Chapter 101

Amid the rhythmic pounding of the battering ram against the gate, Aegor suddenly found the answer to a question that had been troubling him earlier. In terms of defensibility, the Bloody Gate was still inferior to the Sword Gate. The latter overlooked the approach to Shu with a commanding height. From ancient times until now, no attacker had ever managed to position such a massive battering ram beneath the Sword Gate.

Could this slight difference determine the outcome of the war?

Barrels of oil fell around the battering ram, ignited either by fuses or flaming arrows, erupting into roaring flames that engulfed the ram’s head. Soldiers splattered with burning oil screamed and fled from the protection of shields and wooden planks. The lucky ones managed to extinguish the flames by rolling on the ground before retreating back under the siege engine's cover. The unlucky ones were struck down by the defenders’ stones and arrows—until the defenders, exposed while firing, were themselves picked off by the thousand archers positioned a hundred meters away.

Every second, men were wounded or killed.

Thud. Thud.

The siege engine’s ram was now entirely surrounded by flames, but the vehicle’s body was covered in a layer of fire-resistant, water-doused thick hide, which delayed the spread of the fire. This allowed the soldiers behind the engine to keep pushing, trying a few more strikes. Yet with more barrels falling, it was clear the siege engine wouldn’t last much longer.

Aegor didn’t want to keep watching. This assault would almost certainly end with the destruction of the battering ram. So far, the total casualties on both sides might barely reach triple digits—a tiny fraction of the over one hundred thousand soldiers involved. A loss rate of less than one percent was negligible from a strategic perspective, but the soldiers caught in the flames and bloodshed beneath the gate would vehemently disagree.

The narrow battlefield limited the scale of the fighting and the potential for heavy casualties. Yet the ferocity of the combat beneath the Bloody Gate and on its ramparts was as intense as any legendary battle throughout history. Every soldier here was the center of their own world. How could one dismiss these front-line fighters as just another “1” in the ten-thousand-strong figure of the army?

To children, war is a distant story. To teenagers, it is the ultimate glory. But Aegor, now a grown man, standing on the battlefield and hearing the moans and screams of the wounded for the first time, truly realized: war was no glorious game.

...

This war hadn’t been started by Aegor, but he was deeply entangled in it. He turned away from the battlefield, intending to return to the camp. Yet at that moment, the soldiers around him erupted into deafening cheers and shouts. Alarmed, Aegor spun around and immediately spotted the reason for the commotion. The head of the flaming battering ram had smashed through the outer gate of the Bloody Gate and was lodged in the opening!

What? The gate was breached already?

Was it because Robert’s new tactics—combining arrow volleys and stone bombardments to suppress enemy fire—were so advanced? Or had the attackers over the past thousand years simply been incompetent?

As cheers erupted like thunder, a group of cavalry clad in Baratheon colors charged straight for the breached gate, determined to secure the breakthrough and prevent the defenders from sealing the opening. The legendary impassable gate of the Bloody Gate seemed poised to fall to the great King Robert!

But faster than the cavalry were the soldiers clustered around the siege engine. They managed to push the now-flaming battering ram clear of the breached gate just before it was completely consumed by fire. Without hesitation, they rushed into the opening themselves.

Who wouldn’t want to claim credit for breaching the gate? A feat like this could earn a knighthood, elevate one to nobility, and even bring honor to future generations.

...

It felt absurd. After so much preparation, the battle was over after a single assault? What happened to the gate that could withstand one man against ten thousand? What about the impregnable fortress of legend? Aegor felt slightly humiliated, but relief outweighed it. No matter what, an early end to the war meant fewer deaths, which wasn’t a bad thing.

Yet just as everyone was laughing bitterly at the anticlimactic conclusion to this month-long campaign, the tide suddenly turned. Within ten seconds of entering the gate, the allied soldiers who had breached it came rushing back out, fleeing for their lives under a hail of stones and arrows. They shouted something as they ran, dragging the Baratheon cavalry back with them. Many were struck down along the way.

The assault had failed. The archers providing cover were ordered to retreat, and the trebuchets halted their bombardment. The siege engines were pulled back out of range of the defenders’ weapons. Except for the burning siege engine at the foot of the Bloody Gate, the first attack was over. Word quickly spread through the ranks and reached Aegor’s ears.

The defenders of the Bloody Gate had sealed the breach with earth and stone.

It was a ruthless and effective countermeasure. The failed first wave had left the commanders, including Robert, stunned. Until a new strategy was devised, Aegor didn’t expect any further action.

...

After this minor twist, things seemed to return to normal. The Bloody Gate was indeed no easy target. Aegor turned away from the front and headed back to the depths of the allied camp and his modest tent.

The so-called "camp" was more like a city built from tents—densely populated enough to rank among the largest cities in Westeros. The only difference was that most of its residents were soldiers and nobles.

To ensure this massive population could live comfortably, merchants had set up shop in the central area between the six regional armies' camps. These merchants offered every imaginable service. Inns, taverns, brothels, and bathhouses—all under canvas roofs—created an almost complete replica of King’s Landing’s commercial district. The only differences were slightly lower service quality and adjusted prices.

Ordinarily, such a lively camp would be unacceptable to the commanders. But the reality was this: the rebels’ main force was trapped behind the Bloody Gate in the Vale of Arryn. Their castles and lands had been occupied by Robert’s loyalists. With constant patrols and scouting, King Robert—a warrior-born leader—had left no opportunity for the enemy to retaliate. Without internal strife, this camp was practically invulnerable.

Perhaps Aegor should set up a temporary Night’s Watch office here?

The chief quartermaster briefly considered the idea but was soon distracted by a commotion ahead. A crowd of soldiers from the six kingdoms, wearing various uniforms, had gathered noisily in front of a tent, apparently competing to purchase something from its owner.

Curious, Aegor decided to delegate. “Casey, go see what they’re fighting over.”

The boy obediently darted into the crowd, slipping through like an eel. Half a minute later, he emerged with an expression of excitement and puzzlement. “My lord, it’s books! The ones we printed!”

...