Chapter 637: Escalation of Conflict

The scorching sun bore down from above, its rays unkind to the sparse foliage on the crimson mountains. The terrain was mostly barren, with naked stones dotting the landscape and signs of desolation all around.

Behind them was a vast desert, and ahead, an oasis awaited.

They traversed along a ridge, and from a distance, they could see a towering stone tower erected on a small hillock down the slope of the mountain.

"That's the Tower of Joy," the young guide, Karlon, briefed them.

"It is said that Eddard Stark, with six knights, fought against three of the Kingsguard – Gerold Hightower, Arthur Dayne, and Oswell Whent."

"It was a dishonorable fight, they outnumbered them," Karlon said, his tone brimming with discontent. His dream was to become an exemplary swordsman like the Sword of the Morning, honoring the blade across the lands and upholding honor.

However, at that moment, distant sounds of galloping hooves and shouts echoed from far behind them.

"Halt!"

A patrol of Dornish cavalry, dressed in sandy-colored robes with white turbans, roamed the vicinity of the Tower of Joy.

Upon spotting this group attempting to flee northward, they unsheathed their shimmering curved blades, much like eagles spotting prey, and hastened their horses towards them.

"Damn it!"

Witnessing this, the few dozen villagers ready to flee were thrown into disarray. Among them, apart from a handful of able-bodied men, most were the elderly, weak, or ill, utterly incapable of facing the formidable cavalry.

But, the vantage point of the crimson mountains allowed them to spot the danger from afar, even though the menacing riders were still a considerable distance away.

"Quick!"

"Run!"

Karlon, with a drastically changed complexion, hurriedly gestured everyone to escape towards the complex terrain on the other side.

There, bizarre rocks and occasional trees would impede the cavalry, providing them a chance to evade.

Several days later.

On the main road leading to the shores of Cintree, a disheveled and ragged group of Dornish appeared. They were the ones who had escaped from the crimson mountains, led by young Karlon.

They had outmaneuvered the Dornish cavalry amidst the complex terrains of the mountains, even managing to slay a few of them. However, the price paid was hefty. Of the dozens of villagers that set out, less than ten remained. The feeble and weak had perished under the blades of their kinsmen, including Karlon's mother and brother. And now, the Dornish cavalry intensified their pursuit.

"Was it worth it?"

Looking at the less than ten familiar faces left, tears trickled down Karlon's cheeks involuntarily, his body quivering slightly.

Many others too lowered their heads, wiping away tears secretly. In truth, many regretted their decision. They realized that it would have been better to stay put than take this perilous path.

Unfortunately, no one sells regret medicine; everyone must bear the consequences of their choices.

Boom, boom, boom—

But as this group of Dornish fugitives rested on the road, the thunderous gallops once again resonated from behind them.

"How is it possible?"

"They couldn't have followed us here, could they?"

They were now in the lands of the Riverbend, but no one could answer the question. All the surviving Dornish, including Karlon, hastily got up and gripped their swords and spears tightly.

Yet fate wasn't kind. At the far end of the road to Cintree, the familiar flags of House Fowler fluttered.

Dornish cavalry, wrapped in white turbans and clad in sandy-colored robes, rode atop slender but enduring desert horses.

They had pursued these 'traitors' for days and nights, losing their way at times, but eventually found them again.

"Kill them!"

With a fierce yell from a Dornish knight bearing a falcon crest, all the Dornish cavalry echoed in unison.

Boom, boom, boom—

The heavy hooves galloped on the road, their menacing eyes fixed on their kinsmen as they unsheathed their gleaming curved blades, charging towards Karlon and his group.

"Damn it!"

"We're doomed!"

"That's Young Lord Orwin Fowler!"

Despair washed over the faces of the fleeing Dornish, including Karlon. They all sensed their impending doom.

They had never imagined that Lord Fowler's cavalry could cross Prince's Pass and chase them all the way to the Riverbend region.

They thought they were safe, thus they let down their guard and took the easier main road. But now, the enemy had caught up, and their lives hung by a thread. The flat terrain of the Riverbend offered no cover like the forests and mountains, the cavalry charge could wipe them out in an instant.

And leading the Dornish cavalry was 'Old Falcon' Franklin Fowler's own nephew, Orwin Fowler. Franklin had two twin daughters; Orwin, being the sole male heir of House Fowler, was pampered and allowed to act recklessly without reprimand.

However, in the direst of situations, fortune often shines. Just as Karlon and his group sank into despair, from the other end of the road leading to Cintree, another thunderous gallop of hooves echoed.

The fleeing Dornish quickly turned their heads to see a group of knights bearing the banners of House Cintford of Cintree approaching from behind.

These knights were clad in bright, heavy armor, fully armed, even their steeds were draped in hefty barding. Their eyes were filled with murderous intent as the flagbearer held high the banner of House Cintford.

"For the Sun that Shines!"

The leading knight, bearing the emblem of House Cintford on his arm, bellowed with a deep voice.

"Slay these invaders!"

"Hah!"

All the Riverbend knights raised their lances, echoing in fury.

Clearly, the sudden appearance of House Cintford's knights aimed at the Dornish cavalry who were in pursuit of the traitors, paying no attention to Karlon and his group.

These Dornish cavalry had trespassed into the lands of the local lord, intending to commit murder. The tensions between the two sides had escalated over time, and this wasn't the first or second instance of such incursions. They almost considered the Riverbend their backyard, igniting the wrath of the local nobility.

This was their first step of retaliation.

"Quick!"

"Quick! Move to the side of the road!"

"Clear the way!"

The Dornish, sandwiched between two groups of cavalry, seemed to have been scared stiff. Only Karlon reacted first, noticing that the knights of Riverbend weren't targeting them. He hurriedly shouted to remind his companions.

The Dornish then snapped out of their trance, rushing to the sides of the road to clear the way for the charging knights.

"Charge! Charge!"

On the other side, Orwin Fowler, leading the Dornish cavalry, saw that the Riverbend knights showed no signs of backing down and ordered to accelerate the charge.

Thwack—

But at that moment, a cold arrow shot out from the ranks of the Cintford knights, accurately striking Sir Orwin Fowler, the lead of the Dornish cavalry.

Thud—

Old Fowler's beloved nephew screamed in pain as he fell from his horse, stirring up a cloud of dust.