Rows of Reach cavalry galloped through the streets of Bronze Gate.
"Hurry! Secure the north, east, and west gates first!" ordered Lord Randyll Tarly calmly, directing his men.
He then led his own troops toward the Buckler family's stronghold at the center of the city.
Though the Stormlanders were still resisting within the city, the sheer terror of the initial breach had broken their spirit. Many had lost their nerve completely. Chaotic and unorganized, they could only crash helplessly against the disciplined Reach soldiers, who easily cut down the disorganized defenders.
The morale of the Reach army was high, and their swords flashed as they ruthlessly crushed every remaining line of resistance.
Squadrons of cavalry rode through the streets, hunting for high-value targets, each man hoping to win glory.
Indeed, there was glory to be won.
Ser Omer Oakheart was among those who eagerly sought it. Capturing Lord Ralph Buckler himself, after all, would bring tremendous honor.
Despite the appearance of unity among the Reach nobles in the eastward advance, an undercurrent of tension was unavoidable between the Horse Party and the Stag Party factions.
The Horse Party was dominant now, with the Tarlys and their allies leading this campaign in Storm's End's direction. For this northern Reach force, the primary objectives would clearly go to the Tarlys and to House Caesar; Storm's End itself was reserved for them, and everyone knew it. But there were plenty of other castles in the Stormlands beyond Storm's End, and those were still open for competition.
Ser Omer Oakheart understood that the Tarly had already proposed a marriage alliance to Lord Buckler, suggesting that Lady Buckler marry Ser Armand Peake. This was a clear sign that Lord Tarly intended to hand Bronze Gate to the Peakes.
But if Ser Omer could achieve a great feat, even the Tarly would be hard-pressed to ignore it and simply hand the city over to House Peake without sparking discontent among the Reach lords.
The Oakhearts were part of the Stag Party, and if they wanted to gain anything from this war, they couldn't wait for the Horse Party to dole out rewards—they would have to fight for it themselves.
However, before pursuing any personal ambition, Ser Omer Oakheart still had to complete his assigned task.
Lord Tarly had ordered him to secure the east gate, and when he and his men arrived, they found the area in chaos. The garrison had vanished, leaving only a desperate mass of Stormland civilians, all trying to flee the city, bottlenecked at the narrow gate.
Ser Omer left a detachment of his men to secure the gate and led the rest in a charge toward the Buckler stronghold.
When they arrived, however, they found it already breached.
Ser Omer was briefly dismayed, but upon further inquiry, he learned that Lord Ralph Buckler had fled, fearing the Reach might blow apart his castle just as they had the city wall.
Relieved by this news, Ser Omer hastily interrogated the remaining servants to determine where Lord Buckler might have fled, then spurred his horse south in pursuit.
As he pressed deeper into the southern parts of Bronze Gate, he encountered stiffer resistance. The Reach army had entered from the north, and the southern quarters had yet to be fully secured.
Bronze Gate was, after all, the ancestral home of House Buckler, so there were loyal soldiers determined to defend it.
Caught up in the chaotic streets, Ser Omer quickly found himself bogged down by scattered resistance.
"Cut them down! Push through!" he shouted.
The clash of blades, the screams of wounded horses, and the curses of men filled the air. Waves of Stormland defenders fell, only for fresh bodies to surge forward.
Ser Omer fought on, bloodied and determined, but gradually he realized the battle had devolved into a hopeless melee.
Pinned down in the narrow streets, his cavalry couldn't make use of their speed and power. Watching his men fall one by one, Ser Omer understood he had overstepped in his pursuit of glory.
"Retreat! Fall back!" he ordered, attempting to fight his way back.
But at that moment, an arrow shot out from the chaos, striking his horse squarely.
With a terrible cry, his horse collapsed, pinning Ser Omer's leg beneath its weight. He struggled, but could not free himself.
Stormlanders, sensing his vulnerability like sharks scenting blood, swarmed him.
It was impossible to tell now whether these were Buckler soldiers or ordinary civilians. But by this point, there was no difference.
The war was lost for them, but they would make the Reach pay for it. Unable to challenge the main Reach forces, they took their vengeance on the knight who had fallen before them.
The Stormlanders converged on him, hacking Ser Omer Oakheart to pieces where he lay.
---
Elsewhere, Samwell was still positioned near the collapsed northern wall, basking in the victory.
"Are you certain this kind of force won't be enough to break the walls of Storm's End?" he asked Melisandre, who stood beside him.
The red priestess shook her head slowly. "Since the red comet appeared, magic has been reawakening across the world. My power has grown, and I sense the Lord of Light's guidance more clearly. At the same time, the spells woven into the walls of Storm's End are becoming even stronger. It is more impregnable than ever."
Samwell sighed, resigned.
Melisandre's eyes gleamed as she looked at him. "But, if you wish it, I could help you take Storm's End."
Samwell said nothing, already aware of her suggestion.
In the original tale, Melisandre had helped Stannis take Storm's End by conjuring a shadow assassin. Now, she was offering him the same aid.
When he did not respond, Melisandre added, "Are you worried about Miss Margaery?"
Samwell shook his head. "No, that's not the issue. You mentioned before that it would require me to sacrifice part of my life force. Wouldn't that weaken me?"
"Yes, but it's not a permanent weakness," she replied. "The damage will be temporary, and it can be recovered."
Samwell considered. "How severe would this drain be? And how long would it take to fully recover?"
She pressed a hand to his chest, her warmth penetrating even through his armor. After a moment, she withdrew her hand and said, "Your life force is remarkably strong. You could endure two such rituals in close succession."
So each ritual would halve his power for a time, he concluded.
"How long to return to full strength?"
"About a year."
One ritual, and he'd be at half strength for a year. Samwell felt that the price was steep.
"Let's see if other options work first," he decided.
She nodded, saying nothing more.
After some idle conversation, Samwell made his way to the Buckler family's hall.
Upon entering, he found a tense crowd gathered in the dimly lit room.
"What's going on?" he asked, stepping forward.
The crowd parted, revealing a corpse lying on the floor, covered by a white sheet.
"Ser Omer Oakheart was killed in action," Randyll Tarly announced grimly.
Samwell was about to offer his condolences when he realized the full implications.
Lady Arwyn Oakheart had two sons: her second son, Arys, a knight of the Kingsguard, had been killed by Samwell in Skyreach. Now her firstborn, Ser Omer, was dead as well…
And he had died here, under Randyll Tarly's command, during the conquest of the Stormlands.
Though Samwell was sure his father would never intentionally sabotage the Oakhearts—perhaps by weakening their forces or minimizing their share of spoils, but never by killing their heir outright—Lady Arwyn might think otherwise.
The Oakhearts' primary line was now extinguished.
This feud had grown deep.
Samwell exchanged a cold glance with his father, and the two left the hall, meeting again in the corridor outside.
"The Oakhearts won't take this lying down," Samwell said bluntly. "I'm concerned they might turn to the Lannisters for revenge."
Randyll nodded. "Lady Arwyn is a formidable woman; it's very likely she would consider reaching out to Tywin Lannister. However, our focus should remain on the Stormlands for now. We'll leave the Oakhearts to the Tyrells. I'll write to Lady Olenna, urging her to keep a close eye on them."
"I'm worried Lady Olenna won't take strong action against the Stag Party," Samwell replied, rubbing his chin. "For the Tyrells, the Stag Party is their natural ally. She might try to maintain a balance and end up strengthening the Oakhearts' resolve instead."
"She'll protect them to a point, yes, but she won't let them jeopardize the Reach's ambitions here. We're too close to victory now for her to risk that."
"Very well," Samwell said with a shrug. "We'll leave it to Highgarden for now."
Just then, a messenger hurried into the hall.
"Lord Tarly, we intercepted Lord Ralph Buckler's party at the south gate."
"Have they refused to surrender?" Randyll asked.
"Lord Ralph has requested a meeting with you."
Randyll turned to his son. "You go meet with him, Samwell."
With a nod, Samwell mounted Cleopatra and flew south. In moments, he arrived at the gate, where he found a crowd of Reach soldiers surrounding a cluster of Buckler family members and their retainers.
As Samwell descended, gasps and murmurs spread through the crowd. Lord Ralph Buckler stepped forward, his face stern as he addressed Samwell.
"You must be Lord Samwell Caesar of Eagle's Point?"
"I am," Samwell replied as he dismounted. "Lord Buckler, are you prepared to surrender?"
"If I surrender," Ralph Buckler said slowly, "will House Buckler be allowed to keep Bronze Gate?"
"That depends," Samwell replied. "You'll need to agree to our terms."
"Do those terms include marrying my daughter to Ser Armand Peake?"
"That was the original offer." Samwell smiled slightly. "But given your resistance, the terms have changed."
"What more are you asking?"
"You must swear your loyalty to me, personally," Samwell stated.
Ralph scoffed. "You're only a lord of the Reach. What right do you have to demand my fealty?"
"What if I were to take Storm's End?"
Before Ralph could answer, a young knight standing beside him spoke up. "You think you can overthrow the Baratheons? You'll need King Stannis's approval for that."
"And you are…?" Samwell asked, noting the flaming heart sigil on the young man's chest.
"I am Ser Brus Buckler, of House Buckler," the knight replied, bowing slightly.
Samwell's gaze lingered on the sigil of R'hllor on Brus's armor. "You are a follower of the Lord of Light, yet you stand beside a false Azor Ahai."
Brus raised his eyebrows. "I hear you also claim to be the Lord of Light's chosen. Show me…"
"Then watch closely." Samwell drew the ancient sword Dawn from his back, and its milky-white blade ignited as it left its sheath, blazing with an intense light and emanating a heat so fierce that everyone nearby stepped back.
Brus stared in awe.
Samwell lifted the burning sword. "I hear Stannis carries a flaming sword he calls Lightbringer. Tell me, Ser Brus—does it look anything like this?"
Brus was silent, visibly shaken. Stannis's sword had glowed, but it emitted no heat, no aura of power like this weapon. In comparison, Stannis's sword had been a mere spark against the sun.
And then, there was the dragon.
He will wake dragons from stone, and wield a burning sword… The words of the prophecy echoed in Bruce's mind, and he felt a certainty settling within him.
At last, Brus stepped forward, kneeling on one knee.
"I, Ser Brus Buckler, pledge my loyalty to the prophesied prince, the champion of the Lord of Light, Azor Ahai reborn, Lord Samwell Caesar of Eagle's Nest. From this day forward, my sword is yours, to wield against the coming darkness."
Samwell placed Dawn on Brus's shoulder. "I accept your pledge."
He then turned to Ralph Buckler, who met his gaze with a defeated expression. The elder lord knew that refusing now would mean immediate death, and that his brother's family would rise in his place, fully supported by the Reach.
Sighing, Lord Ralph Buckler knelt. "I, Lord Ralph Buckler, swear my fealty to Lord Samwell Caesar."
Samwell smiled in satisfaction, placing Dawn on Ralph's shoulder as well.
"I accept your loyalty," he said.
(End of Chapter)