Chapter 9: Battle of Starpike - Part 1

Quentyn found the weight of his wrought armour pleasantly heavy, bringing back fond memories of his erstwhile life, for it reminded him of his strength and his ability to wear the weight, not only of the metal, but also of the war for which it was worn. His striking figure inspired respect from all the warriors that surrounded him. As for the levies, they watched, open-mouthed with awe as he went around the castle assigning his forces up and down to their positions, his mere presence serving to affirm among those gathered on his behalf at Starpike that they fought for the right side, the right cause and, above all, the right man.

He slowly made his way back to the main hall of the castle, which had been converted into a war council room, and nodded at his commanders for the battle. Sir Manfrey Martell, the castellan of Sunspear, his father's distant cousin and his kinsman. Lord Dayne, the Lord of Starfall and the elder brother of Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning, and their retinues. For the battle of Starpike, the three of them alone, would suffice as the leader's as the rest of the commanders of the Dornish Army were still making their way back from Sunspear, after concluding the meeting with Jon Arryn of the Vale.

"My Prince, we are ready for battle, all our soldiers stand ready for battle," Ser Manfrey Martell replied, to which Quentyn nodded with a serene smile.

"How shall we approach this battle? Shall we endure a siege or sally forth and meet them?" Lord Dayne asked, at which Quentyn looked at the position of the forces on the map before him and began to think.

After a few calculations, he made up his mind and stood up.

"This is the first battle of the new army of Dorne, and we must demonstrate before the world our resolve and our capabilities through this battle," he paused and began to pace around the room, as all the man watched him with keen eyes.

"As you are all aware, by now, the meeting between the Rebellion's envoys and my grandmother will have ended, and the news of our defiance will soon reach Kings Landing. Once this news breaks out, it will be total war between us and the Rebellion. A crisis, that if we do not manage will bring about the end of Dorne as we see it. Only a lot quicker instead of the slow death it would have been over the long run had we bent the knee," here, he paused for effect, and scoffed with derision, while the faces of the listeners tightened.

"To stand against the grand coalition of the Rebellion, we will need to use every last measure of strength available to us. In other words, it will require every man of Dorne to stand together and fight as one. If we fail, Dorne dies. This will be, quite literally, total warfare. I will hereby begin explaining our plan," he continued and stepped up to the life scale map drawn on the floor.

"With Dorne's current resources, we lack the ability to engage in prolonged warfare with the Rebellion and have no chance of engaging them in a meaningless head-on fight. Where they have the advantage of men, material and resources, we must trade that with the advantage of terrain, weather and skill from our end. The Hightower host is a fresh levy, and lacks cohesion, and discipline. Furthermore, it is a host which is made up of many knights and minor commanders who are second and third sons of minor noble houses, eager and thirsty for fame and glory above all. They care more about making a name for themselves and earning fame and fortune rather than victory. We will exploit that flaw. Unlike them, we are a new kind of army, a new breed, of the like that has not been seen before in Westeros, one which is well-trained, well-disciplined, and above all, one where its soldiers will not put personal glory before victory," he paused and looked at his commanders who all nodded stiffly.

They did not need to elaborate. Quentyn's new training methods in the desert camps had thoroughly rooted out all men with such temperament in the army, and they had all been summarily punished, which had driven the message clearly through the minds of the rest of the soldiers of Dorne. Orders were absolute.

"What are we to do, My Lord?" Lord Dayne asked, at which Quentyn moved certain pieces forward and placed them in a formation shaped like a bell in front of the Hightower Host.

"We will deploy the Bell formation. Lord Dayne, you will take charge of the vanguard. I will take overall command with 12,000 men comprised of 4,000 infantry, 6,000 archers and 2,000 cavalries. For the vanguard, out of the 12,000 men you shall take 2,000 infantry and the full 2,000 cavalry, in the standard block formation for the first half of the battle and deploy the stratagem of pockets. At noon, we will deploy the Bell formation, and I will personally enter the field to direct the battle from then onwards. The rest of our force will remain within the castle," Quentyn continued as the Lord of Starfall's eyes went wide.

"My Lord, are you sure?"

"We need to try it out and need to test the cohesion of our own forces. Better to test it against unseasoned levies like the one's in front of us, rather than trying them out against the hardened forces of the Rebellion. We have worked on this formation for a month as you know, with focus on simplicity. Only two things need go right for us to win. Arrogance and Stupidity, things which our enemies possess in abundance."

"As you say, My Lord," Lord Dayne, nodded and walked out of the room with cheers and wishes of encouragement from his fellow nobles along the way.

HIGHTOWER HOST, 2 MILES FROM STARPIKE CASTLE

The Hightower host arrived with great fanfare at the battlefield. Banners of House Tyrell and House Hightower fluttered in the breeze predominantly with a few other banners of minor houses mixed between, trumpets trilled, men and animals alike shone in their armour, cast iron and leather worked together with gold insignia for the nobles, silver for the knights and commanders, and copper markings for the ordinary levies. Horses too, wore mail, commensurate with the station of the warriors who rode them.

All in all, it was an impressive sight. At a hill, 4 miles straight opposite to Starpike castle, and well within the Reach territory, Lord Leyton Hightower, held council. Attending, were his son Baelor, Ser Aerys Oakheart of House Oakheart, Lord Branston Cuy of Sunhouse, his nephew Ser Emmon, Lord Alester Florent of Brightwater Keep, His third brother Ser Colin, and Merrel Florent, Colin's son.

"The scouts report that the Dornish have sallied forth with a host of 4,000 men, while the rest remain holed up in the castle," Lord Hightower replied, even as he moved the necessary pieces denoting said units on the map in front of him.

"They are underestimating us," Alester Florent growled, while most of the others nodded in agreement.

"Or, it could be a feint," replied Ser Baelor as he looked at the deployments with a keen eye.

"Pah, it is a boy who commands the host before us, a green boy, who is playing at being a soldier, we can deal with him easily," Emmon Cuy retorted with a scoff.

"A boy," replied Lord Leyton, "who has single-handedly checkmated the Rebellion with an alliance with the Ironborn and has prevented us from wielding our full might," he concluded, at which there were some murmurs.

"Conjectures, which are yet to be proven, My Lord," Colin Florent retorted, to which the old Lord of Hightower paused.

"That remains to be seen, for now, Lord Cuy, you will command the Vanguard and take the field. There are 4,000 men before us, a mix of infantry and cavalry. You shall take the field with 15,000 men, 10,000 infantry, and the rest of it will be light cavalry, commanded by the members of House Florent. Break the field and ensure that we can reach the walls of the castle so that we can properly invest them in a siege."

"I shall, My Lord," Lord Branston replied, and made his way out of the tent.

THE 1st HALF OF THE BATTLE OF STARPIKE

At the third hour of the morning, the Hightower host assembled, and looked askance at the Dornish forces arrayed before them. 2000 infantry and 2000 cavalry were arrayed in a formation of square blocks. Against them, Branston Cuy arranged his forces in a wedge-shaped formation and the order was given.

"VANGUARD, ADVANCE!"

With a thunderous roar, the 5,000 light horsemen led by Alester Florent and his Kinsmen charged forward. The very earth trembling and shaking with the hoofbeats of so many horses. On the opposite side, Lord Dayne similarly advanced with 2000 horsemen to meet the charge head-on.

With a thunderous clash, the two sides met. Horses and men collided with each other breaking bodies like water upon rock. The air was rife with screams of the wounded and the dying as well as the frenzied tones of the fresh levies who had found themselves thrown head-first into a meat grinder of a battle.

From his headquarters, Leyton Hightower watched the advance of the Tyrell cavalry with a grim visage.

"MM…They are not doing too bad, My Lord," Ser Arys Oakheart replied, as he watched the battle alongside the old general.

Indeed, the Wedge-shaped charge of the Tyrell cavalry had sliced through the centre of the Dornish Vanguard and was pressing forward by the minute. From their vantage point atop the walls of Starpike, Ser Manfrey Martell came to the same conclusion.

"Not good, the balance seems to be favouring the Tyrell soldiers!"

"No need to panic, uncle," Quentyn replied smoothly, as he came next to him, "There was a reason why I sent in only two thousand of our cavalry against 5,000 of theirs, now watch, and witness the fruits of our training."

Even as he spoke, on the battlefield, Lord Dayne had begun to deploy his men according to the strategy.

"Have the 2nd squad on the left, close in a bit more. Have the 5th and 6th push out into the enemy's left. Let the 7th slide left, and let the 8th slide right, and have the rest fall back 500 paces. Their charge has walked right in, now clear the path in front of them, and envelop them from both sides, and start grinding them down."

His men followed his orders to the letter.

"GO GO GO! Break into their left flank!"

"Hoooahh!"

"8th squad, Charge!"

Slowly, the din of the battle began to ebb. Meanwhile on the Tyrell side, Lord Cuy took stock of the situation, "Are the Dornish beginning to push us back?"

Meanwhile, Lord William Dayne was preparing to turn the tide.

Seems that the Prince was correct, when he stated that the men of Dorne are like the sand, our mobility is our greatest asset after all. Soldiers like these might lack the sudden explosive strength that a heavy cavalry charge may gain, but in exchange, neither will they collapse easily. It is for this reason, that despite being outnumbered we are able to hold down the Tyrell's. Then I suppose, it is time for me to begin.

As he unsheathed his sword, he barked out a command, "Gerold, gather 500 men around me, we strike now!"

With that, the Lord of Starfall began a ferocious charge into the enemy lines, his sword cleaving man and horse alike in his path and leaving none alive.

With a roar, the 500 men looped around the attacking Tyrell cavalry, and swerved suddenly to the right and charged into their flank with a thunderous impact.

"They have pushed them back! Not just that, but they are going on the offensive!" Manfrey Martell whispered in shock as Quentyn just smirked in smug satisfaction.

On the field, William Dayne had identified the enemy commander, a knight wearing a yellow tabard and holding his ground with a core group of a hundred horsemen around him. Without giving him any respite, William Dayne tore into his flank and after parrying a strike from the man's blade, he knocked it away, and before the man could recover, he beheaded the man with a backhanded swing of his blade.

The head of Ser Emmon Cuy flew into the air, with horrifying screams of shock from his companions accompanying it, and his company broke and began a general retreat. The left wing of the Tyrell advance was broken.

At the Tyrell Army's headquarters, the news was received with dismay.

"General, Ser Emmon Cuy has been killed!"

"What?!"

"We have lost a commander already?!"

"SER! New report! Ser Colin Florent has also been killed!"

"At least 21 knight commanders have been killed as of now!"

"The left wing is breaking down, there are hardly any leaders left! Lord Alester Florent is trying to desperately rally the remaining men."

Leyton Hightower was speedily going through the various reports and trying to form a coherent picture of the current battlefield.

Our army is a fresh levy, yes, but still, we had hoped that having seasoned knights and well-known Lords as commanders would offset the balance, and that they would be able to maintain control in the battlefield. Within the 15 units that comprise of the vanguard, almost nine of them had fresh and newly minted knights as commanders. It couldn't be helped as most of the seasoned commanders are with the Tarly army returning from Storm's End … And now, nearly two-thirds of the commanders are dead?

Could it be … that they are deliberately targeting our commanders and all the known knights to make the vanguard leaderless? If that is the case … then …

Immediately, he turned around and barked a new set of orders.

"Ser Aerys, Baelor, both of you are to charge down there and rally the remaining troops, ensure that you have two detachments guarding you at all times. The Dornish are leaving the levies alone and are deliberately targeting the commanders … take care to …," he was interrupted as the sound of a huge commotion reached his ears.

He turned around to see a perplexing sight.

The sounds of large bells ringing wildly could be heard all over the battlefield. In front of the perplexed Tyrell Army, the rampaging Dornish cavalry began to retreat.

"They are retreating when they have the field? Why?" Baelor Hightower asked in surprise, as the rest of the commanders seemed equally flummoxed.

Meanwhile, in the field, Alester Florent used the momentary respite and began to rally forth the men and began to bring a halt to the ongoing rout.

"Up there, on the castle walls!" Ser Aerys Oakheart shouted in alarm, and all eyes turned to the walls of Starpike, where they could see soldiers of the Dornish Army wheeling out siege engines and load huge jars on the catapults.

Before the command post could set out a warning, the catapults loosened their load, and dozens of jars, each the size of a small pony rose through the air and crashed into the middle of the battlefield, clearly delineating the two forces.

The jars burst with a thunderous impact, and out of them rose a thick hazy smoke, clearly obfuscating the battlefield. The bombardment continued relentlessly as more and more jars were thrown about, and the smoke became so much, that for a few minutes, the gargantuan castle of Starpike was itself obscured from view.

"Order a general halt and tell all forces to fall back by two thousand yards, now!" Leyton Hightower ordered in a tone which brooked no opposition, as messengers raced out and got on their mounts and began to ride towards the commanders in the field to relay the message.

The commanders of the Tyrell Army did not have to wait for long, and when the smoke cleared, they saw a sight that took their breaths away. The Dornish lines had reorganized themselves. More than 10,000 men had come out of the castle gates to set themselves in formation.

From what they could see, there was a wall of infantry nearly 4,000 strong, with half of them pushing forward wooden palisades, and creating a veritable wall to protect the men behind them. The other 2,000 had been placed to protect the men holding the palisades, and the remaining cavalry from the battle had split themselves to guard the said infantry. But what scared them the most, was another 6,000 men behind those walls, all of them archers by the looks of it, and in the absolute centre of that formation was a siege tower which was being pulled forward by eight horses. At the top of the tower however, sitting atop a chair, without a care in the world, was a lightly armoured boy observing the battlefield with a keen gaze. The banner of House Martell flying behind him leaving no doubt about his identity. Prince Quentyn Martell had arrived on the field.

And although no one at the time knew it, the battle was about to enter its most bloody phase yet.