Chapter 24: Morning in the Camp

Jae woke with the dawn. The sense of tiredness that had plagued him since the Council had disappeared. Jae hadn't even noticed it, too caught up in his problems, but as he got up from his bed, the feeling of sluggishness in his limbs weighed him down no more.

He put on his doublet and walked out of the tent with a spring in his step. Ser Loras and Ser Oswell greeted him as he emerged. "Your Grace."

"Good morning," Jae said with good cheer, startling the both of them. I suppose I have become rather gloomy. His determination remained, he felt it residing in his chest, ready to be called up at a moment's notice. Optimism, however, had taken the place of gloomy anticipation.

"Shall I call your squire to bring you some breakfast, Your Grace?" Ser Loras asked.

"Please do so, Ser Loras. And make sure he brings some for the two of you as well." Ser Loras bowed and hurried off to find Lucas.

The rest of the camp began to stir awake. Knights could be heard, shouting for their squires to fetch their armor as men-at-arms sat up from whatever patch of grass they had chosen as their bed, the first rays of the sun sparing their commander from having to wake them up.

Jaehaerys inhaled the cool, crisp air, stepped on the moist grass, and turned his face to the soft light of the morning sun.

"I trust you've split your watches in a sensible manner?" he asked Ser Oswell.

"Truth be told, Your Grace, Lord Fossoways boys there demanded we get some sleep. A dozen of them guarded your tent while we got some rest over there by that tree. But not to worry, Your Grace, we kept an—" Ser Oswell tried to rush through his sheepish explanation before Jaehaerys interrupted him with a laugh.

"That's quite alright, Ser," he said, "Those boys over there?"

Ser Oswell nodded, relief and amusement battling for dominance in his expression.

"We shall have to reward them for their leal service, then." Jae marched over to them.

Some of them were still wiping the cold out their eyes, all groggy and half asleep, but they came to attention quickly enough when they spotted Jaehaerys. "I hear I have you fine fellows to thank for my peaceful slumber."

One of them jumped to his feet. His salt-and-pepper beard marked him as the oldest of the bunch and the rigid posture he assumed spoke of an old soldier. He kept his eyes on the ground as he said, "We'd wanted to do our part, Yer Grace." The rest of them nodded in agreement with his words.

Jaehaerys could spot an instigator when one stood in front of him. "And so you have. I think it's only fair I share my breakfast with such fine men, wouldn't you agree?"

His little declaration had them exchanging looks, but before they could answer, Ser Loras returned with Lucas in tow, the boy carrying a piece of ham, two loaves of bread, and a skin of ale. At least Jae assumed the skin contained ale.

"Ah, there you are, Lucas. You wouldn't mind getting some more food for these fine men, would you?" Jaehaerys asked. "If anybody asks, tell them it comes on the order of the King."

"Not at all, Your Grace," the boy replied, favoring Jaehaerys with a bright smile. He unloaded the food and quickly scurried away. I have to make sure that boy doesn't come near the battle. Too fine a boy to die. Jaehaerys almost wished for a traitor in the Reach so he might reward Fossoways with untold amounts of land. They are something else.

He sat down with the men, pulled out his dagger, and sliced up the peace of bread and ham, handing it around the circle of men. He took a sip of the ale, before he passed it to the instigator whose name he still didn't know.

The man took the skin with cautious hands, carrying to his lips as though he expected the skin to contain something other than ale. He took a small sip and handed it off to the next man, shaking his head. They all looked at him with wide eyes, none more so than Ser Oswell and Ser Loras.

"What is your name, good man?"

"Tymon, Yer Grace," he replied.

"Tymon," Jaehaerys repeated. "I get the sense it's not your first time fighting as a part of an army."

"'Tis not, Yer Grace," Tymon said as the skin of ale moved around the circle. "I fought under yer Father at the Trident, that I did."

"At the Trident?" Jaehaerys asked with a frown, even as a thrill went through him. "Were you a part of the detachment Lord Tyrell sent from Storm's End?"

"I was not, Yer Grace. I come from the Riverlands," he said as he took a bite of the ham and bread. Lucas returned with enough food to feed half the Realm in the meantime.

"The Riverlands?" Jaehaerys asked. "How did you end up here?"

"I be working as a blacksmith since the war, Yer Grace. I made a good living. When I heard Yer Grace's escape King's Landing, I bought a horse and followed ye's here with all the swords I could carry." The other men in the circle looked to the swords laying at their sides as proof of his story.

"Do you have family there?"

"Aye, Yer Grace, two boys, and a girl. They pray for you every night."

The optimism Ser Arthur had sparked the previous night roared into a flame. He put his hand on Tymon's shoulder and said, "When we win this war, Tymon, I want you to know, it'll be men like you who've won it."

Tymon favored him with a bright smile, the missing teeth making it all the brighter. "I thank yous, Yer Grace, but I'd like much more to see you beat that Blackfyre boy yerself."

"Your wish might just come true, Tymon," Jaehaerys said, to the laughter of the men.

It took them the rest of the day to reach the village of Black Tree. Lord Tarly was right, it is lovely ground. They made camp at the top of a small rise, looking down on the village. The river protected their right flank, the forest their left. The tree line had been cut down further away from the river the closer one got to the village, giving his troops room to maneuver. The open ground was a league wide at the top of the rise and almost three at the bottom. Lovely ground. If Blackfyre wanted to out-flank them, he'd have to advance through a league of forests or swing all the way around. By which time, Lord Tyrell will be here, and Gods know how many other Houses eager to enjoy the spoils of victory. No, he had to face them here. The price of being the invader.

His scouts had reported Blackfyre force-marched his men through the night and remained only half a day away. Let him march them through the day as well, Jaehaerys pleaded to the Gods even as he knew, deep down, that Blackfyre would. He has no choice, he's been out-maneuvered and most likely doesn't even know it.

The Golden Company would withstand the weariness, but could Florents and Oakhearts do the same? And had Deamon chosen the House he would grant the title of Lord Paramount of the Reach?

Even if he did, Jae felt certain it would leave one of the two Major Houses unsatisfied. Jae had grappled with malcontent Lords and prevailed, so why shouldn't he take advantage of Daemon's own political problems?

Are you a King? Or a boy with Blackfyre in his hands, playing at war? he asked as he stared down the long descent. At the bottom of it, Blackfyre and his army would appear in mere hours, that much he knew.

And what of you Varys? Do you sense the trap? He got off on imagining the almighty Master of Whisperers pleading words of caution as men of war ignored him and headed straight for Jaehaerys' little trap. Varys' influence had never been questioned, but due to his methods, he'd never been respected or admired either. I doubt veteran warriors will heed the advice of a schemer when it comes to matters of war.

"Your Grace, our scouts beg to report the enemy is but an hour's march away," Lord Fossoway said. He, along with the rest of the Lords and prominent knights, stood behind him.

"We should hit them the moment they arrive, Your Grace," Lord Meadows said, eager and willing to make up for Lord Caswell's political favor with daring and boldness in battle. The rest of the Lords seemed to agree with his assessment.

"No. It would not be chivalrous of us." His lips stretched into a dangerous smile. "Gather all the squires, all the whores, all the healers who shall not take part in the battle. Give them a shield and a spear to hold. When Blackfyre arrives, we shall position them at the edge of the rise and blow our warhorns the entire night. Let them think we'll attack them at their weakest. Why fight an enemy after one sleepless night when you can fight him after two, eh?"

Grins met his plan and laughter soon followed. Even the mighty Lord Tarly cracked a smile.

"Aye, Your Grace," Lord Caswell said.

"We shall get to it right away," Lord Meadows said, the two of them failing to notice they were in agreement for the first time in years.

"Make sure to tell our men to ignore our warhorns 'till the morning and get a good night's sleep." They all nodded at his command and retreated back to their men.

"A brilliant plan, Your Grace," Ser Loras commented as they stood, waiting for Blackfyre to arrive.

"Save your compliments until we win, Ser Loras."

"I apologize, Your Grace." Ser Loras said, bowing his head to hide the insult he thought he'd been handed.

"Do not apologize, Ser Loras." Jaehaerys faced him. "There is simply a difference between a truth I tell my commanders and a truth I tell those I trust. You fall among the latter group, exclusive as it is." Ser Loras looked up at him, his face brightening. "Tomorrow morning, the two of us along with Ser Barristan and Ser Oswell shall ride down this hill commanding the vanguard, and all shall remember the brave charge that put an end to Blackfyre pretensions once and for all, as well as the men who led it."

Ser Loras instantly fell for the picture Jae painted, while his more experienced knights looked less convinced. "Are you certain that is wise, Your Grace?" Ser Arthur asked, though if he had a problem with his plan or being left out of it, Jae did not know.

"I am, Ser. These men do not expect me to be another lordling commanding them from the back. When they see me charging ahead of them, they shall follow with a fury."

"It is risky, Your Grace," Ser Barristan said, sounding as though he forced himself to say it.

He wants me to charge with the vanguard as well. He knows what it'll do to the men. "I've heard that word was often associated with war, yes," Jaehaerys replied, earning reluctant laughs from his Kingsguard.

"And what shall my role be, Your Grace?" Ser Arthur asked, the only one who abstained from laughter.

"Why, good Ser, you shall have the most important role of them all," Jaehaerys said as he looked back.