"Bitterbridge's defences have both its good and bad points," Randyll Tarly explained to the war council of the Reach, which assembled within Mace Tyrell's tent. Inside the tent was a model layout of the city made in clay, laid out for all to see. The full martial might of the Reach was present within the room.
Randyll Tarly, Leyton Hightower, Baelor Hightower, Mathis Rowan, Aerys Oakheart, Alester Florent, Mace Tyrell, almost all of the main generals save for Paxter Redwyne, who was commanding the fleet of the Reach and waging a defensive battle against the Ironborn in the Shield Islands were present in the room as Tarly began to explain his plan of attack. The Army of the Reach had finally reached the outskirts of Bitterbridge and had laid camp after which Mace had called a war council to discuss the impending attack on the city.
Taking a wooden cane and using it as a pointer, Tarly pointed to the walls and gates of Bitterbridge. "The bad news is that the gates of the city are very sturdy and will be hard to break through. So, they won't be broken down quite easily. The good news is that the walls of the city are not that high, and we will be able to reach the top of the walls with just our ladders."
"So, it's going to come down to a melee fight on top of the walls, eh?" Mathis Rowan asked, even as his keen eyes looked at the layout of the city looking and ascertaining for any sort of weaknesses.
"But isn't that what an offensive siege battle boils down to? It's not like we can't handle it anyway," Alester Florent spoke out, to which there were guarded nods amongst the other commanders in the room.
"The problem is not the city itself," came the voice of Leyton Hightower, who was also watching it in a pensive mood.
"The problem is the fact that the formidable Lannister Army in command of the city has nothing to distract them during the battle. Generally, in a siege, the defenders are usually forced to divide their attentions between repelling the invaders and maintaining the morale of the citizenry within. Due to the deeds they have committed while taking the city, the cursed Lannister's have no such needs weighing them down, allowing them to fully commit to the defence of the city, which is problematic for us," Leyton concluded, as he looked at Randyll, who nodded in agreement.
"Aye," Randyll replied, "As we know, we will be attacking the enemies from lower ground. In such a situation, the advantage always lies with those on the higher ground. In such a case, it is always a battle of uneven odds, namely five-to-one. For every single soldier of theirs that we kill, we will lose five of ours. With the calibre of the Lannister army facing us, that odds rise to ten-to-one. We will kill one of theirs for ten of ours. And that's the reason why we have mobilized the most of our men. Even then, the mechanics of siege war being as such, of every ten men that die, three will not even reach the top of the wall. It is the basic cost of such a war. At the very least, nearly three to four thousand of our men will die in just the attempt to scale the walls, regardless of the fact that they will not even see the top of it let alone cross blades with our enemies. This is an unavoidable toll in blood that must be paid."
"Agreed," rumbled Alester Florent, "And one which we will extract with interest from the cursed Lannister's," he roared, even as others pounded their fists on the table in the assent.
"The problem is not the cost of blood, it is the aftermath that worries me," opined old Lord Hightower, with creases marring his brow as he looked at the layout of the city.
"What we are seeing is a double-edged trap," he continued, "While we are invested in the siege, there is a real possibility of the army of the rebellion attacking us in our flanks. It is like a bear trap. If we focus completely on the siege, we will be vulnerable when the forces of the Rebellion attack us from the rear. And if we divest ourselves from the siege to respond to them, then that opens the path for the Lannister army to sally out from the city and attack us. We will be grinded down like grains of wheat caught between both ends of a miller's stone."
"I agree," opined Mathis Rowan, who looked at the layout of the forces. "In a sense, our huge manpower has become our greatest liability. If we invest the entire army in the siege, we can break through, but that leaves us vulnerable in the flanks. If we commit lesser numbers, we may weather the assault on our flanks that is sure to come, but the siege will fail as we will not be able to break through. We are starved for time, My Lords," he continued, even as he pointed to the board.
"We must break through the city as soon as possible, because make no mistake, Robert Baratheon and Eddard Stark will come for us. It is incumbent upon us to preserve as much of our fighting strength as possible. The bulk of the experienced soldiery of the Reach is currently with us. Their loss will be an irreplaceable damage to our might. To train new levies to gain this kind of experience again will take the work of a generation, something which we do not have," Rowan concluded, while the soldiers in the room grimaced.
"They may be cruel bastards, but those Lannister's are no idiots," Alester growled in anger, while others scowled at his words.
Suddenly, they were all interrupted when Mace Tyrell's squire, Horas Redwyne, appeared in the room.
"Yes, Horas, what is it?" Mace asked his squire, who was also his nephew, as to what had happened.
"We have word from our scouts that they have run into Dornish outriders near the border of Bitterbridge!" the boy replied breathlessly, as everyone sprang to their feet in alarm.
"WHAT!?"
"THE DORNISH! HERE?"
"WHAT THE HELL?"
"AREN'T THEY SUPPOSED TO BE AT STARPIKE?"
"Lord Tarly! Send out your men at once to find out what is going on!" Mace thundered, as he began to pace around. Randyll nodded curtly and walked out of the tent immediately.
"Are the Dornish attacking Bitterbridge?"
"Impossible! The Prince of Dorne is waiting for us at Starpike! He cannot be here!"
"Does he know that we are here?"
Multiple voices began to clamour about, when suddenly a deep gong sounded in the room. As one, all turned around to find Leyton Hightower banging his sword against a shield at the corner of the tent.
"It behoves us not to panic like flailing children!" his words were sharp and biting, and everyone else sobered down.
"We need to get in touch with whoever is in command of those Dornish men, and find out their intentions! We are currently in a truce with Dorne as our Lord has agreed to a parley with their Prince. We cannot break it by jumping to rash conclusions. We have already crossed blades with Quentyn Martell once and lost hideously. We must not repeat that mistake by overeager actions and impulsive behaviour!" he thundered, while others became silent at his chastening words.
"Let us take a break for now, My Friends! Once Lord Tarly returns with news we can decide upon the next course of action," Mace spoke out jovially, as everyone nodded and began to make their way out. From the corner, his father-in-law gave a curt nod of appreciation. Say what one could about Mace Tyrell, the Lord of Highgarden was unrivalled in putting people at ease and smoothening out ruffled feathers.
Four hours later, Randyll Tarly returned to camp with a group of Dornish soldiers, and amongst them was one very distinguished individual. Lord Anders Yronwood of Dorne.
Tarly had sent a runner ahead and apprised Mace that the commander of the Dornish Army wished to speak with Mace Tyrell personally to let them know of their intentions. Mace had taken the news with aplomb and with his usual efficiency in such matters, had laid out a great feast in such short notice.
Soon, as the party arrived and dismounted, Randyll led Yronwood to the head of the receiving delegation and made the introductions.
"Lord Tyrell, please allow me to introduce to you the commander of the Dornish Army, Lord Anders Yronwood, Warden of the Stoneway, and Lord of House Yronwood."
Mace was taken aback, he had expected to find a minor Lord of Dorne, not the most powerful bannerman sworn to House Martell itself. But he recovered quickly and put on a cheerful face and moved ahead to greet the man.
"Lord Yronwood! I am surprised to see someone of your stature at the head of some scouts! I was of the opinion that you were by the side of Prince Quentyn himself!" he greeted the man, even as Lord Yronwood bowed his head in acknowledgment.
"Come, please sit!" Mace Tyrell, ever the gracious host, led Yronwood to the seat of honour at the table and let him sit.
After basic refreshments were partaken, he got down to business, "Lord Yronwood, I was of the impression that Prince Quentyn would offer us no further hostilities until I parleyed with him! And yet now, we see the Dornish host near us! What are we to make of this?" he asked with a polite but firm tone, while Anders Yronwood acknowledged his points with a small nod.
Knowing that his next words could make or break the relationship with the Reach, Anders Yronwood mustered all the dignity and grace he could and replied, "Lord Tyrell, I can only inform you that Prince Quentyn Martell intends to wage total war upon House Lannister and to that effect has decided to attack Bitterbridge with the full might of Dorne. It is by no means intended as a slight to the Reach or to House Tyrell, but he will not be dissuaded on this, nor will the entirety of Dorne. Simply put, the very reason for which Dorne has entered the war is currently behind the walls of Bitterbridge and there is no Dornishman dead or alive who will yield on this," he admitted, while Mace reddened at hearing the words, even as the other lords of the Reach considered them.
"Lord Yronwood," it was old Lord Hightower who interjected first, "Forgive me, but I was under the impression that Quentyn Martell's target was Tywin Lannister, and as far as I know, the old lion still resides in Kings Landing. I fail to see the reason for such fervour from your prince considering that Tywin Lannister is absent and is not commanding the Lannister army within the city?" he asked with a raised eyebrow even as he silently made signs to Mace to quiet down for the moment.
After a moment, Lord Yronwood dipped his head acknowledging the point, "You are indeed correct, Lord Hightower, however, I must point out that although Lord Tywin Lannister is indeed one of the targets for our Prince, he is not the main target of his ire," he replied back, while everyone was taken aback.
"Not the main target?" Alester Florent asked nonplussed, while the others also showed signs of curiosity on their faces.
"We have irrefutable evidence," Yronwood continued, "that the mongrels, Gregor Clegane and Amory Lorch are currently ensconced within Bitterbridge as part of the Lannister Army," he continued, even as every man of the Reach present, jerked back in shock as if they were branded by a hot iron.
"Yes," Yronwood continued, "I see that you all recognize the import of these names," he continued, "Know this, My Lords, to gain his vengeance against these two men, there are no limits which our prince will not break, there is no boundaries that he will not cross, there is no action that he will not hesitate to undertake, as long as he can claim their heads. For this goal, he is prepared to fight the entire world if necessary! Their crimes against House Martell and Dorne are as such, and there is no Dornishman alive who will not lend his aid in this goal! Certainly, if the crimes those two worms committed in Kings Landing had been conducted against members of your house, then your honour and dignity would have demanded no less as that of my prince, Lord Tyrell," he finished in a guttural growl and pounded his fist on the table to emphasize his point.
"Indeed," Mace Tyrell sighed heavily, even as he recognized that he now stood on a very slippery slope, and he knew within the depths of his soul that standing against Quentyn Martell at this juncture could very well herald the end of the Reach itself.
His thoughts were interrupted as Randyll Tarly spoke out, "Lord Yronwood, you mentioned the full might of Dorne is now descending upon Bitterbridge. How many men is Prince Quentyn bringing to bear upon Bitterbridge? And who are his commanders for this battle?"
Lord Yronwood frowned, but he answered nonetheless, "Every able-bodied commander of Dorne rides with the Prince, who commands a host of nearly forty thousand men," here, all the men of the Reach paused as the numbers sunk into their minds.
"Nearly three times the men he brought to bear upon the field of Starpike then," Leyton Hightower spoke out with a sigh, to which Yronwood nodded before continuing, "Though the actual task of subduing Clegane and Lorch falls to Ser Arthur Dayne and Ser Barristan Selmy respectively, if my guess is right," he concluded while a few gasps emanated from the men around the table, while the eyes of Tarly and Hightower narrowed.
"The Sword of the Morning rides with the Dornish host? And Ser Barristan as well?" Mace asked with no little amount of shock as well, to which Yronwood nodded with a grim smile. A ripple of unease went through all the Lords of the Reach at that comment. To them it appeared as if Quentyn Martell was leaving no holds barred for this contest and it greatly unsettled them all.
After a few moments, Mace spoke out, "You have given us much to think about, Lord Yronwood. Kindly step out of the tent for a few moments so that I may confer with my fellow Lords about our next course of action. I ask for your forbearance on this matter," he concluded, to which Yronwood nodded, "It is your right, Lord Tyrell."
With a curt bow, the Dornish general stepped out, while Mace sighed in relief and turned to his vassals.
"Suggestions?" he asked quietly, while all his fellow Lords seemed rather despondent and unwilling to answer.
After a moment, Randyll Tarly spoke out, "We wait for the Prince of Dorne to arrive. Speaking with his second is useless. For any sort of accord to be reached, it is necessary for both sides to have their leaders present."
Leyton Hightower nodded in agreement, "Yes, that is a prudent course of action. Prince Quentyn will arrive within a few hours. Then we can parley with him and see how the wind blows," his father-in-law spoke out while Mace grimaced.
"And again, allow him to set the tone and pace between our interactions? I agree that after Starpike it was incumbent upon me to go and meet with him as he was the victor of the battle! But this is different, he has no stake in Bitterbridge! Bitterbridge is a stain on our honour and it is our responsibility to deal with it!" Mace growled, to some murmurs of approval from few of the hot-headed Lords present.
"Heavens preserve me from obstinate fools!" Leyton whispered to himself, before he rounded up on Mace, "As if you any longer have a choice in that matter! Quentyn Martell has already forced your hand! Or did you forget who exactly is inside that cursed city?! The very reason for very which every living Dornishman is up in arms against the very Rebellion is now within their reach! Do you really think they will give a damn about your wounded pride when their most sought-after prize is within their reach? We either join forces with the Dornish and wipe out the Lannister's or this will turn into a three-way battle which benefits none of us but only the Rebellion! Robert Baratheon will happily sacrifice the Lannister's if it means that all three of us exhaust ourselves against each other and then he can easily wipe out the remnants of this clash at his leisure! I don't know about Dorne, but the Reach will end up as the biggest loser in such a debacle! I for one do not desire to see such a thing happen!" the old man pounded his fist on the table and glared at everyone as if daring them to counter his arguments. No one did.
After a few moments of sullen silence, Mace pounded his fist in a fit of sullen pique, "I did not want to admit it, but gods damnit, you are right! I hate the fact that I have been forced into such a corner but I will not allow the Reach to suffer anymore! All right," he huffed, even as he let out a deep breath, "We will do as you say, Lord Hightower," he added formally, while most of the Lords looked at their liege lord in surprise and in some cases disguised relief.
"In the meantime," Old Hightower continued, "Let us make best use of the situation at hand. Anders Yronwood is known far and wide as a brilliant commander. For Quentyn Martell of all people to have chosen him as the commander of the Dornish vanguard means he must have no little amount of skill! As we share the same goal, let us propose to have him and his men join the efforts of Lord Tarly in taking control of the surroundings of Bitterbridge. The level of co-operation they will provide will allow us to judge the truthfulness of their actions. Quentyn Martell is not the only one who has a right to manipulate others to serve his needs! We can and will do the same to him and his people as well," he proposed, even as he looked at everyone for approval.
After a moment, all the commanders present gave their assent by thumping the table in front of them by their hands one after the other, and finally Mace Tyrell nodded his head in agreement.
"Then we are agreed on this course of action," Mace nodded in agreement, "Lord Tarly, if you will kindly escort Lord Yronwood back in here?" he asked after a moment's pause, to which the stern Lord of Hornhill nodded in agreement and walked out.
Unknown to them all that time, their collective decisions had just laid the foundation of a world-changing event.