At dawn, Ulrick Sand boarded his ship. Looking back, he saw banners of every color fluttering in the breeze, and lines of soldiers briskly jogging onto the ranks of ships lined up along the pier. Even in this tense moment, the army maintained basic order, avoiding the chaos of a mad scramble.
Dark leather armor, gleaming black scimitars, and dull yellow shields radiated an aura of bloodthirsty ferocity.
This was House Dayne's elite force!
Ulrick took a deep breath, the air heavy with a faint metallic tang. His heart surged with ambition.
The one thing that dampened his excitement was the absence of reinforcements from High Hermitage. Influenced by that wretched "Darkstar," Ser Gerold Dayne, several of House Dayne's vassal knights had also refused his call to arms.
This wasn't unexpected. As the strongest of House Dayne's offshoot branches, those High Hermitage folk wouldn't possibly support him. Perhaps they even hoped he'd fail, so that High Hermitage's Daynes might get a chance to take control of Starfall.
But there was no way he would lose.
Ulrick sneered.
This invasion, though hastily organized, wasn't some rash whim. He'd thought it through carefully.
He'd already scouted the situation at Eagle's Point: Samwell had barely two hundred soldiers fit for battle. Ulrick, on the other hand, had nearly two thousand elite warriors at his command.
Furthermore, Eagle's Point's castle wasn't even finished. This was his best opportunity to strike. If he didn't seize this moment to destroy it, once it was fully fortified, Starfall would be forced into a costly, frustrating deadlock.
"My lord, all troops are on board!"
"Good!" Ulrick turned toward Eagle's Point and raised his hand with conviction. "Set sail!"
"Yes, my lord!"
With a single command, a hundred sails unfurled, catching the wind and swelling out like crescent moons. Sharp prow blades cut through the waves, bearing down on Eagle's Point.
The commotion startled flocks of seabirds, which wheeled and shrieked in the sky above the fleet.
No one noticed that among them, a large falcon with pure white tail feathers skimmed low over the fleet, its sharp eyes glinting with a strange, human-like awareness.
In the next moment, the falcon beat its wings forcefully, shooting into the clouds like an arrow before vanishing from sight.
...
In an instant, the falcon soared over Eagle's Point, circling above the lord's manor.
The sight quickly drew the attention of many in the settlement below.
At that moment, the manor's wooden door opened, and Samwell stepped outside. The falcon swooped down, finally alighting on his shoulder.
"My people! The enemy is approaching. Are you ready for battle?"
"We'll fight for Lord Caesar!"
"Lord Caesar is invincible!"
Cheers erupted around him as Nara stared at Samwell and the falcon on his shoulder, her gaze transfixed.
"Mother," Natally whispered, leaning close to her. "Isn't Lord Caesar also blessed by the Old Gods?"
Nara continued staring at Samwell. "Yes."
Natally tilted her head in confusion. "But... isn't he a knight of the Seven?"
"I don't know..." Nara shook her head softly, her voice distant. "But if the gods will it so, they must have their reasons."
...
Just after midday, when the sun was at its peak, Ulrick stood at the bow of his ship, catching sight of Eagle's Point on the horizon.
As they drew closer, the shore came into view with increasing clarity, but his brow furrowed.
"Huh? Lord Ulrick, it looks like the people of the Reach know we're coming," remarked the attendant standing behind him, who had also noticed the scene on Eagle's Point.
Ulrick snorted. "Seems a few spies in Starfall slipped through our fingers. But so what? Let them prepare all they want. A few extra days won't be enough to complete their fortress."
This comment prompted laughter among the men behind him.
Clearly, they hadn't taken the resistance at Eagle's Point seriously.
After a while, Ulrick's expression grew serious. As they neared the beach, he ordered:
"Sound the horn. Prepare to land!"
"Yes, my lord!"
A deep horn sounded, followed by a chorus of war cries.
One by one, the ships were propelled by wind and wave onto the beach. Even before the vessels had come to a halt, Dornish warriors leaped out, splashing through knee-deep water and charging toward the shore.
Then, they stopped short, perplexed.
The anticipated enemy was nowhere in sight.
The shore was deserted.
Well, almost deserted. Far in the distance, behind a line of trenches and wooden barricades, they could make out people huddled behind fortifications.
Now what? Should they keep going?
The Dornish warriors glanced at each other, unsure. Their orders were to seize the beach, but nothing had been said about charging directly into enemy defenses.
Ulrick soon noticed the strange scene onshore.
"Are these Reachmen so cowardly?" he sneered.
In this situation, the defenders' best tactic would have been to meet the attackers on the beach, while the enemy troops were still tired and unorganized from the waves and journey. But rather than intercepting them on the sand, the Reachmen were hiding behind fortifications, too timid to engage them while they were vulnerable.
A bunch of cowards!
Ulrick's interest waned. With victory looking so easy, the thrill was gone.
His own ship, being much larger, couldn't beach itself like the smaller longships, so it docked at the pier.
They hadn't even destroyed the dock.
Ulrick was beginning to feel less like he was here to wage war and more like he was simply paying a visit.
"My lord, should we press forward?"
As soon as he disembarked, a knight approached with the question.
Ulrick smiled casually. "No rush. Have the men come ashore and rest. They should eat and regain their strength."
"Yes, my lord!"
And so, in this strange atmosphere, the battle began.
Neither side seemed to be in any particular hurry. One group sheltered behind fortifications, while the other leisurely disembarked and settled down to eat.
To an outsider, it might have looked like a mock skirmish, a planned exercise.
But, of course, this was no exercise.
Around two o'clock in the afternoon, with a command from Ulrick, the Dornish finally launched their first wave of attack.
With fierce cries, three hundred warriors clad in leather armor, wielding scimitars, charged toward the Reachmen's fortifications, beginning the bloody first chapter of the battle.
(End of Chapter)