The battle erupted suddenly.
To everyone's surprise, the Dornish initiated the attack first—they had archers, allowing them to strike from a distance. In contrast, the Reach forces, positioned defensively, had no archers at all.
With Eagle's Point having been established so recently, more specialized units like archers, who required both substantial funding and long training periods, were still missing from its ranks.
Fortunately, the Reach forces held the higher ground on the ridge. By the time the Dornish arrows reached them, much of their momentum had dissipated. Combined with the protection offered by their wooden barricades, the arrows posed minimal threat, hardly causing any real harm. However, they did keep the Reach soldiers pinned down, wary of exposing themselves.
When the Dornish advanced closer, the Reach forces finally launched their counterattack—hurling spears.
Although spears lack the range of arrows, they're incredibly powerful. Hundreds of spears rained down upon the Dornish ranks like a deadly storm, sending shivers down the spines of all who witnessed the sight. Positioned on higher ground, the Reach soldiers enjoyed the advantage of gravity, adding even greater force to each throw.
Without shields, any Dornish soldier hit by a spear faced either death or serious injury, as their leather armor offered little protection against such heavy blows.
This first barrage of spears effectively suppressed the Dornish archers' assault.
Accompanied by the pounding of war drums, the Dornish continued their advance, but soon faced an even greater obstacle—the trenches.
The Reach forces had dug deep, wide trenches before the barricades, forcing the Dornish to slide down into them and climb up the other side, only to be met with spear thrusts from behind the barricades.
The blood quickly soaked into the earth, filling the trenches with a growing number of Dornish corpses.
When the Dornish had previously attacked Eagle's Point, the Reach soldiers had set up a similar defensive perimeter. But back then, their numbers were too limited, making it easy for the Dornish to exploit gaps in their defenses.
Now, however, the circumstances were different.
The Dornish were funneled through this narrow mountain path, surrounded by jagged terrain, which allowed the Reach forces to concentrate their defenses, naturally giving them the upper hand.
The fighting continued until dusk before the Dornish finally called off their initial assault. Leaving behind a hundred or so corpses, they retreated, unable to breach even the Reach's first defensive line.
The Reach soldiers erupted into cheers, celebrating their victory.
Yet Samwell remained reserved, knowing full well that this was merely a probing attack, meant to gauge the Reach forces' defenses. The real test would come tomorrow.
And sure enough, after a night of rest, the Dornish launched another assault.
This time, they came better prepared, bringing soil and stones to fill the trenches and ladders to scale the barricades.
Amid the rumbling of war drums, a swarm of Dornish soldiers charged up the mountain path once more. Unlike yesterday's cautious probe, today they were reckless, throwing themselves forward without regard for casualties. They filled the trenches with earth and even the bodies of their fallen, using ladders to scale the wooden barricades.
Yet even so, getting past the barricade was no easy feat. Scaling ladders left the soldiers vulnerable, as they couldn't hold up shields while climbing. This made them prime targets for the Reach spearmen. And if any of them managed to cross the barricade and leap into the Reach formation, they were essentially leaping to their death without immediate support.
Still, the Dornish assault did not cease. Siege warfare often demanded a heavy cost in lives, and the Dornish commanders had no qualms about making their men pay that price.
The ridge's defensive line became a grisly meat grinder, devouring mostly Dornish lives, though Reach casualties began to mount as well. Corpses piled up before the barricades, not only filling the trench but forming a hill of bodies at the barricade.
At this point, the Dornish no longer needed ladders—they could scale the barricade on foot, climbing over the mound of bodies.
Luckily, Samwell had prepared a second line of defense on another elevated slope behind the first.
When it became clear that the first barricade was about to fall, he ordered his soldiers to retreat to the second line, taking advantage of a lull in the Dornish assault.
The Reach forces fell back, and the Dornish claimed the first line, cheering madly as they tore down the barricade. After a short rest, they resumed their attack on the second line.
The bloodshed continued.
This brutal combat carried on until sunset, with the Dornish finally retreating to their camp at dusk, giving the Reach soldiers a brief reprieve.
But the battle was far from over.
At dawn on the third day, the Dornish launched yet another assault.
Blood and death could not deter the Dornish forces or shake their resolve to reclaim their land.
Seeing the dire state of his troops, Samwell hefted his war hammer and joined the fray. Yet in a clash of this scale, even the most powerful individual could only do so much. Despite his formidable strength and skill, there was a limit to the enemies he could kill, and he, too, grew tired. After a while, he had to fall back to rest.
Still, Samwell's presence delayed the Dornish advance, and it wasn't until the fourth day that they managed to break through the second barricade.
From the ridge down to the dock, the Reach forces had constructed eight defensive lines along the mountain path.
After a brief respite, the Dornish resumed their assault.
By now, both sides were beyond exhaustion.
The narrow mountain path became a hellish battleground, each side sacrificing countless lives for every inch of ground gained or lost.
Yet the end was nowhere in sight.
The Dornish resilience and ferocity far exceeded Samwell's expectations. As the lines drew closer to the dock, his anxiety grew.
But the Seven had not abandoned him. On the seventh day of this blood-soaked struggle, the long-awaited reinforcements finally arrived!
Looking down at the troop ships sailing into the dock, bearing the familiar "Striding Huntsman" banners of House Tarly, Samwell couldn't help but feel a surge of emotion, even though he had little affection for his family.
At the end of the day, there's no one more reliable than your own blood!
"Reach reinforcements?"
The watchman on the hill relayed the news to Daemon Sand, who nearly felt faint. After all their grueling efforts, pushing this far and weakening the Reach defenders with heavy losses, the Reach reinforcements had still arrived.
Daemon hurried back to the command camp to report to Princess Arianne.
"How many troops?" Princess Arianne's voice remained calm.
"About two or three thousand, I'd estimate."
The princess gave Daemon a sharp glance, her tone turning icy.
"What, are you frightened?"
"Of course not!" Daemon answered loudly, though his voice then dropped to a murmur. "It's just that, well, I worry about the morale of our troops. And the knights from the other houses have started complaining about the heavy casualties their men are suffering…"
Princess Arianne stepped outside her tent, gazing at the distant Reach defenses, where cheers were erupting.
In stark contrast, many of the Dornish soldiers nearby were visibly dispirited.
Daemon caught up to her and overheard her voice, steely and resolute as iron:
"Three hundred years ago, Aegon the Conqueror came with three dragons and still couldn't make Dorne kneel. Do you think a few thousand Reach soldiers are enough to drive us back? No! I will not yield! Dorne will not yield! We will fight to the last breath and drive these invaders from our land!"
She turned sharply, her dark eyes flashing with a fierce, nearly fanatical light.
"Daemon! Summon the knights from every house to my tent—I want to see who's been whining!"
(End of Chapter)