Reform

I was in the midst of sparring against Qarro when Myles Toyne approached me with his arms folded behind his back and a broad smile on his face. Upon noticing, both me and the much larger Braavosi broke apart. "Legs further apart, Titan. Don't really want to lose your balance and be thrown to the floor, do you? I know Griffin here know's some ways against those larger and stronger than himself. And you, Young Griff, try not to get hit."

I bowed my head, wryly thanking him for his sage counsel.

Blackheart turned to Drahar. "Mind if I borrow Griffin here? I know he's training and getting humbled before the lads, but I need a word with him. I shan't be long and you can give him some more beatings afterwards."

"Of course, captain-general. How could I refuse?" Master Drahar ordered Qarro off and for the Darkstone brothers to take our place. Both entered the sparring grounds smirking.

I, on the other hand, was thankful to be taken off and silently thanked Myles as I was escorted away. While my martial skills were improving by the day, no part of me was free of bruises. Pain makes you stronger, was a saying I've heard and I hoped so, else it would have been for nothing. I wasn't just being beaten into being a good soldier. True to his word, Blackheart taught me leadership though he wouldn't have me skip other lessons to compensate for it. The captain-general would repeatedly drill into my head the importance of continuing my lessons as a normal soldier, general and future king. My lessons with Haldon and Septa Lemore continued, though Jon Connington no longer taught me for he had his own duties. Once, when I'd been little and living in a tiny house on the outskirts of London, I much preferred the idea of being a prince than king; in the stories princes went on all the adventures and had none of the responsibility, even if they had to marry a princess at the end which was something that didn't appeal to me. I almost scoffed at my past self. I was wiser now and, as a result, I didn't want to be royalty. Not because I didn't want power. Screw that. I had ambitions and desired power and authority. Both were needed to replace an established political system into a more modern nation state. I never got the appeal nor could I understand why people romanticised the idea of a reluctant ruler. Robert Baratheon was a reluctant king and he sure as hell was not someone I'd want as monarch. Regardless, being king would simply paint a target on my back. Being the power behind the throne would be a better alternative.

Entering the tent made of cloth-of-gold, we both took a seat. On the table was my chess set of ivory and onyx. They were beautifully detailed, with the only difference being that bishops had been renamed septons for there was no such thing as bishops in this world. Despite having a short life, chess is now considered a game for the nobility and wannabe strategists like myself.

I should really brand and sell it. Make myself a mint. It was a shame patents didn't exist. Though I could always invent them too . . .

Myles Toyne ran a calloused hand through his dark-hair and smiled at me. While he was a homely man, he did one of the most genuine smiles I'd ever seen. "Desire a game?"

More than eager for another victory, I accepted. The captain-general really enjoyed chess and played regularly against Harry and Lysono, or me when we had the time. I always won but Myles was a fast learner and I wagered he'd soon be my equal or even surpass me. I went first, moving my knight past the line of pawns.

"So my lord, you wanted to speak with me?" While he wasn't a lord of anything, he liked the title. Despite the Golden Company being more meritocratic than most, flattery and blood still got you places. I was a prime example of that.

"You desired to speak with me, lad. You asked something when I didn't have the time. I have time now. So . . ."

I nodded, thanking him. Running a hand through my hair, I wondered how to best begin. I had never been one for thinking on my feet. "There are some improvements I believe may aid the Golden Company."

Toyne didn't look up at me as he planned his move. His hand rested on a pawn. "While you do make good games, lad, I doubt you know what's needed to properly run an army. I won't deny your suggestion outright, if that's what you fear. I know you're smart. Though I do wonder what you've to put forth that generations of officers haven't already suggested."

I took a breath, feeling sweat on my hands. "I thank you for giving me the opportunity." Christ, why does this feel like an interview? "After spending time here, I believe there are various ways the Golden Company can be improved upon. While they may cost a bit of coin to implement, I know it'll be worth it in the long run."

Myles eyed me warily before moving his pawn up two spaces, leaving his king open at an angle. "Long run? While I don't deny we invest in our force so we receive the very best, we still need to make a profit and just how long is long? Anything can happen between those two points. But I'll hear you. Haldon has nothing but praise for your abilities."

Once more, I thanked him, allowing myself a shy smile. "Seeing as we already have a dedicated corps of spies headed by Lysono Maar for the purposes of espionage, scout as well as to influence local politics, I believe we can do likewise with a specialised corps of engineers. They'll be useful in our operations when it comes to constructing fortifications, siege engines and more complex construction like laying down bridges over rivers that can't be crossed. Not to mention breach enemy defences. This is only one idea of many."

Myles Toyne rubbed his chin, his eyes remaining fixed on the board. "I very much get what you mean to say. But I question why, at least currently. It's unwise to take fortifications and that's not the type of warfare we fight. We surround, cut them off and force our enemy to surrender. Less casualties that way."

"What about Qohor when it failed to pay a contract?"

"That was when the Company was young. The Qohorik were fools and we breached the walls. The fortifications were undermanned and the leadership arrogant. Once the gates were open, the city was easy pickings."

Unsullied defending fortifications is easy pickings? I had my doubts before, but upon hearing of the eunuchs failing to defend a city with so many force multipliers really made me doubt the repute of the Unsullied. "It'll be easier if there's a dedicated group to handle it," I defended my point. "While we don't crack cities or fortresses open here, engineers will improve our camps, make siege engines when they're needed. Not just for taking cities, but scorpions that can be used on the battlefield. We won't need to outsource engineers for we'll already have them. Whether a handful or a hundred, I urge you to follow with my suggestion."

"Aegon," he said, voice low. "I understand what you're saying. But we currently don't require it. In the Disputed Land we don't take cities. They surrender and give us tribute. We leave and pillage the countryside. That is how we operate—"

I ran a hand through my hair, almost angrily. "In Westeros they'll hide in their castles and don't give a single shit about the smallfolk or the land burning around them. We could have people who can breach castles, construct trebuchets and smash those castle walls. We can mine underneath and bring the walls tumbling down. It's to make sure we have the skills when needed so we don't have our trousers down when we don't."

He looked at me, grinned, then moved a piece. "I see the dragon blood is flaring." He chuckled and I moved my knight, taking his pawn. "Perhaps you're right. May I ask where the idea came from?"

The Roman Legion. While my knowledge of history wasn't flawless – shocking I know – they were the first army I was aware of that had a dedicated group of engineers. Such feats included constructing a double wall around a besieged city in Gaul and before them was Alexander the Great turning an island into a peninsula because they refused to surrender. Such feats were unheard of in this world and I wanted the Golden Company to be comparable of those feats. I knew they wouldn't be on the same level, at least not in my lifetime. Didn't mean I couldn't try. Such skills would be important in Westeros with the Golden Company bound to be outnumbered many times over. I'd need all the force multipliers I could get. That was why Essos was such a good starting point and launch pad. It had a large population, more advanced technology than Westeros and enough industry to properly equip such a force.

It was also rich. So very rich.

"Volantene siege tactics," I lied.

Myles nodded, moving a piece to defend his king. "I'll take your words into consideration, lad. That I can promise."

"And I thank you for humouring it," I showed a slight grin and made my moved by horse out the way. "There are other things as well. Medical corps, as well as re-equipping all the men with entrenching tools and pickaxes."

Myles snorted. "Not only a specialised corps, you want all the army to be engineers?"

"In part," I grinned cheerfully. "Entrenching tools and pickaxes will improve our camps. I know some already use them and are well-versed. If all can be trained to build and dig to even a limited extent, our ability to rise up fortifications will be improved." Not to mention roads. The roads in Westeros – from what I heard – were little more than dirt paths. Which was surprising for how large the landmass was. Even the Inca's – who didn't even have written language – had better roads than Westeros and their empire was all built along steep hills. Speaking of which . . . they did have good ideas when it came to logistics . . .

"Possible." Myles bobbed his head thoughtfully. "What you're saying reminds me of New Ghis and Slaver's Bay. Their legions were taught the benefits of entrenchment. The Unsullied likewise. All are taught the art of digging and using the earth to create mounds which they implant sharpened stakes. We made a point to ensure they didn't return to their camps."

"Exactly what I'm aiming for," I announced, moving my piece where I was one step closer to winning the game. "Westerosi armies are full of cavalry, aren't they? But do you think it'll work?" I may know how historical armies on earth fought but I didn't know how effective they'll be here. I'd never fought a war before, let alone command. My idea could either revolutionise the Golden Company into a world class war machine like the armies of so many self-insert fanfics, or I may cripple my own army. Military reform didn't always work and even the best ideas would fail if not implemented correctly.

"What you say is very well feasible. Ideas are one thing, putting them into practise is another beast entirely." Toyne then smiled. "Let's hope you're as good at reorganisation as you are with games."

"Let's hope," I repeated with a slight grin. Then my expression faltered slightly. "My lord . . . may I ask you something?"

"You can ask me anything, lad. What is it? Does something concern you?"

I sipped in some air and thought how to approach this matter. "I've got a question about Jon Connington. He's, well, we haven't spoken for a while. A proper conversation you know. Jon's a good man. I'm worried about him."

Myles looked up at me from where his eyes had been fixed on the game throughout our conversation. "I'm aware of your current relationship. I know that Jon has been busy since he's returned to us. Like you, he needs to prove himself. Many still dislike our dear griffin lord so I've put him to work to regain their respect. He still has far to go with many seeing him as an oath-breaker and thief."

"I know we're both busy. But still . . . he just seems . . ."

"He's not mad with you if that's what you believe. He wouldn't be here in the Company if he was mad. Oh, trust me, he was certainly angry with me. I'd done more to earn his ire than you can even dream of. Yet you regularly see him by my side. While our dearest griffin can forgive, there are exceptions such as Varys and your father. Those two he will never forgive. I wouldn't even say he's truly forgiven me." Myles chuckled, using his knight to take my septon. "Believe it or not, it's not my face that's keeping him here in the Company. No it's not."

I allowed myself to smile and Toyne returned the gesture with almost fatherly affection.

"Jon . . . he's never been talkative from what I know of him, nor was he ever open. He's a closed off man, not eager to say what's on his mind. Full of sorrow and regret. When we first met I believed him shy, but inside he feels much. After your time together, I know he won't just leave you. Not now, not ever."

"Perhaps," I allowed, staring at the board. I fidgeted in my seat. "But . . ."

"If you worry, I order you not to. Don't try to rush him. He'll come in his own time, no matter how long that may be."

I pursed my lips. "If you say so."

"I do say so." Blackheart moved his septon and put me into check. "Pay attention, lad. Keep both your mind and eyes open else you may find yourself backed into a corner."

...

I followed Myles Toyne, Jon Connington and several other officers in the tent where we examined the armoury.

Unlike most other free companies that either scavenged what they could from the battlefield or had the men buy their own equipment, the Golden Company had its own smiths, like Rolly, who made a mostly standardised assortment of kit designed to be protective and easily repairable. Unfortunately there were suits of boiled and studded leather as well as ringmail, armour which, while common throughout this world, also triggered me. As soon as I got the chance, I'll replace them with proper riveted mail and gambesons. Speaking of which, might as well standardise the use of brigandine and lamellar for the common soldiery. Yes, that'll be wise. Providing them better equipment would only improve their survivability as well as put them ahead of the Westerosi levies. It wasn't only armour in the tent though, before us were weapons placed in neat rows with servants and young squires tending the mail. Many times I'd been made to rub off the rust and oil the equipment. It was meant to be a humbling experience and one of my duties as a squire. I hated it.

"Here is where the equipment is kept," Connington told me, his pale-blue eyes surveying the tent, looking impressed at what he saw. He gave a gesture and everyone previously inside hurried outside, leaving us alone and able to speak freely.

I nodded, not needing an introduction to the armoury. "Thank you, my lord. I didn't ask you to come with me to list what you've got. I came to say what you should need. I assume the captain-general has told you of my ideas."

"Aye," Flowers muttered, scratching his neck as a fly hovered around him. He lazily waved it away. "You want to change the way the company is organised. How it's equipped. How it operates."

"You are indeed correct, though I'll leave the implementation to you. You're more skilled than I am when it comes to that. I've been reading . . ." that seemed to earn a few eye rolls from the Westerosi. Many of them couldn't read. I understood they were sellswords from a culture that saw learning as something for scribes and maesters. The Essosi, however, had basic skills for the most part and didn't carry the disdain. "I'd been speaking with Ser Myles Toyne and . . . we came up with a few ideas to put forth." I knew one thing that older men didn't like was to be outsmarted by a child and Myles would like the idea of him being a part of it also. "Together we looked at how the Company was organised and what could be changed for the future."

"Which is?" Connington asked me. He was most eager to hear it.

I swallowed. Everyone was staring, wanting to see what I was going to say. "We're all aware the Golden Company takes influence from those it's faced in the past. We share military traditions from various different cultures around the world. We have infantry who use the phalanx of Ghiscari legionary warfare to hold the enemy in place. Archers to weaken from a distance before melee and our cavalry, be it Essosi lancers or Westerosi knights, sweep around the flanks and fuck them hard up the arse."

Flowers laughed, and Harry said, "Don't forget the elephants."

I nodded cheerfully. While I found the elephants awesome, I knew they weren't practical for a sustained war. They were costly to supply and couldn't be easily replaced should they die. I knew the effect Hannibal's elephants had on the Romans but they weren't the deciding factor for his victories. They'd be good with aiding the baggage train though. But if needed, they can serve the part of ultra-heavy cavalry. Flexibility was key and overspecialisation was dangerous. "And working altogether they're worth more than any other army. You and your predecessors learned and incorporated various techniques into their repertoire to maximise the offensive and defensive capabilities of the Company. I would do no different in your place."

"End your praises else you'll make us blush," Harry said, none too warmly. "But how you would assume we should improve? You seem to hold us in high regard. As you should."

"I do hold you in high regard, but to say you should cease improving is a dangerous belief. War is ever changing and it'll be wise to change tactics to properly respond to a threat. One thing I've found and I assume you're aware of, is our flanks. With the tactics they employ, the infantry are in danger without cavalry support. If our cavalry are destroyed or flee the battle, the enemy can smash into our flanks and rear and our formation would crumple."

"Understandable concern, Young Griff," spoke Gorys Edoryen with his dyed ringlets. His accent was thick and his voice was usually mingled with bits of Volantene that, while my language skills were improving, I still couldn't fully understand. "But what is your solution to this problem?" He didn't really seem interested in my concern.

"We have cavalry," Melio said, kitted out in his chainmail armour he wore twenty-four-seven. "We have my lancers who number a three hundred, not to mention Westerosi knights and their squires. Thirteen-hundred cavalry we have and that number's greater than many other Free Companies."

But will it be enough to hold a few thousand knights? I paused for a moment. "You're right about that, commander. But there are other solutions like having a protective screen of infantry to protect our phalanx, equipped with other polearms such as hammers or axes . . ."

I walked over and grabbed a polearm. They were all taller than me with various different heads to suit different purposes. Thanks to me, bills were getting more common, as were poleaxes and polehammers which were among my favourite due to their sheer versatility. If my plans would go through, most infantry will be equipped with them. These weapons weren't all that common in Westeros where swords reigned king. I much preferred the polehammer: an inch-thick oak staff eight foot long, the tip like a dagger. Below the point was a single hammer/axehead on one side and a hook on the other. At the bottom was an iron butt-spike that could be used to cave in plate. It was cheaper than a sword, simpler to use and practical. The perfect primary weapon for infantrymen.

". . . like these." I grinned at them and balanced the weapon that was much taller than me. "These are superior to swords in the hands of infantry and thus should be given to all." Perhaps they can have heavier armour as well, I mused. "For our cavalry, they're all heavy . . . maybe you could count the squires as medium. You need light horse as well."

"Our horsemen can go light when the situation require it."

"I don't doubt that, but having specialised light cavalry will do better. Mounted archers and skirmishers are a good addition to have. Mounted archers are dangerous. Not only can they harass our enemy's flank and rear, they can lure their men with feints or just circle and pepper them with arrows." Maybe performing Parthian shot or cantabrian circles . . . While I'd seen some of the cataphracts drill with bows, they were heavy horse archers and we needed proper light cavalry. "But there is also something else. When I read my histories, the Company's main problem against the Westerosi are the knights. During the Ninepenny kings, I read Ser Barristan broke through the lines."

"Only because the white knight focused on one point," Myles told me. "His mounted contingent burst through and went straight towards the captain-general. Maelys went to intercept, as was his way. If not for Ser Barristan we would have won the day. But even then it only cost the battle, not the war."

It did cost the war though. "In no way do I question the Golden Company's efficiency. The war was strikingly close despite the huge power difference." I earned a few smiles at that. "But it could be further improved upon. War is a constant race of sides learning new ways to kill, as I've said numerous times. The only way we can win this race is to innovate. What doesn't work can be ditched but not forgotten. What does work can be kept and further improved upon."

"I doubt adding more cavalry is your only reason. What are the others?"

I smiled, put the weapon back and walked over to where the bows were. "May I ask how many archers you have," I ask, looking at Harry who, as paymaster, also had a duty to keep track of equipment. The Golden Company did spend a lot of coin improving the condition of their organisation. That was one of the reasons I liked them so much. When faced with an enemy, the Company was flexible enough to improve fairly quickly. The best and most well-funded of organisations did receive the best minds after all.

"Near a thousand," he replied with an eye roll. Homeless Harry didn't like explaining himself to a child, clearly. "The Company so far numbers nine hundred archers. One third are men with double-curved-horn-and-sinew bows. They can be used either mounted or afoot. Another third are crossbowmen. The rest are longbowmen from Westeros, equipped with Dornish yew."

"They are under my command, boy," Black Balaq stated, his massive arms crossed. "The best are my own men. My own people. Fifty with goldenheart longbows. None can dare out range us."

I knew Balaq's own men were used more for sharpshooters then sending volleys. They attacked key targets like officers to disrupt the enemy command structure. A good group to have on my side. "Except siege artillery. I'll mention those later. I recommend there be more archers. Increase the number to as much as possible. If an enemy comes towards us, I'd want them to fight in the shade. A balance between crossbowmen and longbowmen, if you may. The more that die heading towards us, the less enemies we fight."

"How very noble of you," Flowers said with a wicked grin.

I smiled, replying with an artless shrug. "Honour may be the mark of a great man, but so is a tombstone. It isn't a shield. It doesn't stop arrows nor does it block a sword. If they're foolish enough to face us, well, they deserve to die." Honour in warfare is the domain of the dead.

Toyne smiled thinly. "For your age, I'm surprised with your ruthlessness. I don't deny your words. Archers have always been important to the Company. An understated component, I might add. From the way you've spoken, I'd wager you want to fight battles defensively?"

"Indeed. I want the archers to weather the enemies down, then we can smash them with our infantry while supported by the cavalry. But that isn't all. I mentioned artillery. What about a dedicated force involved in siege operations and battles? We can use ballistae, or scorpions if you'll rather they be called that. These will serve to kill targets from long range, further than even our furthest bowmen. Can be used similarly as Balaq's archers, but doesn't take as long to train." That was how the Romans used them, with a range up to four-hundred metres and able to shoot four bolts per minute. They had sixty per legion. I wanted twice as many for the Golden Company. It would be most useful. I'd been researching Westerosi armies and their faulty command structure. The death of a prominent lord or two would hinder their army if not cripple it. It was less based on competence and more whoever commanded the most men. As such, the commanders would bicker amongst themselves with petty grievances and politics getting in the way. "If we are going to take Westeros, as I'm sure is the plan, we need ways to take castles."

"I believe you underestimate how strong castles are," Harry grumbled. "They're not made to look pretty. They are fortresses to stand against any threat. Scorpions won't take them down. You need things like trebuchets."

"Counterweight trebuchet? Then we need some engineers then, don't we." You walked into that one, didn't you? "People skilled enough to build them to take these castles down. The walls, the towers, the gates. I understand your concern with cost. That is understandable. But it would cost more should we be beaten and need to reform the army from the remnants. This is an investment that will benefit us in the long term. Besides, the faster castles fall, the more loot that can take. Doing so would reward you commanders who serve faithfully in service of a Blackfyre."

Balaq snorted, folding his arms. "I speak for myself and others here in that we don't serve the Blackfyres. We serve the Golden Company."

And the Golden Company serves me. "I understand. I know some of you will be doubting me and that's reasonable after my ancestors' failures. I, however, don't intend to fail. I intend to win." There were many who wanted me to lose and I'll have many enemies. Like Bloodraven. I didn't know how, but I needed to find a way to counter magic. I needed someone with proper knowledge of the arcane. But where can I find a mage?

Unlike Young Griff, I was no naïve and headstrong child. I'll not be a dead man walking destined to die thanks to an angry dragon queen, nor would I be a simple plot device. I'll kill those who stand before me. I don't care who they are. Jon Snow, Tyrion Lannister, Daenerys Targaryen, I'll give them no quarter in the wars to come should we come to blows.

Whether I'm fighting gods or kings or fate itself, I will win. That, I declared, was a promise.