Chapter 400: The Trap
Godsgrace.
Jon Connington had taken up residence in the lord's chambers.
Lying on the soft feather bed, he stared blankly at the velvet canopy overhead, unable to sleep.
Jon had long grown accustomed to insomnia.
Ever since the Mad King had stripped him of his titles and banished him, he had rarely slept through the night. Hatred and regret gnawed at him like venomous insects, denying him peace.
For years, leading the Golden Company back to Westeros to reclaim his family's lands and honor had been the sole purpose sustaining Jon Connington's life.
When they landed at the Broken Arm in Dorne, Jon had thought his chance to erase decades of shame had finally come. But reality proved far crueler than he had imagined.
While the Golden Company's campaign had progressed smoothly thus far, capturing castles like Sunspear and Godsgrace without much resistance, Jon knew it was all a fragile illusion.
The company's greatest weakness was its lack of a foundation.
Though they held Ghost Hill and Godsgrace, it was clear to anyone with eyes that the lords of Houses Toland and Allyrion were loyal to Samwell. Young Griff—Aegon VI—was barely respected in these lands. His legitimacy was widely questioned, and few were willing to fight for him.
Unless the Golden Company could achieve continuous, decisive victories—even one small failure, or even a costly victory—could doom them to destruction.
Unfortunately, many within the company failed to see this.
Young Griff, in particular, was blinded by the brief successes they had achieved. He was impulsive and ambitious, unwilling to heed Jon's counsel anymore.
Perhaps Jon should have stood his ground and refused to join the power struggle in Westeros so soon.
This was the wrong time. Worse, it was the wrong place.
In Jon's view, they should have waited until the Lannisters and Samwell were fully at war before crossing the Narrow Sea.
And even then, they should have landed at Griffin's Roost in the Stormlands.
Griffin's Roost was the Connington family's ancestral seat, and Jon was confident he could rally the locals to his cause.
Situated in the heart of the Stormlands, Griffin's Roost was strategically positioned to threaten Storm's End directly.
Had the Golden Company secured that stronghold, they could have coordinated with the Lannisters to flank Samwell's forces, leaving him with nowhere to run.
But impatience had prevailed.
Jon suspected the Lannisters had subtly encouraged this haste. Tywin Lannister certainly had no intention of shouldering Samwell's full attention while the Golden Company reaped the benefits.
Though Jon had wanted to wait, forces beyond his control—Varys, Illyrio Mopatis, the Lannisters, and the restless mercenaries eager to return home—all pushed for an early and ill-advised invasion.
The mistakes only compounded after landing.
They had underestimated the fractured state of Dorne. House Martell's influence had crumbled, and Young Griff's Targaryen lineage held little sway here.
Instead, Samwell had emerged as a savior to the Dornish lords.
Even Lady Ynys of Godsgrace, a seemingly frail woman, had risked her own safety to become an informant for Samwell.
Jon grew increasingly doubtful of the Golden Company's prospects in Dorne.
Perhaps their only hope now was for the Lannisters to quickly escalate their war with Samwell, forcing him to withdraw from Dorne.
Only then might the Golden Company survive…
A sharp knock at the door interrupted Jon's thoughts.
"Who is it?"
"It's me, my lord," came Franklin Flowers' voice from the other side.
Jon rose from the bed, pulling on a cloak.
"Come in."
Franklin entered hurriedly, his tone urgent.
"My lord, as you suspected, Lady Ynys is up to something. She's secretly gathering Allyrion knights. Should we apprehend her now?"
"Not yet." Jon raised a hand to calm him. "Keep a close watch on them. Let's see what they're planning."
"As you command." Franklin left to carry out the order.
Jon stepped out and began rousing his men, ordering them to prepare for battle.
By now, midnight approached. The sky was sparsely dotted with stars, their faint light overshadowed by a luminous full moon casting its cool glow over the desert.
Franklin returned, reporting breathlessly,
"My lord, Allyrion men are attempting to open the western gate in secret! They're conspiring with Samwell to let his forces into the city!"
"I see." Jon nodded grimly. "Secure all Allyrion forces immediately. If they resist, kill them."
"Understood!"
"Also, reposition our troops near the western gate and lay an ambush. Once we've stabilized the situation within the city, we'll open the gate ourselves."
Franklin blinked in surprise before grinning.
"Ah, I see now. We'll give Samwell a warm welcome at the gate!"
He left eagerly to execute the orders.
Soon, the sounds of scuffles echoed through the castle, though the clashes were brief and subdued.
Most members of House Allyrion had no knowledge of Lady Ynys' plot. Confused and groggy, they were dragged from their beds and quickly subdued by Golden Company soldiers.
Jon stood atop the tallest tower, blending into the shadows like a statue, silently watching the events unfold.
When a soldier came to report that all Allyrion members had been apprehended, Jon finally stirred.
Descending the stairs, he paused outside Lady Ynys' chambers.
Through the door, he could hear her weeping softly.
Placing a hand on the doorknob, Jon hesitated.
He wasn't sure how to face her.
He admitted to himself that he felt something for Lady Ynys. But he also knew she was poison to him.
I can't make the same mistake again, he reminded himself.
Seventeen years ago, his mercy and pride had ruined the first half of his life. Now, he had to harden his heart.
"Keep a close watch on her," Jon said to the guards outside her door, stepping back. "If she tries anything, kill her."
"Yes, my lord."
Jon turned and strode away.
At the western gate, he found over a thousand Golden Company soldiers busy at work. They had dug traps, positioned archers and heavy crossbows, and even dismantled nearby buildings to construct barricades.
Jon climbed to the gatehouse and peered into the darkness beyond the gate.
The night was deep, and visibility was poor. Yet the shadows seemed alive, as if something was stirring in the blackness.
When a soldier informed him that all preparations were complete, Jon descended the gatehouse and retreated to a command post.
There, he issued the order:
"Open the gate."
The rusted iron chains creaked loudly, the sound unnervingly clear in the stillness of the night.
The massive iron-banded gate began to rise, revealing a yawning black void.
Golden Company soldiers crouched in the shadows, their weapons ready, silently awaiting their prey.
(End of Chapter)