Chapter 496: Raid

"Attack!"

The sudden battle cries from all directions alarmed the Western nobles and knights who were in the midst of their merry revelry.

"What's happening?"

Although Stafford wasn't entirely inept, he had ordered his soldiers to intensify their patrols and maintain a strict defense prior to the feast. But the commanders, engrossed in the celebrations, set a poor example, making it hard for the soldiers to stay alert. Their visible victory over the Targaryen forces earlier that day, which sent the latter fleeing, had also fostered overconfidence.

The soldiers of this Lannister battalion, primarily new recruits and Lannisport's garrison, had never encountered White Walkers or the army of the dead, let alone dragons and the Dothraki. Initially, they were apprehensive of the famed Targaryen forces. But after their recent victory, the entire Lannister army, from commanders to foot soldiers, grew complacent.

Oberyn Martell seized this opportunity, feigning defeat to make the enemy underestimate the Targaryen forces. Stafford Lannister, buoyed by this small victory, didn't flee immediately. Now, Oberyn, informed by captured prisoners, knew he was facing Sir Stafford Lannister, Lord Tywin's older uncle.

"Who is this Sir Stafford Lannister?"

Oberyn had been puzzled upon first hearing the name, but prisoners soon informed him that Stafford was Tywin's elder uncle. Sir Stafford's most notable achievements were commanding a thousand Lannister soldiers to fend off Ironborn raiders on the Western shores and eradicating some local bandit groups. But true warfare was different from skirmishes with mere bandits.

Being able to lead tens of thousands without chaos marked a competent commander. Stafford's experience was limited to leading a couple of thousands, and leading twenty thousand was a whole different challenge. Oberyn, as a commander, found Stafford to be an easy adversary. He wouldn't miss this golden opportunity to annihilate over twenty thousand Lannister troops.

The ground trembled with the galloping of hooves and the air was filled with war cries as the Targaryen forces stormed the Lannister camp. Many Westerlanders were caught off guard, some still in slumber. Before they could don their armor or grab their swords, charging cavaliers slit their throats. Tents were upturned, and swords swung relentlessly.

"Attack!"

"Kill these scoundrels!"

"Kill Stafford Lannister!"

The shouts acted like cold water, sobering the drunken Western nobles and knights. The scene was chaotic: knocked over wine bottles, inebriated commanders, and a sense of dread.

"It's a disaster!"

"The Targaryens are back!"

Sandor 'The Hound' Clegane, amidst the chaos, was quick to react. Although he had indulged in wine, he wasn't completely inebriated. He abruptly stood up, overturning the table before him, thereby rousing the other drunken nobles, including the unconscious General Stafford Lannister.

"Damn it! We've been ambushed by the Targaryens!"

"Is this your grand victory?"

Despite his intoxication, The Hound's face was clear, his temper unchecked as he openly berated and mocked, "The great Sir Stafford Lannister? Just hearing about it nearly made me puke." He had grown weary of the baseless adulation for Stafford after a minor victory. The praises had elevated Stafford to the ranks of King Robert and Lord Tywin. The Hound unsheathed his massive sword and struck down a panicking Lannister soldier.

"Retreat! Everyone, fall back!"

The Westerlands' nobles and knights, in their confusion, hurriedly escorted the barely coherent Stafford Lannister away from the campsite.

"Order a retreat! All men, fall back!"

Stafford, now somewhat aware, realized the gravity of the situation. However, as the army's commander, he knew the ins and outs of warfare better than anyone, including the mocking 'Hound'. Stafford was aware that a single raid wouldn't annihilate the entire army. There was still a chance for redemption. He aimed to minimize losses, stabilize the troops, and then fall back to Hayford Hall. Losing Hayford would open up the path to Lannisport, and no matter how many heads he had, they wouldn't be enough to appease Lord Tywin's wrath.

Stafford quickly issued commands, rallying the troops. The Lannisters suffered heavy casualties and began retreating towards Hayford Hall. The Targaryen forces pursued them briefly before halting.

The Targaryen's sudden stop gave Stafford some relief, but a foreboding sense gripped him. "Why aren't they pursuing further?" he mused aloud, glancing at the dense woods around. But then, from inconspicuous locations, flickers of fire began to ignite.