6 Royce Caron II/Gwayne Yronwood II/Qoren Martell I.

Late 119 A.C

Royce Caron II

He stood along with Lords Tarly and Dondarrion behind the prince, his constant shield standing next to him.

If someone had told him that a one and four-year-old could be so competent, he would have spit on that person's face.

But here they are, silently standing as the Prince used his far eye to observe the host beyond the river.

"Looks like I was right, again, Rodrick., they did camp on the other side of the river."

"Yes, your grace. It seems that they plan to hold their ground, probably hoping to charge us as we start crossing the river."

"Ser Rodrick is right, your grace. However, I believe we should do so anyway, hopefully, your dragon could bridge the gap."

"Lord Tarly is right, it seems we have no other choice, we either cross the river and engage in a disadvantageous position, or we march back and abandon our conquest." Continued Lord Dondarrion.

"This should be a trap, they are probably hiding several scorpions next to their vanguard. I believe they are aiming for the dragon, Your Grace." Finished Royce.

"Hmm... Rodrick, out of the untrained levies, how many refuse to partake in the new training?"

"Half, your Grace."

"So about four thousand and five hundred infantry... And did the engineers finish my request?"

"Yes, your Grace."

"Good. Lord Tarly!"

"Yes, your grace."

"Tell your secondborn to prepare, he will be in charge of the vanguard."

That failure?

"Y-your grace?"

"Can't you hear, go tell your second son that he has an opportunity to redeem himself, go on!"

"Yes, your grace!"

Tarly had three sons, each of them men grown. But out of the three, his second son is the Blacksheep of the family, a notorious craven who previously ran away at the first sign of trouble, the man was arrogant, flamboyant and a coward to boot.

Which is why the prince's decision was so irregular.

"Rodrick, inform the indisciplined levies, they will be our vanguard today. And start preparing for our surprise, Yronwood will love this!" The Prince had a giddy smile on his face.

"Of course, your Grace."

As the sworn shield left to do what he was ordered to do, Dondarrion couldn't help but comment.

"Your grace! Why put such an incompetent man in command? With him at the helm of the vanguard, and with the quality of the troops, the vanguard will break at the first sign of trouble. Furthermore, the enemy will know about it, and they will take complete advantage of the situation!"

Baelon looked back at them with a delighted expression.

"Exactly! The vanguard will break, so Yronwood will only see a vulnerable prey trapped under his boot, and with his arrogance and greed, he will latch on to this chance with everything he has!"

Oh, you sneaky bastard.

"Our engineers did an amazing job! You will see."

__________________________________________________________________________________________

Gwayne Yronwood II

"My Lord! The scouts saw a host of infantry gathering next to the river! Some four and five thousand!"

"Good. And what banners do they don?"

"They say it is a black archer on green, the personal sigil of the second son of House Tarly!"

That incompetent imbecile? Mayhaps they overestimated their opponent this time.

"Even better! Prepare the troops."

"Yes, my lord."

After his squire helped him put on his armor, he rode his red-brown warhorse through the crowd of soldiers, seeing their Lord in full regalia should be good for morale.

He slowed his steed until it stood next to his brother and second-in-command, Hother.

"Brother! It seems that this shall be an easy victory!" Began Hother.

"Yes, the young welp thinks he can do what the conqueror couldn't? He will be sorely mistaken."

Their conversation was interrupted by the sight of the enemies marching into the river, they were disorganized and poorly equipped, so Gwayne waited until almost half crossed the river, before giving the signal for their infantry to charge.

While the enemy levies were uncoordinated, theirs were suitably trained, they marched in a rhythmic manner without chaos.

In the invasion of Wyl, Baelon's army lost almost two hundred cavalries and roughly five hundred footmen, putting their numbers at an impressive eight and thirty hundred horses, along with around seven and ten thousand, five hundred standing soldiers.

The Yronwoods had enough time to gather and train around one and ten thousand levies, along with two thousand knights, showing their impressive might.

The difference in skill was obvious when the two armies made contact, as for every Yronwood soldier that fell, three enemy footmen also die.

After almost half of the vanguard fell, the enemy commander frantically ordered the troops to retreat.

The Yronwood levies, full of bloodlust, naturally follow them like hounds, their pride and arrogance as dornish people pushing them on.

In order to cement their initial advantage, the Dornish vanguard consisted of almost half their infantry to slightly outnumber the enemy.

Gwayne rubbed the bridge of his nose out of frustration, but as he looked upwards, the Prince's dragon was flying on their rear, probably looking for a chance to attack.

What the hell, since they don't have a dragon on that side, they should just commit even more.

"Brother, lead half of our cavalry and flank the enemy, they should break after making contact with our soldiers anyway."

"Yes, my Lord."

He watched as the retreating enemies just started to turn their backs to their footmen as more of theirs died, frantically running back.

Then their cavalry started catching up, and Gwayne distinctly saw from his far eye his brother cutting down levies like a farmer cuts wheat.

When the rabble reached the second wall of spearmen, the soldiers moved, creating several wide entryways which the escaping soldiers went through without hesitation.

Most of the chasers also did so, their lust for blood too strong, but Gwayne noticed that those that attempted to attack the second wall just got speared by the enemy.

But then they came, out of the entryway surged several chariots moved by roaring horses, they had spikes attached to their wheels and their steeds were heavily armored. And they went through his footmen like rabble.

His expression formed into one of horror at the sight of his vanguard getting decimated. It was too late to sound the retreat, they can't hear it from so far away anyway!

He sent a silent prayer to the gods, these chariots may be good against infantry, but the cavalry is a whole other matter! His brother will surely live through this, won't he?

And he was proven right, the charioteers turned sideways as they got close to a confrontation with the cavalry, only to show... crossbowmen?

They had crossbowmen on top of these?!

The crossbows showered badly targeted arrows all over his brothers' cavalry, the momentum of the chariots and the unexperience of the crossbowmen probably had a hand in that, but they didn't need to hit bullseyes to kill lightly armored dornish knights.

A fourth of the horsemen died on the first wave, and as the chariots turned their backs on them, his brother foolishly thought to chase them due to their slower speed.

But any time their horses would close the distance, the crossbows would put them back, losing them even more soldiers.

By the time his brother -who was thankfully still alive- realized his folly and gave the order to retreat, their heavy knights, slower but more powerful than their lighted counterparts, had already surrounded them.

Hother at that moment had no choice but to surrender.

He threw down his far-eye into the ground.

"FUCK!"

He just lost his fucking brother to incestuous scum! This shouldn't have gone like this!

"My Lord! The rest of them are marching! They are crossing the river!"

He paid his vassal no mind, he could clearly see them.

The reality of the situation only registered once he saw the enemies, in gleaming steel, marching at the beat of the drums.

It was clear to him now that this was all meticulously planned, while the enemy vanguard was undisciplined, this new wave of soldiers was the complete opposite, also well-equipped.

Gwayne now is forced to ready his army and prepare for contact with the enemy.

He would have preferred to charge them as they were crossing the river, but that would give them an opportunity to lead a separate detachment of cavalry and seize their most valuable asset, the scorpions.

This means that his footmen will have to hold against a higher number of disciplined, skilled infantry. Along with thousands of heavy cavalry charging into their flanks.

Damn him for falling into this trap!

The marching enemies suddenly stopped in their tracks, opening a way for some of them to drag along some interesting contraptions.

He took the far eye from his vassal and closely examined them.

It was some sort of wooden device, holding big rocks through a rope.

It looks like a small, strange, catapult. But those were surely only used in sieges?

He was unfortunately proved wrong as these contraptions threw the rocks at a great distance, crushing soldiers under their weight.

Gwayne then realized that he lost.

The enemy won't budge, now that they have these queer catapults, they could just gather rocks and throw them at them, meaning that now his troops have to move.

If they advance then they could just hold them off while sending their cavalry and taking away their scorpions, allowing the prince's dragon to burn them.

They could retreat, but the scorpions are made of metal, and so very heavy and slow to move, which will give the enemy enough time to kill half of them with their catapults, and if they leave the scorpions? Gwayne looked again at the purple dragon flying over their rear.

Then they will burn.

"Wave the white flag, we will surrender." He said with a tone of resignation.

________________________________________________________________________________________

Qoren Martell I.

He took another sip of his wine, Dornish Red, the finest wine in the world.

"How goes our troops"He asked.

"Your Grace! We have gathered the majority of our levies, a formidable four thousand spears, and five hundred cavalries, Lady Jordayne of the Tor came with a thousand spears, but only dozens of horses. Lord Toland brings two thousand infantry and five hundred cavalries also. Lord Gargalen raised three thousand footmen but almost no cavalry. Lords Vaith and Allyrion sent missives that say that they already gathered a combined force of five and fifty hundred infantry, along with two thousand cavalries."

"So a total of... five and ten thousand and five hundred spears, along with two thousand and five hundred cavalries, is that right, Maester?"

"Yes, your Grace."

"Excellent, what of the news about Yronwoods?"

"Uh... Your Grace, Gwayne Yronwood led most of his forces against the boy prince, but we just received reports that he lost, miserably, and had no choice but to surrender, there is also news that Lord Gwayne was relieved of his command by the boy prince, who instead put his brother in charge of their troops.

They say they are currently marching on us posthaste. Your Grace."

Well, that was disappointing, he hoped that both would just destroy each other. Nevertheless, with the Daynes, Fowlers, and co. He would be able to outnumber them while holding an advantageous position.

And just as the Yellow Toad did, he emptied all the settlements and castles, so if the Targaryen wanted to conquer Dorne, he will have to kill me.

But my head isn't so easy to get, now he only has to make sure to take the boy alive, and he would be able to put the Targaryens on their knees.