Chapter 90 87

They had been chasing Brynden Tully for twenty minutes already. Winding turns, feints and maneuvers, horses pushed to their limit. The thrill of the chase had clouded their judgment. The target was so close, barely fifty yards, and the head of the rebellion's commander would be within reach.

In the end they were led into a canyon, the kind that was far from rare in the Vale.

Poor ground. One narrow path hemmed in by rock walls on both sides. The column will stretch thin. No cover anywhere, and only two ways out: forward and back. Concealed soldiers, ambushes, traps of all kinds, the terrain was made for it. A trap. But it does not matter.

"MY LORD!!! This ground is dangerous!" He already knew that.

What is his name? Rod or Red? I understand the Blackfish is luring me into a trap. And what of it? Whatever trick they have prepared, however many hundreds of men lie in wait, absolutely nothing will stop my men from driving straight through.

That was how Jasper Redfort thought and lived. But a moment later he heard the sound of an explosion at his back, felt the ground shake, and heard his men screaming.

...

"Lord Axel, why are we riding to help Redfort?" Few people had the right to call him by name, but Eyris was one of them. "If the Blackfish is there, his army is too. This is a trap set for you."

"You are right." There was no point denying the obvious. "They want to catch us and cut us down. Brynden has worked out that I favor a mobile cavalry force. For the trap he will use the terrain, since he does not have the numbers to encircle us otherwise."

"Then why?"

"A trap is a blade that cuts both ways. If you know it is there, its effectiveness drops sharply. We know where the enemy is, what he has prepared, and what forces he has to work with. Brynden Tully is a master of partisan warfare and could run circles around the Vale for a long time yet, interfering with my plans. Here and now we end the rebellion."

"It is a serious risk to you." It was plain the plan did not sit well with him.

"What sort of war has no risk in it? Especially when the risk is rewarded." Eyris really was a dedicated pessimist. "But to keep that risk to a minimum, I have sent Desmond an eagle with orders to push the pace. The rebel troops are not the finest warriors to begin with, their morale is low, and two months of this has worn them ragged. Against them will stand Redfort's household knights. The numbers are not in their favor, but the raw quality of Jasper's men is far higher."

...

What?!

Turning around, Jasper took in an unpleasant sight. Dozens of boulders, each as large as a man, scattered across the canyon floor. He watched his men crushed or thrown down by the rocks. It cut him to the heart. Jasper had lived and grown and trained alongside these men, and they had been killed by a cowardly attack. A darker part of him mourned the loss of such resources. You could not hand a man a suit of armor and call him a knight. A knight was years of training, an enormous investment of gold, and the experience of a dozen fights where death was real.

"My lord Jasper! Seven be praised, you are alive." There was no time for this.

"Casualties?" He needed to know the scale of the problem quickly.

"By my count we have lost nearly a third of our men." His soldiers were shaken to the core and could barely believe it themselves as they spoke.

"A third, you say?" A few quick calculations, and he made his decision. "That is enough! Forward!"

"Wait, my lord! More traps like this one are waiting ahead! Keep going and we are simply doing the enemy's work for him." The man did not understand the full picture and was trying to make his case. "What is more, if we push further we will be completely cut off from our allies. The enemy will be sending forces to meet us head on. We must pull back and regroup for now."

"To the seven hells with all of it." People like this grated on him. "WHAT REGROUPING ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT WHEN THE ENEMY COMMANDER IS RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY EYES."

Twenty yards. A mere twenty yards stood between him and the head of that dishonorable bastard.