Chapter 406: The War Elephants

"Sunspear refuses to swear fealty to me?"

After the Riverlands and Vale prisoners revolted, they massacred the few Martell soldiers left to guard the castle and seized control of Sunspear.

The Yronwood forces and the Golden Company arrived outside the city one after another. However, neither side launched an immediate attack. Instead, they each sent emissaries into the city to persuade the garrison to surrender.

Both sides understood that the forces inside Sunspear were a crucial wildcard. Without knowing where the garrison's loyalties lay, the outcome of the broader conflict was uncertain.

Unfortunately, winning the allegiance of the Sunspear garrison was no simple task.

"Yes, Your Grace," the envoy replied. "Lord Edmure Tully said that promises alone won't suffice. He requires provisions, weapons, and ships to bring his men home before he'll pledge his loyalty to you."

Young Aegon scoffed. "Do they doubt my word? If they fight for me, I can provide food, weapons, ships, and even land, castles, and titles!"

The envoy hesitated and cautiously added:

"Your Grace, Lord Edmure also said… you cannot give away what is not yet yours."

Crash!

Young Aegon flipped the table in fury, sending cups, plates, and bottles smashing to the ground.

Tyrion Lannister instinctively stepped back a few paces to avoid the flying debris, muttering:

"The good news is that the Yronwood forces also can't offer the garrison what they want. The bad news is that Caesar can. So…"

"Caesar can't get here," Aegon said firmly. "Jon will keep him pinned west of Sunspear—"

Before he could finish, a blood-soaked soldier stumbled into the tent, crying out:

"Your Grace! Godsgrace has fallen!"

The tent fell into a suffocating silence.

Tyrion watched as Aegon's face shifted from pale to crimson, then to a deep, violent purple. Taking a few more cautious steps back, Tyrion prepared for the inevitable outburst.

As expected, the next moment Aegon hurled his wineskin to the ground with such force that the contents splattered across the floor, drenching those nearby.

"Godsgrace has fallen? How?" Aegon roared, his voice filled with disbelief.

"Yes, Your Grace." The messenger, still haunted by the horrors of that night, spoke in a trembling voice. "Lord Jon misjudged Caesar's timing and strategy. And the enemy… they had a dragon. A massive, terrifying dragon. Even the scorpions couldn't bring it down…"

"Enough!" Aegon snapped, cutting him off impatiently. "I knew Jon Connington couldn't be trusted! It was his incompetence that let Robert Baratheon escape all those years ago, leading to the deaths of so many Targaryens. And now, he's going to destroy me too! I should never have entrusted the army to him!"

Tyrion observed the outburst with a mixture of unease and disdain. For all Jon Connington's flaws, he had raised Aegon, cared for him, and once regarded him as a son. Yet here was Aegon, publicly denouncing the man without hesitation. It left a bitter taste in Tyrion's mouth.

"Your Grace," Tyrion interjected carefully, "under the current circumstances, we cannot afford to delay. We must quickly defeat the Yronwood forces. If Caesar arrives with his reinforcements, we'll be caught between two enemies."

"Very well!" Aegon barked. "Tomorrow morning, we attack! Once the Yronwood forces are destroyed, the Sunspear garrison will have no choice but to see reason."

"Yes, Your Grace!"

---

The next morning, at dawn, the Golden Company formed their battle lines.

Ser Orifor Sand of Yronwood stood at the front of his camp, observing the enemy forces assembling in the distance. His expression turned grim.

"The Golden Company is desperate," one of his officers remarked.

"They have every reason to be," Ser Orifor replied, shaking his head. "Godsgrace has fallen, and His Grace Caesar's forces will soon arrive to cut off their retreat."

Despite his calm exterior, Ser Orifor was acutely aware of the danger. The Golden Company outnumbered them and had a fearsome reputation as Essos' premier mercenary force.

Though Caesar's victory at Godsgrace had been decisive, if the Yronwood forces couldn't hold their ground against the Golden Company, the conflict in Dorne would remain unresolved.

There was no time for idle thought. Ser Orifor began issuing orders for his men to prepare for the inevitable assault.

For Yronwood's forces, holding their defensive position was all that mattered. If they could withstand the attack, Caesar's reinforcements would arrive and ensure the Golden Company's defeat.

But the Golden Company understood this too. Their attack would be an all-out effort. The coming battle promised to be brutal.

As Ser Orifor finalized his preparations, the sound of horns echoed across the desert.

Sand and dust swirled in the air as the Golden Company advanced, their presence exuding murderous intent.

The Yronwood soldiers held their positions behind their fortifications, watching nervously as the Golden Company's cavalry moved to the front lines. The riders split into flanks and drew their bows, unleashing a hail of arrows that rained down upon the defenders.

The Yronwood archers retaliated, sending their own volleys back toward the advancing mercenaries. Arrows filled the air, and men on both sides fell screaming to the ground.

Ser Orifor stood at the rear, overseeing the unfolding battle. Suddenly, his sharp eyes caught an unusual movement within the enemy lines.

"What is that?" one of his officers asked, noticing the same anomaly.

The ground beneath them began to quake. A distant rumbling, like thunder, sent a chill through the defenders.

"Elephants," Ser Orifor whispered, his voice laced with dread. "War elephants."

The sight of these towering beasts shook the Yronwood forces to their core. Panic rippled through their ranks as the massive creatures lumbered closer, their enormous size growing more imposing with each step.

"According to the rules of cyvasse, dragons beat elephants," one officer quipped nervously, trying to lighten the mood.

"Perhaps," Ser Orifor replied grimly. "But our dragon isn't here."

He quickly ordered the frontline soldiers to form a phalanx of spears and shields, the traditional formation against cavalry charges. But against elephants?

No one could say for sure if it would hold.

Westeros had no experience fighting elephants on a battlefield. Tales of war elephants were distant legends from Essos, not something the defenders had ever faced in combat.

Now, they would have to learn the hard way.

The thunderous footfalls of the elephants grew louder, each step reverberating like the beating of a war drum.

As the massive creatures drew nearer, their size became even more terrifying.

"Loose arrows! Loose arrows!" the Yronwood commanders shouted desperately.

Arrows once again darkened the sky, falling like rain onto the Golden Company's advancing lines.

Yet the war elephants barely flinched. The arrows that struck their thick hides were little more than pinpricks.

"Charge! Charge!" the riders atop the elephants yelled, their voices filled with bloodlust.

They had seen this fear countless times before—an army frozen in terror as the mighty beasts trampled everything in their path.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Seventeen elephants began their steady advance, their massive forms like living fortresses of flesh and steel. Ignoring the hail of arrows, they broke into a thundering charge, barreling toward the Yronwood fortifications with unstoppable force.

(End of Chapter)