Stormlands, Bronze Gate
The atmosphere within Bronze Gate was dark and grim.
News of the total destruction of the southern King's Landing army had already reached the city, sending waves of panic through its citizens, who were already anxious about the encroaching Reach forces. With no reinforcements, how could they possibly hold this fortress against the relentless Reach troops?
Sunlight streamed through the narrow windows, barely lighting up the dim hall.
Lord Ralph Buckler, the ruler of Bronze Gate, sat in the center of his hall, staring blankly at the entrance as though awaiting a visitor.
Footsteps grew louder, drawing Ralph's focus back. Soon, a young man, bearing a striking resemblance to Ralph, entered the hall.
"Dear cousin, I bring you greetings from King Stannis," said Ser Brus Buckler, bowing politely with a smile.
Ralph studied his long-absent cousin, his gaze lingering on the fiery red heart emblem on Brus's chest. In a weary tone, he noted, "You've changed your sigil."
"Not exactly," Brus replied, sitting beside him and revealing the traditional Buckler crest—a blue field with yellow buckles—on his cloak. "See, I've still kept the family's sigil."
Ralph's expression softened slightly. "So, Stannis sent you to persuade me to surrender?"
"It's not surrender—it's asking you to swear fealty to the true king, Stannis Baratheon, the rightful heir to the Iron Throne."
Ralph smirked. "Is your king prepared to drive away the Reach army camped outside my walls?"
Brus faltered, momentarily speechless.
Seeing this, Ralph didn't bother hiding his scorn. "What use is a king who does nothing for me?"
Brus retorted, "And what about the king you serve? That bastard boy on the Iron Throne—is he going to help you keep this castle?"
"At least he sent an army of sixty thousand to aid me, though the Reach crushed them. But that's a help I'll remember. And Stannis? He sent you alone and expects me to bend the knee. Does he think all Stormlands nobles are his family's pets? Just look—how many houses have truly recognized him as king?"
"King Stannis has not been idle," Brus replied. "When I left, the royal fleet was preparing on Dragonstone. Within days, they'll launch an attack on King's Landing. So, if you hold out a little longer, you may soon hear of King Stannis claiming the Iron Throne."
Ralph's eyes lit up with a flicker of hope. He considered for a moment before nodding firmly, "Very well. May that news come soon."
"It will, I'm certain."
---
Outside Bronze Gate, Reach Army Encampment
"Did Lord Ralph refuse?" asked Armand Peake.
"Yes, my lord," replied the messenger.
Armand sighed, a bit disappointed, and turned to Lord Randyll Tarly. "It seems Lord Ralph isn't keen on taking me as a son-in-law."
Although the Reach army had Bronze Gate under siege, they hadn't yet attacked. They were using the time to cut down trees to construct siege equipment and sending envoys to negotiate a peaceful surrender if possible.
The offer from the Reach involved marrying Lord Ralph's daughter to Armand Peake, second son of the Lord of Starpike. This alliance with the Reach would secure peace without bloodshed.
Samwell's ultimate target in the Stormlands was Storm's End itself. Any other captured castles would be redistributed among the Reach nobles. As a strong supporter of the Reach cause, House Peake was a key ally in need of rewards, especially after the incident in the Kingswood, where a Peake knight had been executed for disobeying orders. The marriage proposal was, in part, meant to appease House Peake.
But it seemed the Bucklers were unwilling to accept this "honorable" offer.
Randyll Tarly remarked, "Once we breach Bronze Gate, Lord Ralph's opinions will no longer matter."
Armand chuckled heartily, then took his leave.
Randyll turned to his son. "Have your men prepare; we'll assault the city tomorrow."
"Understood," Samwell replied, smiling with confidence. Gunpowder might not be enough for Storm's End, but it should handle Bronze Gate easily.
However, the next day, Samwell's optimism proved premature—because it started to pour.
"The powder isn't damp, is it?" Samwell asked, slightly out of breath as he rushed to the logistics area where Qyburn was stationed.
"No," Qyburn replied calmly. "I covered the powder with waterproof oilcloth beforehand."
Relieved, Samwell nodded, though he knew the rain made it impossible to assault the city today.
And he realized a major weakness of Qyburn's black powder—its vulnerability to weather. If it rained, it became useless.
If the enemy became aware of this weakness, they would likely prepare accordingly.
Fortunately, the Reach army had the advantage and could choose their time to strike. But had they been the defenders, this secret weapon would have been rendered ineffective.
It was no wonder that black powder had existed for centuries in his world without seeing widespread use on battlefields—it was simply too limited in its applications.
The downpour continued for two days, keeping the Reach army idle outside Bronze Gate.
On the third day, though the rain had stopped, the ground was still waterlogged, and Samwell consulted Qyburn, deciding to wait an extra day.
Many Reach nobles were confused, finding it understandable not to assault during rain but baffled by the further delay. Several approached Randyll, only to be dismissed with a simple "The time isn't right."
Lord Ralph, watching from Bronze Gate, felt the same curiosity. He observed from the city walls but could glean nothing.
On the fourth day, Randyll held a military council and finally announced that the assault would begin that day.
The knights, eager and impatient, cheered in unison.
That morning, the Reach soldiers were served a hearty breakfast, with extra rations of meat and even a small amount of wine to prepare them for the assault.
Once they finished, the battle commenced.
As the horns' low rumble filled the plains, a dozen catapults launched massive stones at Bronzs Gate's corner towers. While accuracy was lacking, the flying stones still exerted a psychological impact.
Simultaneously, the Reach soldiers surged forward, their armor and weapons glinting like waves as they flooded toward Bronze Gate.
The defenders retaliated, unleashing a rain of arrows mixed with stones, logs, and boiling oil.
The brutal sounds of battle filled the air, creating a typical tableau of medieval siege warfare.
What was less typical, however, were the seven strange-looking carts mixed among the Reach infantry.
Each cart, mounted on four wheels and covered in a layer of iron, required over ten soldiers to push it forward toward the walls.
At first, the defenders thought the carts were battering rams.
But when the carts reached the walls without attempting to breach the gate, they began to grow suspicious.
Unfortunately, with the iron coverings on the carts, they had no effective way to respond.
"Are they digging tunnels?" asked Ser Brus Buckler, peeking over his shield.
"Tunnels?" scoffed Ralph Buckler. "Does Randyll Tarly think he can bring down the walls with a few tunnels? As if we haven't prepared moats and traps for this."
Brus shrugged, smirking. "It seems the famous Reach strategist is not so clever after all."
Ralph chuckled. "If this is all Randyll Tarly has up his sleeve, I may just hold out until King Stannis takes the Iron Throne."
As the two cousins bantered, the Reach army sounded another horn call.
Upon hearing it, the Reach soldiers retreated like a receding tide, leaving behind a hundred or so bodies, scattered armor, weapons—and the seven peculiar carts.
Ralph and Brus exchanged confused glances, utterly bewildered by the Reach army's unexpected maneuver.
(End of Chapter)