(1,200 words)
- Percival Bolton POV -
- The Trident - Westerlands - Westeros - 283 A.D -
Both sides were facing each other with tension palpable in the air. I was about to leave the place with my soldiers. But with that on the record I could forget about The Seven Kingdoms, as well as the Iron Throne.
Fortunately they were only able to hire 3,000 soldiers from the Golden Company, and not elephants, but it's still a big problem. Their soldiers are all at the level of the Unsullied or even better. Or so it is in theory, since in the series they are just flesh burned by Daenerys' dragons. But I guess they'll be more competent here.
"Fight for your king!" "Finish the traitors!" shouted the enemy soldiers. We could only hear a trace of the sound, but it was still audible.
"Mercenaries! Worth the money paid!" I shouted as I sat on my horse with the Clegane brothers.
"Finish the dragons!" shouted Robert. "Ours is the fury!"
"The North remembers!" shouted Ned a little nervously. He was quite young after all.
Jon Arryn and Hoster Tully were silent, but they raised their swords sharply as they began to charge in front of the enemy army. So I had to act... Although I wasn't sure, but I decided to use my militar power in this battle.
"Fire!" I shouted, and about 100 archers launched their arrows. All with powder that would explode on contact. And it was a beautiful sight... The whole battlefield exploding and killing those ants.
I could see how the charging soldiers on my side stopped dead in their tracks as they looked at my archers. With clear impact on their faces. But after a while Robert regained the momentum, and with a shout the morale of all the warriors went through the roof as he charged with even more force than before.
In front of my army were the hired mercenaries, so I hoped to reduce the casualties of my men as much as possible while I took advantage of reducing the cost as much as possible.
From time to time I used my bow to shoot arrows at the authority figures within the enemy army. Severing in the process many chains of command. Not that such a thing is all that important in the medieval world.
The battle continued for a while, and there were not many mercenaries left. My soldiers were still "hiding" behind the mercenary companies, but there was the occasional gap that produced conflict. Although the battle "almost" came to a standstill when the attention of all the soldiers was focused on a particular combat. It is almost as if it was a consensus or an unwritten rule.
Rhaegar wore black armor with a red three-headed dragon on his chest. It was the symbol of House Targaryen. His shield had the same symbol, and his helmet had a small dragon on its head.
In the case of Barathoen, his colors were gray and yellow. His armor was silver with a yellow cloak and tunic with the symbol of the elk of House Baratheon. But the most particular was his helmet that had two big horns. I guess it suited him. Lyanna fucked Rhaegar and Cersei fucked her brother, one or another Kingsguard and Euron Greyjoy. All his life he had big horns. While as a weapon he carried his great war mace with a shield bigger than the white-haired man's. The blows came and went.
The blows came and went. Robert was much stronger and physically tougher. But Rhaegar was more agile and more skilled in the handling of the sword. Which I suppose is normal. The Baratheons are brutish and dumb, and Robert's father, Steffon, was not known for his great technique. Rhaegar on the other hand, though his father doesn't fight, grew up with Arthur Dayne under the tutelage of Barristan Selmy. The two most capable knights of The Seven Kingdoms. Barristan right now was watching the battle from the side while I was thinking whether or not to shoot an arrow at him. But I suppose that in the future I could take him on my side if I marry a Targaryen... Though he would have to be expelled from Kingsguard first. Arthur on the other hand, must be escorting Lyanna Stark, as it happened in the series.
After an intense 10 minutes, both fighters gasped for air. I remember they said that Robert only won by a lucky hammer blow. At this point... He wasn't very lucky, as he was gasping on the ground with a small cut on his face, and a gash on his shoulder that had rendered his left arm useless.
I looked at Jon Arryn, seeking confirmation, and he nodded regretfully. It was not the best thing to do, but it was necessary. Rhaegar was not someone much loved by the great houses. He was a rapist who ran away from his responsibilities with an engaged woman causing a war. Also, cheating on his wife along the way. So he was not well liked in the eyes of the Martells, or even the Tyrells who were not directly involved with the drama. So it wouldn't be so bad...
- Barristan Selmy POV -
His Highness was winning his battle against Robert Baratheon. This meant House Lannister support and our victory in the war. Though we had been warned of one thing, and that was to kill a man named Percival Bolton. In case he left Westeros and returned with the bulk of his forces, it would turn the war back in favor of the rebels.
I do not agree with what the prince did with Lady Stark, nor with how His Highness Aerys rules. But I am a knight and I have a duty to perform. It is not my duty to question the orders of my lords. If they directly interfered with my morals, I would hesitate, but this is not the case.
Just as Rhaegar was about to strike the final blow, I saw a figure looming at the other end of the field. Crossing the area clear of soldiers that we had all cleared for the fight.
The figure had long black hair, pale skin, and his eyes I could not see. But what startled me was seeing the bow in his hands. It looked strange, but it looked very lethal. The worst part was that his arrow was pointing at Rhaegar.
"Your Highness!" I tried to shout as I ran, but it was too late as an arrow stuck in Rhaegar's skull.
"You..." I think Robert muttered in surprise.
"Your Majesty!" more people said as they went to check on Rhaegar's condition.
There was no point in trying to check his condition. That was a phenomenal shot. It was at a considerable distance, and it hit without a problem.
Silence filled the camp. With us loyalists mourning Rhaegar, and the rebels in divided moods. Some were happy, since this meant practically the loss of the war, while others were disappointed by the dirty methods they used?
How can one be so dishonorable? That Percival Bolton guy...
But with morale down, all we could see was our allies dying and falling as we tried to fight and retreat to Kingslanding in the hope of.... I don't really know. There wasn't much hope anymore. We can only hope to reduce the bloodshed.