Game of Thrones: The Impaler of the Blue Fork

Chapter 97: The Burning Red Horse and the Veteran's Fall

Crow Valley, pastures on the south bank of the Blackwood River.

The spring grass here is much more fertile than in the Blue Fork Valley. When the breeze blows, the half-foot-high grass undulates like green waves.

In the distance, several enormous windmills belonging to the Blackwood family were creaking and groaning, with piles of provisions ready to be transported to the front lines outside.

Normally, there is at least a ranger squad of fifty men patrolling this place day and night.

But today, the entire ranch is so quiet that only the sound of the wind and the bleating of the sheep can be heard.

In order to completely lock down Hohenzollern, Tethos redeployed nearly 70% of the mobile forces of Raventree, leaving the city as a weak rear.

At the edge of the horizon, a line of yellowish-brown dust suddenly rose.

The ground began to tremble slightly. At first, it sounded like muffled thunder, but after a few breaths, it turned into the rapid and violent sound of horses' hooves.

"Enemy attack—!"

On the mill's watchtower, an old soldier shouted himself hoarse.

He frantically rang the alarm bell, but the weak sound seemed laughable in the face of the sweeping iron hooves.

More than a hundred lightly armed cavalrymen rushed out of the treeline like a flood bursting its banks.

They did not display any noble coat of arms, but on the rump of each warhorse was branded a striking red galloping horse—the emblem of the Brecken family's "Red Horse Standard".

Leading the group was Hendry, the illegitimate son of Earl Jonas Brecken. The young man was waving a lit torch.

"That little baron Hohenzollern wasn't lying to us! That old dog Tethos really isn't here!"

Hendry laughed wildly and threw the torch forcefully into a barn full of hay.

"Burn! Burn everything that can be burned! Drive away all the cattle and sheep! Today we'll show those peasants of Blackwood who the true masters of the Riverlands are!"

"boom--"

The hay, soaked with the morning dew of spring, was doused with kerosene and burst into flames that shot into the sky. Thick smoke, like a giant black pillar, pierced straight into the clouds.

Brecken's cavalry charged into the sheepfold like wolves, skillfully cutting down the mill guards who tried to resist and driving hundreds of fat sheep and cows out of the enclosure.

Torches were thrown everywhere, trampling not only the mill, but also the surrounding farmhouses, haystacks, and even the newly sown spring wheat fields.

Jonos Brecken didn't care about any lordly honor; all he knew was that if Tethos suffered a setback, he would be well-fed.

Two days later. Blue Fork Valley, Blackwood front camp.

Tytos Blackwood sat in his central command tent. Before him, on a sand table, were arranged black wooden blocks symbolizing the blockade.

It's been seven days.

There was no movement within the gray stone wall, no smoke from cooking fires, no neighing of horses, and not even the desperate cries of farmers could be heard.

The deathly silence did not reassure Tetos; instead, it stirred a sense of unease within him.

"grown ups."

A ranger adjutant lifted the tent flap and walked in, his face looking rather grim.

"We caught two merchants at the eastern outpost. They said... they said the Riverrun delegation is on its way here. Ser Lyman Tully is leading the delegation, and the White Knight of Hohenzollern is with him."

Tethos's brows furrowed sharply.

"Gareth went to Riverrun? When did that happen? Didn't I order all land routes sealed off?!"

"They used the sewers..." the adjutant swallowed hard. "And the merchants said the envoy from Riverrun carried Duke Horst's Thunder Order. The Duke believes we are thugs who attacked the Baron without cause and cut off the water supply..."

"fart!"

Tethos suddenly stood up and overturned the black wooden blocks on the sand table.

For the first time, a look of genuine shock and rage appeared on that weathered face.

"Didn't the Duke see those twenty-five pierced corpses?! Those were our elite troops!"

"Gareth...Gareth said those twenty-five were bandits who attacked the trade route, and that they were the ones who wiped them out..."

The adjutant's voice grew softer and softer; he didn't even dare to look the count in the eye.

Tethos slumped into his chair.

His brain, weathered by countless storms, pieced together all the fragmented information. He finally understood.

The nineteen-year-old Baron Hohenzollern never intended to fight him to the death in this muddy place.

But this was not the most despairing thing for Theodore.

"Report—!"

A piercing scream suddenly came from outside the tent.

A messenger on horseback stumbled and tumbled into the central command tent. He was covered in soot and had even lost his helmet.

"Sir! Urgent report from the rear! The Red Horse Flag... the Red Horse Flag has crossed the border!"

The messenger knelt on the ground, crying and grabbing the hem of Tethos's cloak.

"Breken's light cavalry burned three large mills on the south bank! They stole hundreds of cattle and sheep! Now they're advancing towards the villages north of the Blackwood River! Our home base is about to collapse!"

The central command tent was deathly silent.

Tytus Blackwood sat there stiffly.

His breathing was rapid, like a broken bellows, his eyes were fixed on the sand table, and his chest heaved violently.

"puff--"

Overwhelmed by extreme anger, the old-fashioned commander felt a sweet taste in his throat and spat a mouthful of blood onto the wooden frame of the sand table.

"My lord!" The adjutant rushed forward in alarm to support him.

Tethos pushed his adjutant away; he didn't wipe the blood from the corner of his mouth.

He turned his head and looked outside the tent. Although they were two miles apart, he could almost see clearly on the gray stone wall on the opposite bank, the young baron looking at him with a cold gaze.

Otto Hohenzollern nailed him to the Blue Fork River with twenty-five heads, not as a show of force, but to create the perfect opportunity for the Brecken family.

He was under the weight of Duke Horst's military orders from the front, and his mortal enemy was about to destroy his stronghold from the rear.

"Sir, what should we do? Should we send troops back to provide reinforcements?" the adjutant asked anxiously.

Tethos closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

When he opened his eyes again, the old general's eyes were no longer filled with anger.

"Dividing our forces is tantamount to suicide."

Tethos hoarsely issued the most humiliating order of his life.

"Order the entire army to break camp, burn any supplies that cannot be carried away, and retreat to Crowtree City."

"My lord! What about our grudge...?"

"withdraw!"

Tethos suddenly stood up, drew his longsword, and shattered the table in front of him with a single blow.

"That little beast isn't human, he's a monster who eats people without spitting out the bones! If we don't leave now, we'll all rot in this mud!"

An hour later.

On the high ground across the Blue Fork River, a raging fire broke out at Blackwood's camp.

That wasn't a signal of attack; it was the shameful fire of the defeated trying to cover up their tracks.

Large numbers of rangers and longbowmen, dejected, marched south in formation.

On the terrace of the highest level of the stone tower.

Otto Hohenzollern stood in the chilly spring wind, watching the long black dragon retreat in the distance like a stray dog.

His face was expressionless.

"Sir, they've left."

The steward, Pollifer, had appeared behind him at some point. He gazed at the distant smoke and dust, still clutching the old ledger tightly in his hand.

Otto turned around and put the iron ring back on his left hand.

His voice was calm.

"Let Torun take over the mudflats on the south bank, take down those twenty-five corpses, and boil them down to make fertilizer for the fields."

Otto looked toward the distant city of Flowing City.