Chapter 465 - The Fear in Highgarden.

Chapter 465: Chapter 465 - The Fear in Highgarden.

[Chapter Size: 3800 Words.]

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Third Person POV

Reach, 300 AC.

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It was not at all pleasant to see men running desperately toward Highgarden, many of them wounded and bleeding.

That made it clear that the force they had managed to gather had been defeated and forced to retreat, making Willas wonder whether it had truly been worth sending so many men only to watch them succumb before the enemy.

The sight drastically lowered the morale of the rest of the castle, and fear was beginning to show in all those whose duty it was to protect the walls when Highgarden became the next target...

Willas, with his cane, quickly made his way to the courtyard as the men shouted, watching the first survivors run inside through the gates.

"My lord! My lord! They’re monsters!" some of the men shouted as the knights tried to keep everything under control.

"Quiet! Stand aside!" one of the knights ordered, although he himself did not seem very pleased with the situation.

"Wait there." Willas approached one of the men who had fought. The man’s arm was injured, though not severed, and blood ran from the wound.

Upon recognizing Lord Willas, he looked at him in fright. "My lord... we can’t defeat them. They’re monsters," the man kept repeating.

"Tell me exactly what happened," Willas asked, approaching with a grim expression.

"They didn’t attack the way the commander said they would. At first, they simply started firing arrows, even though they were so far away. I’ve never seen anything like it. It was those... those giant men. They started killing everyone with those equally enormous arrows." The man began to babble, while Willas could not help growing irritated.

He had warned the commander to be careful of the giants’ range. Somehow, those creatures could launch their enormous arrows over incredible distances, giving them an absurd advantage against any enemy formation.

And, from what he was hearing, the man had positioned the army in the worst possible way.

A knight quickly rode through the gate. His armor was covered in blood, and one of his shoulders had been badly wounded, forcing him to control the horse using only one arm. Strapped to his mount, he carried a sack.

"Ser Belleric! Where are the others?" Willas asked.

The man tried to dismount, but because of his wound, he lost his balance and fell to the ground.

"Help him!" Willas ordered immediately, and his men quickly lifted him up.

The knight approached, limping and panting. He removed his helmet, letting it fall to the ground, while his eyes showed nothing but fear.

"They told me to bring this." The man took the sack and began to turn it over.

Something round fell to the ground. Everyone already imagined what it was before they even saw it completely.

A severed head, it was the commander himself. The man who had been at the head of that force.

"They said..." the man continued before anyone could say anything. "Next time, send real soldiers to fight, not just farmers."

With those words, Willas turned to his men as they began shouting orders. The first thing to do was try to bring the chaos under control.

More and more survivors ran through the gates. From the balconies, Willas could see the ladies, as well as women and children from the city, watching everything in horror. Some desperately searched for fathers, brothers, or sons, while others began to cry upon receiving some news.

And getting any information was quite rare amid that chaos.

According to the reports, the moment the enemy cavalry advanced, the entire formation simply collapsed. And even before the cavalry attack, after the volleys of giant arrows, no one could pay attention to anything other than trying to save their own life.

Willas continued speaking with each of the men, asking exactly what had happened, what they remembered, and how the battle had ended.

Each new account was even less pleasant to hear. Willas clenched his fists as he looked at everything around him.

His great-uncle, Garth, approached and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Willas, I think we should go inside."

Willas nodded. As he was taken inside, he could see that most of the ladies who had sought refuge in Highgarden were already desperate. Some shouted orders at servants and knights. Others were even talking about abandoning the castle, clearly regretting having sought protection there.

Later, Willas continued listening to the accounts of the more educated men who had survived, with some knights managing to survive and escape amid the chaos. Most, however, claimed that many had died before they even had the opportunity to fight.

They called the Arcticans monsters, even the non-giants. They said they were unstoppable. They trampled men as though they were nothing, while swords could barely wound them. Even some knights claimed that Arctican weapons simply pierced through their armor, slaughtering anyone who tried to stand in their way.

Willas also heard about the offer Jon Arctic had made before the battle. The king had shouted to the entire Reach army that he had no intention of killing any of those men if they simply stepped out of his way. He gave them the opportunity to leave the field and even guaranteed that no lord would be allowed to retaliate against those who accepted his offer, for they would be under Jon Arctic’s own protection.

Willas could not suppress a cold laugh. Jon already acted as though he were the king of Westeros himself. As though everyone should simply kneel and obey his orders.

And the worst part was that Willas knew, more than he would like to admit, that Jon possessed enough power to act that way.

His family and a large portion of the Reach’s forces were in King’s Landing, while he remained there, at the mercy of an enemy who seemed impossible to stop.

That alone already placed House Tyrell in a terrible position before the Reach. How could the lords not feel angry? Their kingdom was about to be conquered. Their wives, their daughters, and their younger sons were at the mercy of the enemy, while the Tyrells had concentrated practically all their forces on their alliance with the Lannisters.

And, after the sacrifice of thirty thousand men from the Westerlands in an attempt to protect the Reach, the Tyrells now owed the Lannisters a debt they could not simply ignore.

They had a duty to continue fighting alongside the Lannisters. Even so, regardless of the outcome of that war, all the lords would end up spitting on the Tyrell name.

It was the decisions of their House that had led the Reach into that situation. Willas knew that, had they chosen another path, perhaps siding with Jon Arctic from the beginning, many lords would have condemned that decision. Some might even have rebelled in the face of such an unexpected shift in alliances.

But if the final outcome had been favorable, they all would have eventually fallen silent.

Lords always cared more about the result than the path taken to achieve it. They might complain and curse the Tyrells at first, but, faced with the victor and being on his side, they would soon smile, raise their cups, and say that their lords had made the right decision.

In the end, the same men who had once cursed them would be toasting beside them, laughing and celebrating as though they had never questioned their choices.

Now, however, it was different. The obsession with putting Margaery on the throne seemed to have brought nothing but ruin to their House.

Willas also could not stop thinking about his own sister. If this continued, Margaery, who was only days away from marrying King Joffrey, could once again find herself tied to a king considered a traitor if Jon Arctic won that war.

And she would be remembered as the woman who had married two defeated kings. Willas knew that, in a desperate situation, his grandmother might even try to arrange some kind of union, perhaps offering Margaery to become queen at Jon’s side, even if she had to share that position with other women.

But Willas was certain that Jon Arctic would never accept that.

In any case, Willas still had the option of surrendering. An opportunity he probably only had thanks to the gold used to settle the Reach’s old debt to Arctic.

But the problem remained the same. If he bowed his head without fighting, he would be considered weak. And his weakness would become yet another disgrace upon the Tyrell name.

"I don’t know what to do," he finally admitted, looking irritably at the maester and the castellan who remained by his side.

He had already spoken with his knights. Some favored surrender. Others insisted that they should still fight, claiming that they could withstand a siege.

Had they forgotten about the damned weapons of war the Arcticans possessed?

Willas remained trapped in that dilemma for two days. Until, finally, the Arctican army appeared on the horizon.

From the highest towers of Highgarden, it was already possible to see it.

Willas continued watching as that enormous force marched as though it had not massacred more than ten thousand men just two days earlier.

Of the eighteen thousand sent to face them, around two thousand had managed to return to Highgarden. The other six thousand survivors had scattered across the Reach.

After all, much of that army did not belong to Tyrell lands. Many had probably simply fled back to their homes, too terrified to continue fighting or even consider returning to fight.

The enemy march continued. The windows began to fill with people.

Nobles and commoners watched in horror as the army approached Highgarden, while around three thousand men rushed along the walls and defensive positions of the castle, desperately preparing to resist.

The siege was about to begin. Willas spent the next several hours watching as the army remained beside the city.

They did not advance. Aside from a few scouts scattered throughout the area, mostly animals from what he could tell. Dogs and birds had been sent into the city, apparently searching for any enemies who might have remained hidden.

Willas knew that some people had simply refused to abandon their homes.

Especially the elderly. Some old men had volunteered to remain in the city when the Arcticans arrived, preferring to give their places inside Highgarden to younger people who would need to be fed.

There were at least forty elderly people who had made that decision. Willas would remember all of their names.

In any case, the Arcticans did not invade the city. They did not begin looting homes or properties as many had feared.

Willas had already expected that. Jon had only one objective, and it was Highgarden.

They simply watched as the entire enemy camp began to be set up. Even though it was already mid-afternoon, no preparations for an immediate attack seemed to be taking place that day or during the night...

That was good, at least they would have some time.

The Arcticans set up their camp approximately five hundred meters from the castle. Looking from that distance, Willas could not see any sign that they had lost many men in the previous battle, although Willas certainly knew there had to be some wounded.

What Willas did not know was that Jon Arctic had personally spent the last few days healing his men with magic. The wounded who might have taken weeks to recover were walking normally again within minutes under his magic, while damaged armor was handed over to the dwarven blacksmiths for the necessary repairs.

Even so, few suits of armor had actually suffered significant damage. Most of the dented pieces were made of Eldenmetal.

The Valyrian steel armor, on the other hand, remained practically intact, far more resistant. None of the men protected by it had suffered serious injuries during the battle, turning those warriors into almost impenetrable opponents.

Willas had already heard frightening accounts from the survivors. They said that no matter how hard they tried to strike their enemies, all they managed to hear was the metallic sound of blades striking against their armor.

No damage. Meanwhile, the Arcticans continued advancing and killing everyone with ease. Their Valyrian steel weapons were dangerous even against knights protected by the finest armor the Reach could offer.

Willas spent much of that time listening to his men, calling each of the principal knights and advisors to ask their opinions about what they should do.

Late in the afternoon, a raven finally arrived, flying directly to him without going to the maester... Willas was no longer all that surprised, taking the message while everyone around him waited in silence.

The letter was simple. "You will open the gates for me, surrender all your men, and allow me to take Highgarden without having to destroy its gates or any part of the castle."

"I do not wish to kill anyone..."

"I will keep my word, just as I have been doing throughout this entire war..."

"Have I been massacring men since leaving the North? Yes... But when I say I will do something, believe every word that comes out of my mouth."

Willas looked at it and took a deep breath. At that moment, he already believed Jon Arctic’s word. At least the man did what he said he would do.

After all, he could have captured him during the negotiation and used him as a hostage to take Highgarden easily. He could have threatened his friends on the battlefield and demanded that the gates be opened. But he had not.

He had kept his word and simply let him leave, as though it meant nothing. As though taking Highgarden was inevitable either way.

That part irritated Willas, those people were dangerous. In any case, he decided to call a meeting. He summoned all the knights and ladies before dinner to inform them of the message he had received and hear their opinions.

Willas showed the parchment to everyone. The raven remained nearby, awaiting his response. The letter made it clear that the bird was supposed to carry the message back to Jon Arctic.

Willas did not doubt that the king himself was already watching everything through the raven’s eyes, from what he had read about how the ancient magic of the First Men worked, after all, he had begun studying it from the moment he could not understand how Jon had managed to block all the ravens years ago... After all, they had been at sea, and the castles of the Westerlands claimed that the ravens had never arrived to warn them about Jon Arctican after what had happened in Oldtown.

"I spoke with a Durwell soldier who arrived yesterday," said a lady. "He claimed that Lady Durwell gave Jon Arctic shelter. He did not attack her, nor did he force her to do anything. Furthermore, the Lannisters tried to prepare an ambush against them, and Jon Arctic protected the castle."

The man hesitated for a moment. "They also claim that Jon Arctic has a giant white dragon."

That immediately spread panic throughout the hall.

"That’s a lie! Dragons are extinct! He may have Targaryen blood, but there’s no way he has a dragon. If he did, why hasn’t he used it until now?"

Willas had already heard that, but for anyone who heard that a dragon had appeared out of nowhere, without any previous sightings, it was difficult to believe. There had been no reports of the dragon being used until now, so it was difficult to believe, even though his instincts told him that there was more to this story than the mere delusion of that man.

"Perhaps because he hasn’t needed to," replied an elderly knight, letting out a sigh. "Tell me, have these Arcticans faced any difficulty during this war?"

The hall fell silent and the man continued.

"They didn’t defeat an army twice their size without losing even a thousand men? From what I heard, only around five hundred of them died in that battle in the North. Then, they simply massacred our makeshift army without suffering any losses. Without suffering any losses!" He looked at everyone around him.

"Tell me exactly what we’re fighting against."

No one answered.

"We’re going to be slaughtered," the man concluded.

"Coward!" someone shouted. "You’re already giving up just like that?"

"If you want to die, that’s your problem, my friend. Look at what’s happened over the past few weeks. Lord Willas said their objective is Highgarden. They crossed the entire Reach, from the Durwell lands to the heart of our kingdom, without destroying a single castle. Nor did they attack villages or plunder the common people."

"That can only be a lie!" another knight retorted, also unwilling to believe those rumors. "I doubt they haven’t done it in secret. The news just hasn’t reached us yet. Where were they getting the food for this campaign? And I know men, they’re certainly raping our women, they’re just preventing those cases from reaching us..."

The man seemed determined to see the Arcticans as monsters, regardless of the evidence presented.

Willas finally interrupted the discussion. "We will hold our position."

Everyone turned their eyes toward him. He then continued.

"We’ll withstand the first few days of the attack. After that, we’ll see whether we truly have any chance of facing them or not."

Those present nodded, although their expressions remained grim.

The discussion continued.

The ladies, for the most part, favored surrender.

Willas let out a sigh as he listened to the knights, most of whom still wanted to fight. They wanted to defend Highgarden until the end, some even going against the wishes of the very ladies they had sworn to serve.

Willas could understand that everyone was afraid. He could not blame them. They were desperate while the enemy remained at the gates of Highgarden, about to attack them.

In any case, Willas left that banquet with a severe headache and went to where the raven remained. He wrote a reply and carefully tied the small letter to its leg.

The bird departed gracefully, making even the maester watch it with a certain fascination as it spread its wings and flew out the window.

Willas and the maester followed its flight until they saw it disappear in the direction of the enemy camp. Several campfires could be seen in the distance, but much of the camp’s illumination seemed to come from strange glowing crystals.

Willas had already heard of them, stones with some kind of magic. He was certain.

Although, unbeknownst to Willas, their workings were more genetic than magical, after all Jon Arctic had used the theory of photosynthesis and animals that glowed like fireflies to create a tree that would produce glowing crystals used more effectively than torches and lamps...

Something that would have been difficult to believe before that war, but Jon Arctic seemed determined to break practically every standard of what they knew in Westeros with Arctic technology.

Jon already knew what the answer would be before the raven even arrived. He entered the main tent, illuminated by the crystals scattered throughout the place, while Barristan Selmy and his principal commanders studied a map produced by the dwarves a few days earlier.

It was a detailed representation of Highgarden, far more up-to-date than the old maps they possessed.

The men pointed to each part of the structure, each entrance. Every possible weakness around the fortress...

"We can open a breach in this part of the wall. It has been weakened by time. There’s only a layer of mortar hiding two cracks, but you can still see that the structure is uneven," Ser Barristan explained, analyzing the drawing.

"We could bring this section down with a single wildfire explosion." He concluded.

"That’s true, but that’s not the message I want to send," Jon replied with a sigh as he looked at the map. "I want to do more than simply open a hole in the castle."

"My king, there are many civilians inside."

"I know. I’m not going to blow up the entire castle, but I need to send a message." Jon looked at the map again.

"I won’t kill or attack anyone outside it. The men we found inside the city beside the camp are safer than the people who hid behind the walls, precisely because we have no intention of attacking them."

He paused briefly.

"Even so, there is still disbelief among the lords of the Reach. We need to send a very clear message. Unfortunately, some lives may be lost, yes, but that was a choice they made after I made it perfectly clear that I’m not attacking civilians and even asked for their surrender. They want to wait a few days, I’ll make it a few hours before they finally surrender..."

Barristan merely nodded, saying nothing more.

"In any case, they themselves refused to surrender. There’s no longer any reason for us to hold back." Jon pointed to one of the structures on the map.

"Tomorrow we’re going to destroy one of the towers. It’s far from the side where the common people are camped inside the walls. After all, that’s where the gardens are..." His voice became serious.

Everyone around him nodded and understood. They had no intention of devastating Highgarden. But they would certainly leave a mark that would not be forgotten anytime soon.

Something as memorable as the burned towers of Harrenhal.

"Rest. Tomorrow we’ll put on just a small show."

With that, the commanders began to leave the tent.

"You could also ride Eragon and make all of them shit themselves in fear," Arya suggested as the others left.

Jon merely smiled. "Eragon will be used after we conquer Highgarden. I intend to put on quite a show by flying over the main cities of this kingdom the day after tomorrow."

"I want to be there with you..." Arya nodded as Jon gently touched her collar with one hand.

Jon stared at her, wearing a small smile. "Go get some rest. We have a battle tomorrow," he said, kissing her forehead.

Arya seemed to pout slightly before nodding. "All right. I just hope this siege doesn’t last longer than tomorrow," she said, walking away as Nymeria, who was already waiting for her outside, began to follow her.

"And it won’t last more than a few hours, I could even say minutes..." Jon replied, merely shaking his head, and Arya laughed.

The Tyrells would be unable to stop them.

Jon had countless options for conquering Highgarden. He could bring down its walls, use Eragon, or simply resort to wildfire.

He had chosen the last option.

He wanted to put on a show.

And if the Tyrells decided not to rebuild it, they would look upon that destroyed tower for generations to come and remember exactly what Arctic was capable of.

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