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That night, the battle raged on, with enemies coming in relentless waves.
A soldier lifted a stone and hurled it against the wall. Just as he raised his head, the sharp whistle of an arrow cut through the air. He barely had time to register the sound before everything went dark.
Below the city walls, soldiers gathered with shields raised, slowly positioning a long ladder against the stone fortifications. But those defending the walls would not let them succeed so easily. The moment the ladder's head appeared, they pushed it back with their hands and struck it with weapons.
The ladder's top was reinforced with heavy iron hooks, sharp as a tiger's fangs. Once it latched onto the stone, it would grip tightly, making it nearly impossible to dislodge.
The defenders had no choice but to step back as the ladder struck the wall.
When it finally held firm, they tried to push it away again, but it had already dug deep into the masonry. Below, soldiers shielded themselves and began climbing one after another.
But as they neared the top, a wall of blades and spears awaited them.
Even with their shields raised, they could not withstand the relentless assault. Spears and swords struck at exposed wrists, waists, and legs. Some were pierced clean through, others lost their footing and plummeted from the ladder, their screams vanishing into the chaos below.
With a deafening crash, stones rained down inside the castle.
The defenders were not defenseless, either. A great crossbow released with a resounding whoosh, sending an enormous bolt—thick as a man's arm—hurtling into the dense ranks below. A chorus of anguished cries followed as men were impaled where they stood.
A sudden roar echoed from the walls. The enemy had breached the defenses, and more were climbing up behind them.
At the same time, soldiers from below had forced their way inside, pouring through the gates in a flood. The climbers' initial foothold was quickly overwhelmed by the sheer number of attackers.
Cole stood atop the towering walls of Storm's End, watching the brutal struggle unfold beneath him. He had not expected Renly to launch such a ferocious assault.
A siege of this scale placed enormous pressure on both the attackers and the defenders.
The moment Cole returned to Storm's End, Stannis had called a war council. Every knight and noble in the castle had attended. Naturally, Cole had followed, though he wasn't entirely sure why.
He had returned alongside the Onion Knight—though, in truth, it was Davos who had come by boat to retrieve him.
The two had rowed across Shipbreaker Bay, making their way to the rocky shores beneath Storm's End. From there, they had been hoisted up into the castle in a hanging basket.
Cole still remembered the surprise in Melisandre's eyes when she saw him. The same shock was mirrored on the faces of the knights and nobles gathered in the hall.
And it had all begun with a single bird.
That day, a great raven had taken flight from Storm's End. But before it had traveled far, a white shadow had streaked across the sky and struck. The mere presence of the creature had been enough to render the raven powerless.
Davos had retrieved the bird and handed it to Maester Pylos, who had quickly unsealed the letter it carried. After reading it, the maester had sent for Davos at once.
For days, Pylos had been trying to deliver the letter to the king, but the chance had never come.
Since the white dragon had failed to locate the cavalry, Cole had been forced to return to Storm's End first. There, he had relayed critical information to Stannis—Renly was planning to transport supplies by sea.
Renly's army had been besieging Storm's End for four days now. Yet, despite their numbers, they had made no real progress.
His forty thousand men could do little more than glare at the towering walls. The castle's defenses were formidable—high and thick walls, a deep moat guarding the gates, and sheer cliffs limiting access to the base. The few places where they could reach the foot of the city were still too well-fortified for a direct assault.
Inside the castle, only four thousand men stood in defense—just a tenth of Renly's forces. But the walls of Storm's End were worth a thousand swords.
Moreover, Storm's End could continue receiving supplies by sea. Renly had already sent envoys to the Arbor, but House Redwyne had not answered his call to arms.
Highgarden lay inland, and within the Tyrells' sphere of influence, only House Redwyne of the Arbor possessed a fleet capable of supporting a naval campaign.
For generations, the Redwyne's had served as the maritime strength of the Reach. Their fleet was as renowned in Westeros as the Royal Fleet and the Iron Fleet.
Additionally, the Arbor was famed for producing the finest wine in Westeros, a legacy reflected in the Redwyne sigil—a banner bearing a cluster of blue grapes. Wealthy and powerful, the family was a formidable force at sea.
However, Renly's war was aimed at seizing King's Landing, and the Redwyne's had refrained from joining him. Most believed their hesitation stemmed from the fact that Lord Paxter Redwyne's sons were in King's Landing, effectively held hostage by Cersei and Joffrey.
Without the Arbor fleet, Renly could not challenge Stannis at sea. His supply ships were nothing more than commandeered fishing vessels.
The Small Council
After another day of siege, Stannis convened a small council.
Cole and Davos arrived together, meeting Maester Pylos at the chamber doors.
Though Davos had handed the captured raven to Pylos immediately upon retrieving it, he held no fondness for the maester.
Inside, before the king's arrival, the gathered lords and knights exchanged pleasantries. The mood was surprisingly amicable, despite the ongoing war.
Then Stannis entered, flanked by Melisandre.
The reason for the council was the intelligence Cole had brought.
Unrolling the map he carried, Cole spoke. "This is the map I sketched while leading the cavalry."
He pointed to the Dornish Marches. "I encountered enemy cavalry here and was separated from my men. But I also learned something important."
His finger moved to Highgarden. "After his grain stores were burned, Renly gathered more supplies. This time, he doesn't seem to be transporting it via the Rose Road. He's using the rivers instead."
The waterways provided a direct route, leading toward the Kingswood, not far from Bronzegate.
"But," Cole continued, "I scouted the Kingswood and found that the Wende River is running low. Several stretches are too shallow for proper navigation. My guess is that they'll sail as far upstream as they can, then transfer the grain to wagons for the final stretch."
He looked directly at Stannis. "If they're resorting to river transport, that means their supplies are dwindling. If we can cut off this shipment, the army besieging us will collapse without us needing to strike a single blow."
Stannis studied the map. His fleet was stationed outside Shipbreaker Bay, watching for any movement from the Arbor fleet. It was also his last line of retreat—if Storm's End fell, they would have no choice but to escape by sea.
Sending the fleet away to intercept Renly's supplies would mean abandoning that escape route. If the gamble failed, there would be no retreat—only the walls of Storm's End to stand behind.
"But isn't it too far for the fleet to circle Dorne and reach the Mander?" asked Ser Axell Florent. In his view, the only way to intercept the shipment was to sail all the way up the river to Highgarden itself.
Cole said nothing. He had given his report. The decision now lay with Stannis.
This was a gamble. Renly would invest heavily in protecting his supply lines. There was also the possibility that the entire plan was a ruse.
Cole's gaze shifted to Melisandre.
Her belly had begun to swell.