shops and wine sinks was the Iron Gate. Already many of them were heading that way. Soon Stannis' men would not need a ram to get that gate open. The city was going to fall.

"Run," Bronn said to himself out loud and soon he was up and trotting in a stooped loping run back along the parapet toward the Dragon Gate. To his left fires were leaping up and spreading and the wildfire was now in the midst of an unquenchable source of fuel, three hundred years of filth and squalor about to be consumed. Even the rain that was falling steadily did not seem to slow its progress. Bronn came to the spot where he had left his horse but when he looked down as he came down the steps built into the inner side of the walls he saw his horse was gone. Some cunt had stolen it, no doubt. All the men that had been here earlier were gone as well. The gold cloaks had panicked and taken off, as he feared some of them would if the situation got out of control. A fire was burning down there now and Bronn reasoned he had a better chance of escaping if he stayed on the walls.

When he reached the Dragon Gate he saw the men that were supposed to be guarding it had left already. Below through the open gates a steady stream of people were running and out there in the fields they were gathering, a great huddled mass, looking back at their proud capital, now burning. His eyes searched for the Kingslayer and his men but they were gone.

Bronn kept going, moving at a trot now, conserving his energy, past the Old Gate, also abandoned and opened and then finally when he made it to the Gate of the Gods he found some gold cloaks still on duty. They saw him coming and thrust their spears out for protection and Bronn stopped short.

"It's Bronn you fools!" he shouted. They lowered their spears and Bronn rested for a moment on the battlements. Down below he saw that this gate was opened as well and many people were fleeing here.

"What do we do?" one gold cloak asked him. "We have no orders. No one knows where Lord Slynt is or any of the captains."

Bronn stared at him, thought about lying and then realized these men were almost the same as him. Certainly not as good, but just the same they were lads who had signed up for some coin and food. He couldn't lie to them. "The city is finished. The Lannister army is still out there, to the west. Come on, let's gather as many men as we can and get to the Lion Gate."

They agreed immediately and then as they moved they collected more men and finally what seemed a long wearisome march later they arrived at the Lion Gate, which had dozens of gold cloaks on top and was firmly shut. They were firing arrows down on some people trying to rush the gate from the inside. Out in the field below the walls the great bulk of the Lannister army stood in rank upon rank facing towards the west.

"What the fuck is this?" Bronn asked the commander of the gold cloaks at the Lion Gate.

"Orders! Ser Kevan told me to make sure no one gets through this gate!"

"There's an easier way," Bronn said and he picked up a nearby pot of wildfire and held it up but did not drop it.

Bronn shouted down to the people. "The Gate of the Gods is open! Now piss off over there or I'll set this pigshit on fire and drop it on the lot of you!"

In panic they started to move away and soon the area was clear. Bronn delicately set the pot down on its stack. Then he turned to the men who had come with him and the ones guarding the gate. "You men best come with me. If the heat gets too much that wildfire will cook us all." Then he went down to the street and the rest followed him quickly. They found the postern door and soon they were outside the city walls. Right away two Lannister men drew swords on Bronn.

"Halt!" one shouted.

"He's the Hand's man," said the Lion Gate gold cloak commander.

"You lot abandoned your post!" shouted the other one.

Bronn glared at him. "Listen, you stupid cunt. That wildfire stored up there is going to blow any time now from the heat. You want to stand down here and argue till that happens?"

"No," said the man with fear in his eyes as he looked up to the walls.

"Take me to your commander," Bronn told him, too weary to curse them out anymore. Soon he was brought before Ser Kevan Lannister and his command group, which included the Mountain.

"What news of the city?" Ser Kevan asked Bronn right away.

"It's all gone to hell," Bronn told him. "The wildfire got out of control. How, I don't know. The whole place is burning."

"Seven hells," snarled the Mountain. "That fucking Imp and his fucking wildfire. He'll cost us the war!"

Ser Kevan ignored his outburst. "What news of the King and the Queen and Tyrion?"

"The King and Tyrion were on the battlements with Lancel and some Kingsguards."

"Lancel?" Ser Kevan said sharply. "He's my son. What were they doing?"

"Looking at the battle, giving orders," Bronn said. "Where's Ser Jaime?"

Ser Kevan looked very vexed now. "His men said he went into the city to rescue Tyrion and Cersei."

"He's wasting his time," Bronn replied. "Tyrion had a plan of escape. Lord Varys knows all the ways in and out of the city, all underground. Once the wildfire blew Tyrion would know the city could not stand. They must be in the tunnels now."

"Where were they supposed to come out?" Ser Kevan asked.

"The Iron Gate," Bronn answered. "But they will change their plans. Varys, he's a smart one. He'll get them out."

Just then the Lion Gate behind them opened up and a lone man leading a horse came out. Behind him came a billowing cloud of white smoke and they could all feel the heat. He was wearing black armor. Many men drew swords and then Ser Kevan stopped them.

"It's Ser Jaime!" he shouted and they ran to his side just as Jaime collapsed to the ground. Bronn bent to him and touched his armor and immediately pulled his hand away it was so hot. The once white armor was covered in soot.

"Water!" shouted the Mountain and water was brought and Jaime drank and then he sat up and they took off his helmet and poured more water over his head and his armor. The still steady drizzle of rain helped cooled it more and it steamed as it cooled. Then a squire started to help him take it off.

"I…I couldn't reach the Red Keep," Jaime gasped finally. "The fire…its everywhere. I couldn't save them."

"The Red Keep is on fire?" Ser Kevan asked in astonishment. "Lancel was there, Bronn said."

Jaime shook his head. "No, the Red Keep is not on fire, uncle. But the streets leading to Aegon's Hill are all ablaze. There's bodies everywhere, smoke everywhere. The heat nearly killed me and my horse. Someone see to my horse, if you would." A page took it away to get some water.

"Bronn said Tyrion had a plan of escape," Ser Kevan told Jaime as they helped him stand. Bronn quickly explained.

"I don't know these tunnels," Jaime said. "Where could they come out?"

"Anywhere," Bronn replied. "Except by the Iron Gate now"

Jaime stood tall and drank some more water. "What is the situation here?"

"Nothing has happened since you left, my lord," the Mountain told him.

Jaime looked at Ser Kevan. "Uncle, there is nothing we can do for the King and Lancel and the others now. Any men we send in there will never get out. Tyrion will get them out or he won't. King's Landing will fall, and a nice present it will be for Stannis, a smoking ruin. I say let him have it. But thousands of his men are in front of us." Jaime pointed off to the west, where the fires Bronn had seen early had now died out or the rain had put them out. "Let's go kill those bastards and then we plan how to kill Stannis later."

Ser Kevan seemed to grow in confidence and nodded once and looked to his commanders. "Men, we will advance the army at a walking pace, infantry in line, not square, but be prepared to form square quickly. Archers behind the infantry. Ser Addam, send out scouts. Ser Gregor, Ser Addam form two flying columns of cavalry on each wing. At once, my lords."

The men ran off to do their duty and then Jaime looked at his uncle. "Where do you want me?"

"Here," he said. "With Bronn and forty men on horse and the gold cloaks from the Lion Gate. Wait here in case Tyrion and the others make it somehow."

"Uncle, I am ready for a new fight."

"Your armor is damaged, your horse is exhausted and so are you," Ser Kevan said. "I need you here, where you can rest and help Tyrion when he comes out of the city." Jaime seemed about to protest again but then wearily nodded. His uncle bade them good luck and they did the same and soon the Lannister army was marching to the west in the rain and darkness, leaving behind forty Lannister horsemen and about sixty gold cloaks under Jaime's command.

"What's happening, my lords?" the gold cloak commander asked.

"We're attacking those bastards out west," Jaime told him. Then suddenly there was an explosion above them, on top of the Lion Gate.

"There goes the wildfire," Bronn said as green flames leaped into the air and everyone moved swiftly away from the gate.

As they retreated Bronn looked up and could see the sky on glow from the fires. Gods, Tyrion, you bloody bastard, I hope you are still alive in that mess somewhere. Then he looked to the north and he could see the crowds of people fleeing from the city. Bronn looked over towards the river and he could see many people streaming along its banks, heading west.

"Looks like the Mud Gate is open now, too," he told Jaime.

"There is no safety to the west," Jaime replied. "Damn it. What do we do with them?"

"Nothing," Bronn said. "They're Stannis' people now, not yours to protect anymore."

Jaime grunted. "Stannis is not King yet."

"My lord," said one of Jaime's mounted men. "What do we do if the civilians come this way?"

"Charge," Jaime said with a grin at Bronn.

"Yes…yes, my lord," said the man with some hesitation.

Jaime shook his head. "A poor jest, my man. Leave them be unless they interfere in our business."

"Yes, my lord."

"Tyrion knows the army is here?" Jaime was asking Bronn suddenly.

"Aye, he does."

"Then he will tell Varys to find a way to reach the Lion, King, or Mud Gate."

"Aye, for certain, "Bronn answered and then he remembered something. "I lost my horse."

"And mine is not fit for battle," said Jaime. Just then his squire ran up with a suit of body armor in Lannister colors.

"Where did you get this?" Jaime asked.

"Off one of our dead men," the squire replied. "It looks your size, my lord."

"Well, I hope it serves me better than the last man who wore it,' Jaime said as the squire started helping him get it on. "After you are done get Bronn and myself some fresh horses. Or at least two of those wandering around here which are not wounded in some way."

After horses were found for them, they mounted up and moved their force off a bit farther from the Lion Gate to escape the heat and smoke, but kept close enough to ride down fast if needed. The city was aglow and the rain still kept falling, a steady patter on the men's armor, sometimes heavy, sometimes just a drizzle. But constant. Too bad wildfire burned in water. But Bronn knew that not all the fires in there were caused by wildfire and the pigshit would burn itself out eventually. Maybe something of the city would be saved. He then spit on the ground. Fuck the city. Stannis can have it.

Suddenly, behind them they heard a great shout and thundering hoofs and the clash of steel on steel. The Lannister army found Stannis' cavalry.

"Gods, I wish I was there!" Jaime said strongly.

Bronn snorted. "You know, I haven't drawn my sword all night. Funny, the great Battle of King's Landing and I spent it blowing up pigshit and running messages for you lords."

"It's not over yet," Jaime told him. And then, as if to emphasize his point, in the glow of the fires they saw a large body of men come around the city walls to the north by the Gate of the Gods. Suddenly, at almost the same time, they saw a light in the walls at ground level far to the left of where the Lion Gate was. "What's that?" Bronn asked, pointing. Then shadows moved in the light made by the opening and someone was coming out. Soon a group of people emerged, a few women and men and two children by the looks of it. They moved fast away from the city walls.

"Civilians, my lord," shouted Jaime's cavalryman who had asked about civilians earlier. "Coming our way."

"I think we'll leave this lot to Stannis' bunch to fed and shelter," Jaime said.

Bronn watched them and then as they staggered away from the smoke and heat of the city Bronn suddenly knew. That child, the way he walked, that waddle he had seen so often, that he had laughed at so many times and that he never knew he loved until this moment.

"IMP!" he shouted and with a flash he put his heels to the horse he was on and was charging down toward them, Jaime understanding instantly and was close on his heels with the other forty men as well, with the gold cloaks running behind them.

Stannis' men were coming toward Tyrion's small group, at least a hundred men or more, all infantry with spears. Whether they knew who it was in front of them or not, Bronn did not know and it did not matter.

Bronn turned his horse toward Stannis' men and Ser Jaime knew what he was doing and ordered his men to follow. In ten seconds they were on them and the enemy had no time to form a line as the horsemen shattered their ragged ranks. Bronn shouted in joy as his sword slashed down on a man and then his unfamiliar horse was tumbling and Bronn was out of the saddle and hitting the ground hard. The wind was knocked out of him but he knew he had to get up.

In seconds four of them with spears surrounded him and Bronn was in his element. A spear thrust towards him and he grabbed it and pulled the man forward and stabbed him with his sword. Then he thrust the spear behind him and skewered another who fell with a scream. He ducked as the third one's spear went flying past and then Bronn rolled over the first man he killed, pulled his sword out of his guts and brought it up into the fourth one's guts as he was bringing his spear down, just missing Bronn's left shoulder. Bronn kicked this one off his sword and turned to the one who had thrown his spear. This one suddenly found he'd rather not die today and took off running with the rest of his companions who felt the same way.

Ser Jaime rode up to him. "Well done."

"I got three. How about you?" Bronn asked as he caught his breath, looking around at about thirty dead and dieing men, mostly Stannis' lot.

"About twenty so far tonight. Come." He reached down a hand and helped Bronn up behind him. Soon they rode over to where Tyrion and his party was, surrounded by the gold cloaks who had their spears pointed outwards. Bronn looked quickly and saw Tyrion, Cersei, Podrick, Lord Varys, one of the Kingsguard, Tommen, Lancel, and Shae. But the King wasn't with them. Oh, bugger.

Jaime leaped off his horse and ran right into his sister's arms. "Jaime!" Cersei cried as she hugged him. Nearby her was the little boy Tommen, looking frightened, holding Shae's hand. Lord Varys was standing there, gasping for breath, barely alive with sweat pouring off him, his face almost black with soot. One of the Kingsguard, Ser Arys, and Podrick were helping Lancel stand. An arrow was buried deep in Lancel's right side near the arm pit and he was in agony. They were all covered in black soot and ashes and looked like they had been through hell.

Tyrion stood to one side, looking at Bronn. "You were right," Tyrion said ruefully. "We should never have used wildfire."

Bronn shrugged. "It could have worked."

"It did," said Tyrion. "For Stannis."

"Where's the King?" Bronn asked him and Tyrion just shook his head and Bronn knew Joffrey was dead.

Then Ser Jaime shouted, "Where is the King!" and Bronn realized he knew as well.

Bronn turned and Cersei was weeping and now Tommen started to cry as Shae tried to calm him down. Jaime was standing toe to toe with Ser Arys and Jaime was livid.

"Where is the King!" Jaime screamed again.

"He fell, my lord," Ser Arys told his commander.

Jaime looked at him for a moment in confusion. "Fell? In battle? You were supposed to protect him!"

"No, Jaime," Tyrion said gently. "He didn't fall in battle. When the wildfire blew up, the force flung Joffrey off the battlements and into the sea. Ser Boros and Ser Meryn fell as well."

"Then we must save them!" Jaime said strongly, preparing to mount his horse again.

"It's over a hundred feet high, perhaps two hundred, my lord," Lord Varys told him. "And there are many rocks below the Red Keep."

"He could have survived," Bronn said. "If he hit the water right. And if his armor didn't drown him."

Cersei seized on this. "Yes! We must search before Stannis' men find him!"

Jaime mounted his horse. "Let's go. Bronn. Ser Arys."

Tyrion looked at Bronn. "We are spent. Go with him. Keep him safe. If you do this I promise…"

"I know, I know. And Lannisters always pay their debts," Bronn said. "Your uncle took the army to the west to finish off those other buggers. We heard them fighting. You best head that way. Going there may not be the safest place but staying here ain't safe at all. Those bastards we attacked will be back soon with reinforcements."

Jaime ordered the gold cloaks and other men to stay with the Queen and Tommen. He just might be the new king, Bronn thought as he was given a new horse to mount, his third in as many hours. Ser Arys also got a horse and mounted up, weary as he was.

"I bet escaping from the city is a good tale," Bronn said to Tyrion from his horse.

"Come back alive and I will get you gloriously drunk and tell it all."

"That's a promise I look forward to," Bronn said with a grin and then he was away, chasing Jaime and Ser Arys across the fields.

What the fuck the Kingslayer expected to accomplished Bronn had no idea. That fucking tower they had been on wasn't the highest one in the Red Keep, but it was well over a hundred feet, maybe much more, from there to the sea. Joffrey and the other two were dead, no fucking doubt. But he guessed they had to make sure somehow.

They galloped past the Kings Gate and then a horde of civilians was clogging the way between the walls and the river by the Mud Gate. Jaime was yelling and cursing but no one moved. Bronn looked at the river wharves and saw one fishing boat tied up there. Al the rest were gone, to the south bank, where many people were being unload.

"Ser Jaime!' he shouted. "A boat will be faster!"

Jaime and Ser Arys galloped out onto the wharves and many people were here as well, trying to board the last boat and get across the river. They found the crew with spears and oars defending their little boat. Jaime leaped off his horse and bulled his way though the people.

"Who owns this boat?" he shouted.

"I do," shouted a grizzled old man. "Who's fucking asking…oh, shit. It's the Kingslayer."

"That it is," said Jaime as he leaped down into the boat. "You men are to take us out into the bay and search for someone we lost."

"Begging pardon, my lord," said the captain. "It's a bleeding war out there."

Jaime pulled his sword and Bronn and Ser Arys jumped down with him, steel drawn. "Man this fucking boat or I will sail it myself," Jaime commanded, the implication being that the captain would not be around any longer to do so himself.

"Aye, my lord," the captain said and then he shouted orders and his men untied the boat and cast off and pushed it out into the river as people begged them to take them with them. As they moved away many people fell in the river and were carried away by the current, screaming and floundering about. The current carried the small boat swiftly down the river. There on the south bank Bronn saw the remains of the only two ships his wild fire plan destroyed. The south bank was empty of men now.

As they came out into the bay the six man crew manned three oars on each side and started to row hard. Jaime shouted to the captain from the prow. "Under the Red Keep, close ashore."

"Aye," said the captain at the tiller near the rear. He looked at Bronn. "Who we bleeding looking for who is so important to risk me little boat? The bleeding King?"

"Aye," Bronn told him and the captain's eyes widened. "If we find him you'll be richly rewarded. Ser Jaime here is a Lannister and you know what they say about Lannisters and debts."

"That I do," the captain said, his eyes now shining with greed.

Bronn looked out to sea and there were many ships here and all seemed to be standing off, not moving. He also saw more than a few sinking or sunk ships and it seemed as if some kind of naval battle had gone on here. The royal navy had made a stand and had been defeated by the looks of things. All the surviving ships had large bright yellow banners. The bay was dotted with bodies and wreckage. He looked back towards the city and it was still aglow with the fires. Off on the Rosby Road shore were many beached boats and many men on the shore, a great horde of men, all near the Iron Gate. But it was too far away to see much.

Slowly they rowed under the Red Keep, close to shore, and no one took notice of them or came to see what they were doing. Ser Arys spoke suddenly and pointed up. "That's the tower he fell from."

Bronn looked up and saw how high it was. "That's over a one hundred fifty feet for sure."

"I see a body!" Jaime said and then he ordered the captain to get as close to shore as he could. Jaime jumped into the waist deep water and Bronn followed him, with Ser Arys left on board to make sure their enforced crew did not row away.

The body was lying on some rocks and was in the armor of the Kingsguard. Jaime took one look at it and told Bronn it was Ser Meryn. He was dead, his legs and body twisted at a grotesque angle.

"Ser Meryn?" Bronn said. "Ain't he the one beat the Stark girl?"

"So I've heard," Jaime replied. "Maybe the gods were watching him in their own cruel way."

"If the King hit the rocks, he's dead as well," Bronn said. Jaime said nothing. He looked along the shore line towards where the Iron Gate was. There was a spit of land sticking out there, Bronn knew. Jaime started walking toward the spit of land.

"I wouldn't go along that way," Bronn told him. "I had some wildfire buried along here. Some of them pots haven't gone off yet."

Jaime said nothing but turned back to the small fishing vessel and soon they were back on board.

"Who was it?" Ser Arys asked Bronn as Jaime resumed his position in the prow and they started moving again.

"Ser Meryn," Bronn told him. "What happened to the rest of you lot? Seven of you, wasn't there?"

"Clegane is at Harrenhal, Ser Jaime and I are here," the knight began. "Ser Meryn is dead, Ser Boros also was flung from the tower and is most likely dead as well. Ser Preston and Ser Mandon were with the Queen and Prince Tommen. When we found them we all escaped into the tunnels. We were in the tunnels and were attacked by Stannis' men. Ser Mandon and Ser Preston were guarding our rear. They fought and must have died there. But I didn't see them fall. Lord Tyrion told me to press on. I could not abandon Prince Tommen or the Queen."

"Attacked in the tunnels?" Bronn said with some surprise. "How in hell did Stannis' men get in the tunnels? How they even know about the tunnels?"

"Stannis lived in King's Landing for many years."

"Aye, so did Baelish, that cunt," Bronn said, remembering Littlefinger was a prisoner. Or was he? Attacked in the tunnels. The Imp had a quite tale to tell of his adventures for sure.

Now they were far along the shore and near that spit of land sticking out. They saw more bodies floating in the water but none were Joffrey or Ser Boros. Suddenly the captain ordered his men to stop rowing.

"I ain't going any further, my lord," the captain said to Jamie. "They'll see us soon enough if they ain't already."

"I need to get closer to the Iron Gate, to see what they are doing," Jaime replied in frustration.

"Why didn't you say so?" said the captain. "Got me a spy glass for that." He reached into a leather bag and pulled out a Myrish spyglass and handed it to Jaime.

"How in seven hells did you get a spy glass?" Bronn asked him.

"The Spider gave it to me," said the captain. "Gift, he said, for finding one of Stannis' spies right on this very shore. The spy had it on him."

"What happened to the spy?"

"Don't know. In the dungeons or dead, I reckon."

Jaime was standing on the prow, the spy glass to his right eye, looking and looking and then he gasped. "He's dead. Gods, they are going to burn his body!"

Bronn ran up to the prow and Jaime handed him the glass. Bronn pointed it toward the Iron Gate area, just over the spit of land that jutted into Blackwater Bay. There was much light there as they had lit many fires by the gate. The battle was over there. The gates were open and a large crowd of people, soldiers and civilians, was there. Bronn could just make out a woman in red, and standing beside her was a man with a sword that seemed on fire. That had to be Stannis. Suspended from a large crossed pole was a body without a head. The body had the clothing and armor that Joffrey had worn that day. Then, Bronn saw it. Stuck in the sand next to the crossed pole was a very tall pike. On it was mounted a head with blond hair. It had to be Joffrey's head.

Below the headless body were many branches stacked high and the woman was raising her arms in the air and many soldiers were chanting. The civilians looked on in horror, hemmed into a group by spearmen, but they were not harming them. Now those on the boat could hear them across the water, but the words were muffled and indistinct. Then Stannis placed his glowing sword in the branches and they burst into a sudden flame. Then the chanting grew louder and louder as the flames reached Joffrey's body.

Before Bronn knew it, Jaime was standing on the prow, his sword drawn. "I will kill that red cunt and her master right now." He leaped off the boat and landed in shallow water, only up to his chest, and started wading to shore where the spit of land was.

"Fuck," Bronn said and then he put down the spy glass and jumped in after him. The bottom was rocky under the water and Bronn almost twisted his ankle on a rock when he jumped in but his good leather boots were stiff and his foot just slid off the rock.

"Come help me or leave me alone to do my duty, Bronn," Jaime said in anger as he waded to shore.

"Tyrion told me to take care of you!" Bronn shouted back. "Can't let you go kill yourself for a dead King."

Jaime stopped and turned. "He wasn't just the King to me."

"Aye. I know."

"Yes, I suppose you do. Tyrion or Ned Stark?"

"Stark."

Jaime sighed wearily. "I don't really think of him as my son. But he is blood nonetheless. And I will have vengeance. For my father at least."

"What will your death prove?"

"I won't die. I can take Stannis on any day. I will challenge him to single combat. His honor will not allow him to refuse in front of his men and his whore."

"Aye, no doubt you'll beat him. But the man had his own brother killed. He sent assassins after your father. What fucking honor does he have left? He'll never fight you. And he's not alone. You'll never get to him."

"Look, just run back to Tyrion if you don't want to…"

"OH, BUGGER!" came a scream from the boat and Bronn turned in time to see the men and Ser Arys leaping off it just as a small galley smashed into its other side and cleave the fishing ship in two.

"Time to go!" Bronn shouted and Ser Jaime hesitated. "You've got another son and a daughter!" Bronn shouted to him as he backed away. Jaime let out a scream of frustration and then started to follow him toward shore.

From the galley came shouts and arrows started being fired and men leaped into the water and drew swords and started after the desperate crew. Jaime and Bronn reversed direction and clashed with the enemy men, the battle lust on them again, and Jaime was enraged and fought like a demon. Ser Arys turned and fought also and between the three of them they killed six men in the shallow waters and the rest backed off, fleeing from their wrath, especially Jaime's. Bronn and Ser Arys had to grab him and pull him away so he wouldn't try to board the galley and kill every one there. Arrows came again but missed Bronn and only a few found their mark on the other two, and glanced off Jaime and Ser Arys' armor with ease. Bronn and Jaime reached the shore and the fishermen were already there, running fast. Ser Arys came last, slowed by his heavy armor, and then they moved swiftly out of arrow range along the shore. After a while they realized no one was following them.

"My ship," lamented the captain. "My beautiful ship. Gone. Bugger."

"It was a piss bucket," said one fisherman, with an accent from Braavos, Bronn knew. He had served with many men from the east.

"I'll get you a new ship," Jaime told the man. "A bigger, better one." The captain seemed happier after that.

It took them a long thirty minutes to walk around the base of the Red Keep and they stayed out in the water from the shore because Bronn said some wildfire was still buried there. When they reached the Mud Gate and the wharves it was still a chaos of displaced humanity. Of course, their horses were already gone from the wharves, and they had expected that. Many people asked them what to do.

"Stannis is in charge now," Bronn told one old man. "He's at the Iron Gate. Go ask him."

"You bastards burned our city!" lamented a fat man who looked like he had some wealth.

"You're alive," Jaime told him. "Consider yourself lucky. Now get the hell out of our way or we'll cut our way through you."

They found some gold cloaks in the crowd, about ten, and Jaime ordered them to follow him and they did so. They got out of there swiftly and stayed close to the Blackwater as they headed upstream. The fishermen that helped them followed them and a long weary hour or so later, they found the army, near the first bridge.

It seemed as if a celebration was going on. The outer guards they met told them of a great victory, that they had routed Stannis' cavalry, and the survivors were fleeing west or had fled across the river and the Mountain was giving chase. Jaime ordered the fishermen and gold cloaks to stay there and told the guards to find them some food. Then they headed for where the guards had said Ser Kevan's command post was located. As they walked they saw the army was weary but happy at least. Men were eating and drinking water and wine and were sitting around fires getting warm from the chilly night air and dampness. Bronn suddenly realized it had stopped raining. He had been wet for so long he hadn't even noticed it.

They came into the open air command post where they found a fire and Ser Kevan and the other commanders and the Queen and Tyrion and Lord Varys, who were all in deep conversation. Little Tommen was sitting on a log by Shae, and he seemed to be better and was giggling a bit. Bronn also saw two of the Kingsguard here in their distinctive armor, looking a bit black and dented now. It was Ser Preston and Ser Mandon, who had somehow fought their way out of the city. They stood close by, one near Cersei and one near Tommen.

A sudden hush fell as Ser Jaime's small group came into the circle of light made by the fire. Cersei looked at her brother.

"Joffrey?" she asked, one word, the implications of the answer well-known to all present.

Jaime didn't even look at her and went straight to Tommen and stood in front of him and dropped to one knee and they had their answer. Cersei gasped and let out a cry of anguish and her uncle hugged her. Bronn guessed they had put aside their differences Tyrion had mentioned. Now everyone knew what had happened and Ser Arys and the other two Kingsguard fell to one knee besides Jaime and then Tyrion faced Tommen and did so as well and Ser Kevan and the other commanders and Lord Varys did it too. Shae came off the log and stepped back and knelt beside the little boy and then Bronn dropped to one knee as well, figuring he'd be a real rotten cunt if didn't do so, even though he cared not for kings or queens. Cersei was the last to fall to one knee, as if not ready to believe her oldest son was dead, but finally she did as well.

Ser Jaime pulled out his sword and placed it in front of him on the ground. The other armed men did the same. Bronn didn't want to do it, but felt the weight of the occasion and thought, what the hell, it means nothing to me anyway.

Little Tommen sat on the log and was utterly confused by all that was happening around him.

"Ser Uncle," he said in his small boy's voice. "Where is Joffrey?"

"Your Grace," Jaime said to his son. "The King, your brother, is dead. I name you King Tommen Baratheon, the First of Your Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm. I pledge my sword to your life and will not rest until your house is avenged."