Sandstone sat at the heart of the western Dornish desert, the seat of House Qorgyle. The city was infamous for its scorpions, so much so that even the Qorgyle family crest bore three black scorpions.
Back when King Daeron I conquered Dorne, he sent a Tyrell duke to govern as the Warden of Dorne. But the poor Tyrell met his end in Sandstone, his body reportedly covered in red scorpions when he was found. Years later, "Red Viper" Prince Oberyn of Dorne spent part of his youth fostered in Sandstone, and some say his fascination with poisons began there.
To outsiders, Sandstone had a reputation as a perilous, even sinister, place. However, in reality, it had been spared war and strife for over a century. Most Dornish in Sandstone lived more peacefully than many in the Seven Kingdoms, seemingly undisturbed by the city's lethal reputation.
But if threatened, Sandstone's inhabitants could transform, revealing a fierce, merciless side. In a city where the scorpion was a symbol, it was hardly a place of lambs.
"Out of the way! Clear the road!"
A knight of House Qorgyle spurred his horse through the streets, shouting as he scattered the people. Dust clouds rose in his wake as he galloped into the castle courtyard.
The castle guards recognized Ser Mors but had never seen him in such an agitated state. They exchanged looks, wondering what news he bore as he burst into the council chamber.
"Ruback! Quickly! Send word to the lord! It's urgent!"
"What's happened?" asked Ruback, Sandstone's castellan, looking up in alarm. "Has one of our supply convoys been ambushed?"
"If only it were that simple. It's about Ser Gullian!"
Ruback started, immediately concerned. He knew Lord Quentyn's eldest son had ridden out with their cavalry to pursue the Riverlands raiders nearby. "What happened?" he asked.
"He's dead!" Ser Mors spat out angrily.
"This… isn't a jest?"
"The entire cavalry force was annihilated. Over three hundred corpses left to rot in the sands. The news only reached me this morning. I went out there myself and ordered the men's bodies gathered. But now, you need to send word of this disaster to our lord."
Ruback didn't move immediately, taking in the shock of the news. After a pause, he said, "No, first we need to catch whoever killed Ser Gulian. If we don't, the lord will—"
"Catch them? How? House Qorgyle's cavalry is gone! You want me to pursue mounted soldiers on foot?"
"It's not impossible."
"You've lost your senses!" Mors retorted, thinking his friend had been unhinged by the news.
Ruback, however, remained calm, explaining, "You've been wondering where Lady Obara went, haven't you? I'll tell you now—she's disguised herself as a Riverlands mercenary and infiltrated the raiders' ranks. With her help, Ser Gullian was able to track down the Riverlands cavalry."
"Using the purple-tailed scorpions?"
"Precisely." Ruback nodded. "So take some hounds and eight hundred soldiers. If that's not enough, we'll raise a levy. When the people hear of Ser Gullian's death, they'll be more than willing to fight for revenge. We must capture these killers. We can't face Lord Quentyn without results."
Mors hesitated. "But we don't know the exact strength of our enemy. If they managed to wipe out Ser Gulian's force, it may be—"
"They won't be more than two hundred strong!" Ruback insisted. "There are only two thousand riders total in this Dornish campaign, a figure we learned from a certain knight of House Dayne. These forces are dispersed across Dorne. Here in Sandstone's territory, we face just this one two-hundred-man cavalry. They may have bested Ser Gullian, but they would have taken heavy losses. Track them down, and we'll defeat them!"
Seeing Ruback's logic, Mors nodded. And he understood he had little choice; if Lord Quentyn returned to find his heir dead while he had done nothing, there would be no pardon. And Lady Obara was with the enemy, infiltrating the Riverlands force. The city couldn't allow her to disappear with them, especially if her cover were blown.
"Fine! I'll leave immediately."
---
At dawn's first light, a white-tailed falcon circled high above Sandstone.
Soon, the gates creaked open, and a supply convoy began to trickle out of the city.
Hidden on the far side of a sand dune, Samwell observed this scene with rising excitement.
Since learning a supply convoy left Sandstone every ten days, he had been waiting in the shadows for just this chance. But raiding the convoy wasn't his aim. He wanted something much bigger—
The capture of Sandstone itself.
Taking a city like Sandstone with just two hundred riders seemed impossible, yet Samwell saw an opportunity.
House Qorgyle's main force was at the front lines, leaving the city largely unguarded. Samwell had also managed to draw out Sandstone's last defenders with a ruse, sending a few riders as decoys to lead the remaining Dornish forces on a wild chase through the desert.
Now, a thousand Dornish soldiers were scouring the sands, completely unaware that Samwell and his main force had circled back to strike at Sandstone itself.
There couldn't be many defenders left in the city. Samwell thought it worth the risk.
Originally, he'd aimed for caution and discretion, but after destroying House Qorgyle's cavalry and drawing away its remaining garrison, the temptation had grown too great.
Watching the unprepared supply convoy, Samwell clenched his jaw and gave the order.
"Forward! Take the city!"
The riders from Horn Hill, having fought under Samwell at the Battle of Starfall, trusted him almost as much as they trusted Lord Randyll. The Vale soldiers, too, were wholly devoted after witnessing Samwell's stunning victory against the Dornish cavalry. Despite the gamble inherent in his command, not a single soldier hesitated.
They spurred their horses forward, galloping into action.
Their approach shattered the morning calm. Beneath the pale dawn light, the dark mass of riders moved like a wave toward the city gates.
The convoy at the gate froze in confusion. As the newcomers approached under House Qorgyle's colors, the convoy assumed it was a returning patrol.
Only when the guard captain arrived, frantically shouting that the Qorgyle cavalry had been annihilated, did the convoy realize the truth.
Chaos erupted.
The convoy workers scattered, while guards frantically tried to pull the carts clear so the gates could close. But the cavalry closed in before they could secure the gate, giving the defenders no time to react.
Bloodshed filled the morning mist as the assault commenced.
When the castle's alarm bell sounded, Castellan Ruback was jolted from his routine. His face paled as he processed the report from a bloodied guard who arrived moments later.
As he grasped the full gravity of the situation, Ruback steeled himself, then rallied the soldiers gathered around him.
"Everyone!" he shouted. "Stay calm! The Reach men have made a fatal mistake by entering the city. Ser Mors will be here soon, tracking their trail. All we need to do is hold out a little while, and these invaders will be trapped!"
Raising his sword, Ruback led his soldiers toward the gate.
In the streets, carnage filled the air as Sandstone was transformed into a battleground.
The cavalry cut through the city's defenders with ruthless precision, scattering the disoriented soldiers and cutting down anyone who resisted. Arrows whistled through the air, swords clashed, and the cries of the wounded rose amid the pounding of hooves.
Breaking through a city gate was the greatest challenge for cavalry. Once inside, the battle shifted in their favor.
However, Samwell now faced a tricky problem: eliminating the city's remaining defenders without foot soldiers of his own.
Fighting through the cramped alleys and winding streets would favor the Dornish defenders, but Samwell had no intention of engaging in a lengthy occupation. His goal was simple—take what he needed and leave.
The riders quickly located Sandstone's granaries, tossing torches onto the thatched roofs. Moments later, fire blazed up from the warehouses, sending plumes of dark smoke into the air.
Enraged Dornish soldiers and citizens rallied to defend their city, rushing at the attackers with wild desperation. Some were trained soldiers, while others were mere civilians armed with knives, charging forward with reckless fury.
Around the burning granaries, the battle intensified, each side suffering casualties as the blood-streaked ground turned the fight into a grisly slaughterhouse.
Despite the Dornish fervor, the battle tilted in the Reach's favor. Their well-armored cavalry outmatched the poorly equipped Dornish defenders, who would have been more effective in guerrilla tactics than direct combat.
Seeing his forces dwindling, Castellan Ruback realized the dire situation. Worse, the reinforcements he'd expected—Mors's forces following the Reach calvary trail—were nowhere in sight.
As the Dornish numbers continued to fall, panic set in, and soon the survivors scattered.
Ruback tried to flee but was struck down, an arrow pinning him to the ground.
Samwell had been watching him, recognizing him as the source of commands. Riding over, he leveled his blood-streaked warhammer at Ruback's chest and spoke in an even tone.
"Take me to House Qorglye Vault's, if not I'll burn down the whole castle "
(End of Chapter)