-Chapter 94-

-29th day of the 2nd moon of the year 301 AC-

-POV Ronnet Connington-

As I finally saw the gates of Red Lake castle open, I slowly smiled before sharply tugging on my reins to enter the castle at a gallop with a confident air.

I quickly reached the gates of the castle, where Loras Tyrell stood, his face smeared with blood, kneeling on the ground, his head bowed before me.

"Who gave you the order to betray Tywin Lannister? Your father? Your grandmother? Or perhaps your sister?" I said as I pulled on the reins to halt my horse in front of him.

"No one," he said, then quickly added: "My sister Margaery convinced me that pledging allegiance to the rightful, just, and virtuous sovereign that you are was the best course of action for our House."

"That was mostly the only course of action," I said, observing him for a few seconds, sensing and savoring the discomfort I caused him, before finally saying:

"Rise, Ser Loras. You have rendered me and the realm as a whole a great service."

'Let us start afresh,' I thought, determined to honor my word and let the Tyrells live.

"Since you first joined the war efforts of the usurper Tommen Waters, I imagine that you and your family will understand that the territories I conquered will remain the property of the Crown."

"I will inform my father," said Loras Tyrell without further questioning me.

'I forget that he saw what I was capable of back then,' I thought, smiling slightly and feeling a sense of relief.

'The war is finally over,' I thought, for with Tywin Lannister's death and the Tyrells' surrender, all obstacles barring my path had suddenly disappeared.

'Now, I just have to march back with the combined armies of the Tyrells and my own to subdue the Westerlands,' I told myself, also sparing a thought for my son, who would have to face his best friend.

I sighed softly, the fire that had just been lit suddenly extinguished, for I knew that in battle, there were very few chances for anyone to emerge alive.

'And I had ensured my son's safety, so...'

---

-POV Tommen Baratheon-

"Your Grace, the road is blocked," said one of my scouts as he galloped back.

"How far?" I asked, intrigued but also slightly wary.

'Perhaps this is a way for the local lords to defend themselves,' I thought, still intrigued, as I didn't believe they were loyal enough to Ronnet to fight outside their walls, in the Kingswood, to the death.

'And certainly not against my immense army,' I thought, feeling no pressure from the small armies of lords who had stayed on their lands in the Stormlands, for my army, numbering over 80,000 soldiers, was ready to crush everything in its path.

"About a hundred meters from our current position," said the knight whose name I hadn't remembered.

"Very well, take some men with you and…"

Swiish Swiish Swiish

"Aaaaaaaaaaaahhhh," screamed a man, drawing my attention.

I was surprised to see an arrow pierce his leg and two others strike his chest as he collapsed, still alive but in unbearable pain.

Swiish Swiish Swiish

A second rain of arrows pierced our ranks, and I pinpointed their origin.

"We're under attack!" soldiers screamed, running everywhere in utter panic.

"Raise your shields, you useless bunch of…" yelled an officer before falling silent as an arrow pierced his throat.

The unfortunate man tried to clutch at his throat but collapsed, utterly helpless, dead at the hands of an unknown enemy.

'An invisible enemy.'

"RAISE YOUR DAMN SHIELDS!" Sandor yelled at the soldiers around us, who were all looking for a way out instead of trying to fight or even defend themselves.

"Your Grace, we must protect you," said Ser Balon, shielding me from an arrow aimed at my head, snapping me out of my near-trance state.

'I could have dodged it,' I thought, as I had perfectly seen the arrow's trajectory, but I was so overwhelmed by all the sounds, the noise, the panic, and everything else that I didn't know how to react.

'There's no time to hesitate,' I thought, raising my sword high and pulling on my horse's reins to make it rear up, drawing the attention of the soldiers around me.

"SOLDIERS," I shouted, my voice carrying far and momentarily halting the panic that had overtaken my men.

"Follow your king," I cried simply before charging into the woods, followed by my guard, made up of royal guards, knights assigned to me by my mother, and various knights forming my close horseback retinue.

"Follow the KING!!!" an officer shouted before being joined by all the nearby soldiers, who suddenly regained their fighting spirit.

'This is the kind of king I will be, the kind of king people would follow anywhere, a great king who inspires courage, not fear,' I thought, feeling a growing sense of anticipation.

After several meters, I frowned because, even as I entered the woods, I still couldn't see our enemies.

Craaack

"Huuuuuuuuhiiiiiiihu"

"Your Grace!!!"

'Damn,' I thought, seeing my horse impaled on all sides by the wooden stakes of the trap it had fallen into.

'Luckily, it's a sturdy stallion; with any other horse, I would undoubtedly be dead right now,' I thought, jumping off my mount and grabbing the edge of the pit to climb back up.

"Your Grace, we must retreat and send more scouts. This ambush was clearly meant to lure us into further traps."

I slowly shook my head, furrowing my brows, then wondered aloud:

"What if we weren't their target?"

Unconsciously, driven by the growing sense of dread within me, I spoke out loud.

"If that's the case, then they must be attacking the rear of the column," said Ser Balon firmly, exuding full confidence in his assessment.

"Then let's go. We have no time to waste," I said, realizing that if the ambush at the head of the column was just a distraction, I might soon face a real massacre.

'Not to mention the men who will choose to flee,' I thought.

---

-15 minutes later-

"What happened?" I asked, arriving at the rear of the column far too late.

A knight from House Manning hurriedly knelt before me and said:

"The attack was swift. We didn't have time to move before the enemy had already disappeared."

I surveyed the number of soldiers lying lifeless on the ground, holding back the urge to vomit, before asking:

"What are our losses?"

"At least 2,000 men, Your Grace," said the knight, bowing his head in shame.

"Excuse me?!", I said, unable to accept the number.

'We lost over 2,000 soldiers when we've barely entered the woods,' I thought, completely shocked by the scale of the losses.

'At this rate, it will take us more than one, maybe even two weeks to get out of the Kingswood.'

'We can't keep advancing in such a stretched-out column,' I thought, as it had taken us more than fifteen minutes to reach the end of the line.

"Make sure the men march at a quick pace and tighten the ranks of the army. We cannot let our troops lose morale, and we mustn't spend too much time in the Kingswood," I said to one of the senior officers accompanying me.

He nodded and then said: "It would be wiser to send out more scouts, Your Grace."

"How many scouts are you planning to send this time?" I asked.

"Twice as many as before," he said confidently.

I thought for a moment before shaking my head and saying:

"No, send three times as many, or even more if necessary. We cannot allow ourselves to be taken by surprise again or fall into these kinds of ambushes in the future. We must leave the Kingswood strong if we're to take Bronzegate."

"Understood, Your Grace," he said before galloping off to issue his orders.

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