Chapter 173: The Watchtower
"Sam!"
"Lady Nathalie." Samwell walked over, tempted to give the young lady a hug, but with so many people around, he restrained himself and settled for his usual pat on her head.
Nathalie protested but to no avail. Pouting, she asked, "Will you be staying at Starfall tonight?"
Seeing her hopeful expression, Samwell hesitated before shaking his head. "Sorry, we can't stay. If your people see us, it might cause issues. The Iron Throne is bearing down on Dorne, and people are likely to be even more hostile to outsiders. It's better not to complicate things for you."
"Alright…" Nathalie nodded obediently, even if she wasn't thrilled.
Lucas Dayne was also there to greet them. Samwell had specifically summoned him from Eagle's Nest to act as a guide, since Lucas knew the Dornish terrain well. Todd Flowers, meanwhile, had been reassigned to Eagle Nest to handle its defense.
After Lord Yohn Royce thanked Nathalie, the soldiers finished disembarking, collected the provisions and water Starfall had provided, and set off eastward without even entering the city.
Once Starfall had faded into the night, Lord Yohn halted his horse and summoned the group's lords and knights. "Our mission is to disrupt Dorne's supply lines. Our key tactics are stealth and mobility. Avoid direct confrontation with the Dornish unless absolutely necessary. To maximize our reach, we'll split into ten groups of two hundred cavalry each. This will make it easier to remain concealed and mobile."
Seeing no objections to his plan, Lord Yohn proceeded to assign each group its own zone and commander.
Most of the two thousand cavalry under Lord Yohn's command were from the Vale, as avenging Lord Jon Arryn was their primary motivation. The rest of the cavalry included over 150 knights from Horn Hill, led by Dickon Tarly, while Samwell had no formal cavalry of his own. He brought only his squire Katu and Lucas Dayne, who knew the Dornish terrain best.
"All right, Lord Caesar," Lord Yohn addressed him, "I'll give you the last unit of two hundred cavalry, including the Horn Hill knights and fifty from the Vale. Put them to good use."
Samwell wasn't surprised; with his reputation, he was more than capable of leading a two-hundred-strong cavalry unit. Besides, the majority of these knights were from Horn Hill, and although Dickon Tarly would have been a suitable leader on paper, he wasn't of age or experienced in battle. And Dickon had no desire to lead—he was content to follow his brother into the fray.
"Thank you, Lord Yohn. I won't let you down."
With their zones assigned, each cavalry unit departed in turn.
Samwell led his group along rugged paths heading southwest, halting only when the eastern sky began to lighten. He pulled his horse to a stop, raising one hand to signal his men.
"Everyone, dismount and rest. Eat something, but no fires."
"Yes, sir."
After that, Samwell called Lucas over. "How far are we from the edge of Dayne territory?"
"About seventy miles east of here. Once we cross that, we'll be in Qorgyle lands."
"The Qorgyle… Their family keep is in Sandstone, right?"
"Yes, m'lord. Sandstone is farther—about two hundred miles away."
Samwell nodded, a plan forming in his mind. Lord Yohn had assigned him a patrol zone near Sandstone. "Take ten men to stand guard. Once everyone's eaten, they should sleep. We'll set out again tonight."
"Yes, My lord."
Under Samwell's orders, the group moved by night and stayed hidden during the day. By the third day, they had left the mountainous terrain and Dayne lands behind, emerging onto a vast desert where the world turned from deep red to a hazy yellow.
Such open ground put the cavalry at a disadvantage, with nothing to cover them. However, there was an upside: this kind of terrain was perfect for cavalry charges.
Standing at the edge of the mountains, Samwell closed his eyes as if resting, though his mind had already soared high above on the wings of his hawk.
With Lucas's guidance, Samwell soon spotted the first Dornish outpost on the desert floor ahead.
It was less of a fortress and more of a twenty-foot-high watchtower.
Lucas had explained that the Qorgyle had built the watchtower not just to monitor the Daynes but also to guard a well beneath it. In the Dornish desert, any source of water was strategically guarded.
The well was said to be nearly dry, with its water output dwindling by the day. The small settlement around the well had long since emptied as villagers left to find better sources of water, leaving only the soldiers manning the watchtower.
Lucas was unsure how many soldiers the watchtower held, but he estimated fewer than a hundred, as the well wouldn't sustain more.
Through his hawk's vision, Samwell saw that the watchtower had three floors, possibly a basement, and about five or six Dornish soldiers visible through the windows, though there were likely more inside.
With little cover around the tower, an approach would risk detection. Samwell decided to wait for nightfall and attempt a stealth attack with a small team.
He ordered his troops to remain hidden until night, when he selected a group of men for the attack.
"Are you ready?"
"Ready, brother," Dickon replied, having removed his armor and donned a simple linen shirt, as did the other ten knights chosen for the mission.
The rest of the cavalry stood by, horses' hooves wrapped to muffle noise. They were to charge if the watchtower was taken, or to provide cover if the attack failed.
Once everything was ready, Samwell gave the signal.
He wore no armor himself, armed only with his greatsword Dawn and his warhammer Thunderstrike.
The stars were dim, providing ideal conditions for stealth.
The Dornish soldiers seemed to have no inkling that an enemy would approach from this direction, and Samwell's group reached the base of the tower without issue.
He signaled to his men, and they began to climb.
The tower, though formidable, was crudely built. It wasn't high, and its exterior had enough cracks and uneven spots to offer ample footholds.
The knights moved swiftly and skillfully, scaling the wall with practiced ease. Even with his strength, Samwell was not the first to reach the window on the second floor.
Inside, the battle had already begun.
Caught off guard, the Dornish soldiers were in disarray. Some were unarmed or without armor and were easily slain.
Samwell swung his hammer, taking down a soldier before turning his attention to the window, where he directed his focus skyward—watching through his hawk's eyes to ensure no messenger birds escaped.
The skirmish didn't last long.
Eighteen Dornish soldiers had been in the tower; six were killed outright, while the others were captured or surrendered.
No messenger birds had been released, though one soldier attempted to light a signal fire before Dickon cut him down.
"What do we do with the prisoners?" Lucas asked.
Samwell hesitated before replying, "Kill them all."
He planned to use the tower as a temporary base, and he couldn't spare supplies for prisoners, nor could he risk them revealing his position if released.
"Yes, sir," Lucas replied without surprise. "What about the woman we found? She appears to be… camp services. Should we kill her as well?"
Samwell raised an eyebrow. The Dornish soldiers were living comfortably with a woman here. But just one woman… were they taking turns?
Pushing aside the thought, he replied, "Let her live. We'll release her when we leave. She can't drink much water alone."
Lucas nodded, seeming to understand.
Soon after, the rest of the cavalry arrived. There wasn't enough room in the watchtower for everyone, but the abandoned village nearby had enough stone huts to house the rest.
Samwell claimed the top floor of the watchtower for himself. He was about to get some much-needed sleep when he heard cautious footsteps.
A Dornish woman entered the room, her face showing fear yet exuding a practiced allure. With olive skin and a curvaceous figure, she walked towards him, her tone sweet and imploring.
"Lord, please allow me to serve you."
Samwell realized this too late.
As she drew closer, he coldly replied, "No. Leave."
The woman's eyes welled with tears. "Please, Lord, don't turn me away. I'll do anything—anything at all. If I can't serve, they'll kill me… please…"
"Get out!" he commanded firmly.
Reluctantly, she left, but not without casting several backward glances.
Finally alone, Samwell lay on the tower's lone wooden cot, closing his eyes.
But sometime later, he jolted awake to find the woman back, kneeling beside his bed.
She froze when their eyes met, but then gave a coy smile and whispered, "Lord, can't sleep? Let me help…"
As she reached for him, her hand stopped halfway, caught in Samwell's iron grip.
She gasped, "Lord, you're hurting me."
Ignoring her, Samwell raised her hand to eye level, spotting the glint of a hidden blade in the dim room.
"You shouldn't have drawn a weapon," he said in a low, resigned tone. Holding her hand firmly, he used the hidden blade she'd concealed to slice her own throat.
The Dornish woman's final breath left her in silence.
"The moment you draw a weapon, you're no longer a civilian"
(End of Chapter)