Game of Thrones: Oath of Iron and Fire-Chapter 37: The Looming Shadow of War

High up in the tower of the Gunpowder Grass Manor, Gendry, Handsome, Steel Fist, Lance, Black Billy, Dick the Maker, and Qyburn gathered together. The shadow of war loomed over the manor, and Governor Joy's retribution was imminent.

"Governor Joy is coming for real this time!" Qyburn said.

"According to our informants in Myr, Joy has hired the Brave Companions and is recruiting adventurers and wandering mercenaries all over Myr. It's a considerable force! Their movements are so bold that everyone in Myr knows about it."

"That's for the best. What I fear most is not the attack, but the Myrish sealing us off," Gendry said with a smile. "Since the Myrish are coming to us, we won't have to tire our horses with a long march." A blockade was more terrifying than an attack.

If the Myrish sealed off the coastline and allied with the bandit mercenaries from Crown Town, that would be truly insurmountable. But the Myrish's Achilles' heel was their divided loyalties, which was precisely the Wolf Pack's opportunity.

"The Brave Companions!" Handsome was familiar with the name. "A collection of criminals, rapists, pedophiles, and exiles!"

Gendry was also aware of the group; they were the mercenaries who later cut off the Kingslayer's arm, though they didn't live to cross the Narrow Sea to Westeros.

"The Brave Companions! A bunch of jesters and criminals!" Dick the Maker chuckled. "Speaking of notorious, they're probably only on par with the Second Sons."

"Notoriety is still a form of fame. They may be jesters and criminals, but their fighting strength is not bad. After all, even a gang of scoundrels is still an army. The Brave Companions have managed to maintain a respectable level of combat effectiveness."

"Let's crush these jesters!" Steel Fist said. "Mercenaries and adventurers are disorganized. Once we break the Brave Companions, the others will fall apart."

"Let's find a way to take them all out. Kill all the mercenaries of the Brave Companions. These criminals and pedophiles have lived long enough! The Wolf Pack has principles; we don't have time to harbor a bunch of criminals. As for the other bandit mercenaries and adventurers, they come and go as they please!" Gendry clenched his fist.

It was safer to confront the Myrish forces at the Gunpowder Grass Manor, but guerrilla warfare and ambushes outside the border were the most advantageous way to wage war. Minimizing the damage to their territory and using war victories to attract more supporters.

"Should we use a strategy of blunting the enemy's edge or go for a direct assault?" Gendry had also considered this. The other six kingdoms of Westeros favored confrontations, while the tactics of blunting the enemy's edge and guerrilla warfare were commonly used by the Dornish.

The Dornish army chose to avoid large-scale direct combat, relying on light infantry and excellent horses for raids, while also using the harsh local climate to wear down the enemy. Due to the intense heat and lack of water, large armies found it extremely difficult to march and resupply in Dorne.

"Ambushes and mobile warfare are better," Gendry said. After all, he didn't have the geographical and natural advantages of Dorne. The Disputed Lands were fertile and rich, and his manor and the freed slaves of the Free Army were newly submissive.

"The Myrish fleet will attack us from the coastline, but their route is rugged, and they can't seal us off. Most likely, these mercenaries will still take the main road and advance overland!" Handsome analyzed, using his remaining arm to scribble on the map with a pencil, drawing circles.

"My idea is this! First, scouts and rangers were to gather intelligence on the eastern coastline and southern Crown Town, to intercept messengers and avoid being attacked on three fronts," Gendry said, looking at the map as if to master every terrain and feature.

War was a combination of intelligence, logistics, and organization, and a major battle was the ultimate test of a commander's war-fighting abilities.

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"Then we set up ambushes on the outskirts, aiming to move north and annihilate them in one fell swoop! Handsome will be in charge of holding the rear, Steel Fist and Black Billy, along with Dick the Maker, will lead the longbowmen and shield bearers in ambush. You will lead the Free Army. Lance and I will lead the Wolf Pack in a surprise attack."

"I support the commander's proposal!"

"Then let's do it!"

The commanders agreed with the commander's proposal, after all, the most difficult charge was led by Gendry himself, which was his style.

"Two hundred archers, I think we'll give these guys a good show!" Black Billy said, leading twenty archers from the Wolf Pack, most of whom were freed slaves selected from the Free Army.

The longbowmen mostly used Myrish crossbows, followed by Eastern double-curved composite bows made of animal horn and sinew. The finest purpleheart bows were the most expensive, and the goldenheart bows were rare and hard to purchase.

Myrish crossbows were easier to train for, didn't require too much specialized long-term learning, and were also the cheapest.

"The infantry and shield bearers must hold their ground!" Gendry instructed. "The cavalry will serve as the main reserve and assault force. I need you to delay as much time as possible!"

"Don't worry!" Steel Fist promised. "As long as there are still men in my position, we will fight to the death."

...

The Myrish expeditionary force left Myr. This army of about a thousand men included the Brave Companions and a motley crew of mercenaries and adventurers from the city of Myr.

The leader of the Brave Companions commanded his mercenary band, while the majority were led by Magister Joy's nephew, Jorah. He was an officer of the Myrish guard and had some experience.

"Is such a bizarre force a match for the Wolf Pack?" Commander Jorah thought to himself.

He saw the men of the Brave Companions under the banner of the blood-horned black goat. At the front rode a tall, rail-thin man, Vargo Hoat, the leader of the Brave Companions.

His long, dark beard stretched almost from his chin to his waist, making his gaunt face appear even longer. His mount was a strange black-and-white spotted horse, with a helmet shaped like a goat's head made of black iron hanging from the saddle horn.

Around his neck was a chain made of coins of various sizes, shapes, and materials. These coins represented the places where he had fought.

Next came men with braids and bells, dark-skinned riders on black-and-white spotted horses; spearmen; archers with painted faces; short, hairy men with furry shields; black men in robes made of bird feathers; a thin jester in a green-and-pink checkered costume; swordsmen with dyed green, purple, and silver mustaches; pikemen with multicolored tattoos on their faces; a tall, thin man in a monk's robe; and another, looking ill, in a leather cloak edged with long golden hair.

Commander Jorah spurred his horse to catch up with Vargo, suppressing the discomfort in his heart. "Lord Vargo, perhaps we should wait outside the Gunpowder Grass Manor. I feel it would be best to wait until the fleet's men come over from the coastline and our forces are united."

Governor Joy had sought the help of his captain allies, but these men were slow to act. Their fleet's landing was far slower than the mercenaries' advance. Even so, Jorah still hoped to wait for the fleet to set sail.

"Ha, what are you afraid of?" Vargo said nonchalantly. "I took your gold, sure, sure I'll solve, solve these wolf cubs for you." His mouth seemed to be chewing something constantly, so he spoke indistinctly and drooled incessantly.

"My lord, the Wolf Pack is not to be underestimated. Their numbers may be small, but the fierceness of the Northmen is well-known in many places. Especially their leader, a brutal knight."

"Fear, fear what?" Vargo waved his necklace. "These are all the places I've fought, fought! I'll chop off the wolf cubs' hands and feet." He often mutilated prisoners by cutting off their limbs, which earned him the nickname "The Butcher."

"And your monk there, I hope he stops harassing the boys in my troop. They are soldiers, not boys from the perfumed gardens," Jorah said, looking at Vargo and suppressing his discomfort.

"Urt likes that sort of thing. I'll scold him. But those who offer themselves, I can't, I can't... control that."

Commander Jorah's heart sank. He couldn't forcefully command the mercenaries, and these mercenaries had a high opinion of themselves.