Gendry, riding a black Dornish steed, called upon Anguy, Jorah, Longspear, and others to gallop together outside Myr's East Gate. The land east of Myr was gentle and peaceful; these fertile lands could grow grain, gunpowder herb, and pears.
However, from a military perspective, the land east of Myr and the Disputed Lands were both flat and open, with few natural defenses.
It was precisely because the continent of Essos had more plains that this terrain was more suitable for the horse people's cavalry to roam freely.
The Free Folk working in the fields saw their group and bowed to them. Gendry, standing about six feet four inches tall, was already imposing in a crowd, and he would eventually grow even taller.
"the liberator!" "the liberator!" the Free Folk cheered, and Gendry waved back at them. Myr had a good natural environment and a pleasant climate at this latitude. The land's output was sufficient to feed the Free Folk, and if fully developed, it would unleash immense war potential.
"This is truly fertile land, but unfortunately, there are no passes to defend against enemies, and they've been scared witless by the Dothraki," Ser Jorah said with worry, looking towards the distant east where the horse people were brewing a storm.
The Free Cities' towns and castles were clearly less militarized than Westeros. Westeros's famous strongholds, such Casterly Rock and Storm's End, were impregnable fortresses, and there were also numerous smaller castles, with vassal Lords undertaking corresponding military obligations.
But in the Free Cities, like Pentos, apart from their own city defenses, the vast plains remained undeveloped due to fear of Dothraki retaliation. There were large orchards, farms, and mines on the plains, but because they were indefensible and out of fear of the Dothraki, there were no towns or castles. Myr was the same; apart from the city of Myr, there were no other large-scale military fortresses.
"Jorah, you know the Dothraki Screamers best. Tell me your thoughts," Gendry urged Ser Jorah to continue. "What's the difference between the Dothraki and traditional Knights?"
"When I was first exiled, I also saw the Dothraki as half-naked barbarians, as untamed as their warhorses. But now, I think the Dothraki also have their advantages," Ser Jorah said thoughtfully. "The Screaming Warriors' horsemanship surpasses that of any Knight, they fear nothing, and their arrows have a longer range than those of typical Knights. Most archers in the Seven Kingdoms fight on foot, hiding behind shield walls or sharpened fortifications. But the Screaming Warriors shoot arrows from horseback, moving freely in charge and retreat."
"Well said," Gendry responded. "The horse people's cavalry outnumbers other enemies, and the horse people are not afraid of death. But we also have our advantages: better armor and a geographical advantage."
"Your Highness is right, but if Khal Drogo mobilizes forty or fifty thousand Screaming Warriors, that would truly be a massive army," Ser Jorah said. "At the Trident River, Rhaegar only brought forty thousand men to battle. Less than a tenth of them were Knights; the rest were wandering riders, archers, and spearmen. When Rhaegar died, many threw down their weapons and fled the battlefield."
"But times have changed. Our standing army is also capable of fighting," Anguy said confidently. He didn't know much about that past war; he just felt that Ser Jorah was making the Dothraki sound too troublesome.
"While Drogo is fierce and skilled in battle, his mind may not be as sharp," Gendry said unhurriedly. "Horse warriors from the plains are not good at sieges and assaults; they only crave open battle."
"I bet Khal Drogo will come to Myr to fight me," Gendry stated with certainty. "Drogo considers himself the Khal of Khals, so he will not sit by and watch the Dothraki's prestige be diminished by me. Instead, he will come to Myr for a decisive battle. This is exactly what I want."
The art of war lies in momentum. Gendry wanted to create a favorable momentum for himself by all means, rather than falling into the Dothraki's trap like those foolish Ghiscari persons.
"You will win," Anguy said with great confidence.
"Yes, I must win. Only by defeating Drogo will I be the unique and true King."
Gendry envisioned a battlefield with a strong offensive position to first deplete the Dothraki's morale, whether it be Myr itself or defensive lines outside Myr. Only by first blunting the Dothraki's morale could he better execute a decapitation strike. Coincidentally, the Dothraki also favored decapitation strikes, so this would be a duel between two powers, two young Kings.
Gendry understood that winning was not the goal; resolving the enemy completely and at a low cost was Gendry's objective!
"Blunt their edge, avoid their spearhead, and then attack where they must defend. I will shatter the Dothraki myth in one battle." The scorched-earth tactic presented some difficulties, mainly because the Eastern Continent was indeed fertile.
East of Myr, a semicircular battlefield centered on Myr was being prepared. Trenches and earthworks were being built, but the sea was even more crucial. Myr was by the sea; it would be a pity not to rely on the water's advantage at this time.
First, rows of chevaux de frise were meticulously arranged; this was just a basic tactic. Then, two layers of trenches and two earthworks were constructed, creating a devastating elevated position.
Rolling oil, ballista, and catapults on the earthworks were lethal weapons against the Dothraki, not to mention the even more terrifying trebuchets.
Gendry had also prepared various armies for the Dothraki's arrival: the Myr fleet, heavy cavalry, light cavalry, infantry, longbowmen, Unsullied, the Norvos Holy Guard, and even gladiators who had escaped Meereen.
On both the eastern and western continents, clouds of war were gathering... In King's Landing, outside the city walls, by the riverbank, over a hundred tents had been set up, and hundreds of thousands of common folk came to watch.
The spectacle of the Tourney left Jon breathless: shining armor, tall warhorses draped in gold and silver, the loud cheers of the crowd, and vibrant banners fluttering in the wind.
Jon squeezed among the common people, and few noticed this simply dressed young man with a scarred face. Mikke stood with Jon, also very excited.
But Jon wasn't there just to watch; he wanted to observe the Knights from different regions, to see if he could gather any information he needed. Jon finally understood why the common people also loved the Tourney: it wasn't just a grand entertainment event, but many people could also earn money. Make the people happy, make the people earn money.
In the crowd, Jon saw a familiar figure: his sister Sansa descending from a sedan chair with a septa and her companion, Jeyne. The sedan chair's curtains were made of yellow silk, exquisitely crafted.
"This is truly beautiful," Sansa said with joy. Sansa wore a green gown that complemented her auburn hair, making her look beautiful. In the crowd, Sansa saw a familiar gaze; she saw Jon, but Sansa pretended not to notice and continued with her companions to the seats reserved for the upper class, for noble Lords and Ladies.
"That girl," Jon shook his head inwardly. It was normal for Sansa to have many romantic fantasies; that's how normal girls were, and Lady Catelyn had also instilled in her the dream of becoming a Lady. But this was not the right time; King's Landing was full of dangers now, so how could it be a time for enjoyment?
The White Knights were the most popular Knights, and although their reputation had been tarnished by the Kingslayer, they were still considered the most outstanding Knights. The Kingsguard wore milk-colored scale armor, with snow-white cloaks like fresh snow. The most prominent, of course, was the Lannister Kingslayer, Ser Jaime, who was dazzling in gold from head to toe, wearing a lion helmet and carrying a golden sword.
Jon's primary focus was on the Lannisters; he had to be wary and observe them. Jon clearly felt the Lannisters' malice.
"The Mountain," Jon felt his heart quicken when he saw the Mountain appear.
The Mountain's bloody legends were as famous as his massive physique. Ser Gregor, eight feet tall, rumbled past like a small hill. The Mountain was the tallest and most robust person Jon had ever seen. King Robert and his two brothers were large, and The Hound was also a big man. But the Mountain towered above everyone, eight feet tall, with broad shoulders and arms as thick as small tree trunks.
"Damn it," Jon cursed under his breath. The Kingslayer and The Hound were already difficult to deal with; this Mountain was even more formidable.
By his sheer size, the Mountain was already terrifying, and his speed was not slow either. Such a person was a terrifying presence in war.
"I can only proceed slowly," Jon couldn't help but compare the strength of the Northern guardsmen and the Mountain in his mind. There was a very disheartening truth: there was no warrior among the Northern guards who could rival the Mountain. Jon quickly arrived at this conclusion.
Although Jon gave Northerners many 'brave warrior' filters, and he knew every one of his father Eddard's guards, Jon understood the difference was immense. Jory probably wasn't even a match for the Kingslayer, let alone the Mountain.
Jon watched the Mountain walk away and began to pay attention to other Knights who appeared. Jon saw Count Jason, wearing a hawk-winged helmet. The old Count was still formidable in his old age; he had once killed three of Rhaegar's guards single-handedly at the Trident River and had also killed the arrogant Theon's brother during the Greyjoy Rebellion.
Although Jon didn't recognize some of the Knights, their badges and banners, and even their distinctive appearances, revealed their identities. Jon saw the twin brothers of House Redwyne, with a blue background and burgundy grape cluster emblem carved on their shields. Jon also saw a man with a black face, an exiled prince from the Summer Isles, wearing a cloak woven with red and green feathers.
"People of the Vale," the people Jon wanted to see appeared: Knights of the Vale, Ser Ando, the heir of Bronze Yohn, and Ser Robar. These men's armor was silver-plated and engraved with the same bronze protective runes as their fathers. Yohn also had a younger son, whom Jon knew had joined the Night's Watch.
"If they were from House Royce, that would be even better. Lord Eddard should meet them and gather information from them," Jon thought. House Royce had great influence in the Vale, considered the second-ranked Lords of the Vale, and Bronze Yohn was also rumored to be famously upright. House Royce also had marital ties with House Stark.
Handsome Knights appeared one after another. Jon saw Count Beric, whose black shield bore a lightning bolt, and who had beautiful red-gold hair. The King's brother was even more handsome and popular, with the common people cheering him louder; the King's younger brother was deeply loved for his grace and charm.
"Our people are here," Jon saw the representatives from the North and Winterfell. They also wanted to join the fun. Jory, Elin, and Halwin had called for Jon to come earlier, but Jon didn't like such occasions and had more important matters to attend to.
"Compared to others, Jory looks like a beggar." When Jory appeared, Septa Mordane scoffed, and Sansa couldn't help but agree with the assessment. Jory wore gray-blue armor, without any crest or ornamentation, and his thin gray cloak looked like a dirty rag.
Despite this, Jory still performed well. In his first bout, he unhorsed Horas Redwyne, and in the second, he knocked down a Frey Family Knight. In his third encounter, he jousted three times with a wandering warrior named Rosso Brenn, whose armor was as plain as his own. Neither managed to unhorse the other. Rosso was hired by Littlefinger, but Brenn held his lance more steadily and struck more accurately, so the King declared him the victor. Elin and Halwin were not as striking; Halwin was unhorsed in his first bout by Ser Meryn of the Kingsguard, and Elin was defeated by Ser Balon Swann.
The jousting lasted all day, until dusk, the thunder of warhorses' hooves trampling the Tourney grounds into a desolate, broken wasteland. Knights crashed into each other, lances splintered and shattered, and the hearts of the crowd cheered loudly as the competition progressed. But all in all, it was an exciting and dangerous competition.
"Things don't look good," Jon mused. The Lannisters were not to be underestimated. To defeat an opponent, one must first understand them.
Jon found that several of the Lannisters' top commanders were ruthless individuals. The Kingslayer had an excellent record, and The Hound and his brother were equally unstoppable.
Looking at the North, things were somewhat dismal. Although jousting couldn't tell the whole story, it at least showed that the Knights' horsemanship and balance were good.
Jon watched the competition intently. There was one more person he was particularly concerned about: Ser Hugh, the Knight of the Vale who had rejected him, Lord Arryn's former Attendant. When Ser Hugh entered the lists, Jon witnessed a tragedy unfold before his eyes.
"Damn it, no!" When Jon saw the Knight of the Vale and the Mountain lined up together, he immediately felt a sense of dread, and Jon's face turned pale. The two men's strengths were too far apart; the Knight of the Vale was just a young Child eager for fame and could not possibly be the Mountain's opponent.
The situation unfolded exactly as Jon had thought. The Mountain's lance, tilted upwards, struck directly beneath the Knight of the Vale's gorget. Due to the excessive force, the lance pierced straight through his throat, and the Knight of the Vale died instantly.
The Mountain didn't even bother to express an apology, merely watching the outcome of the match coldly. He was a cruel man.
The Knight of the Vale fell less than ten feet from Sansa's seat, the tip of the lance piercing his neck, and blood slowly began to flow out. It was such fiery red blood, accompanying the complete dissipation of the Knight of the Vale's life force. His cloak, originally sky blue like a summer day, was embroidered with crescent moons. Now, as the blood flowed out, the cloak began to darken, and the moons turned blood-red.
"Was it intentional, or an accident? Damn it, that bastard Mountain definitely did it on purpose!" Jon stood rooted to the spot, stunned. The crowd also expressed their grief, a hubbub of noise.
Jon had not obtained any information from Hugh, and Lord Eddard was preparing to meet this young man. Someone had harmed him because Arryn's Attendant held some secrets, Jon instinctively thought. This poor Child died from his own arrogance and greed.
Jon heard a girl's wailing. The poor Knight of the Vale hadn't cried at all. Jeyne started crying. Sansa, however, shed no tears. Jon felt a chilling cold, as if an Other had touched his spine. Is this power? Everyone bleeds for it.
Jon had no mood to watch the rest of the competition. The death made him feel terrible, especially the loss of a crucial clue. Jon only witnessed the results of the competition.
Among the final four, besides the Knight of Flowers, the young Loras, the other three were all Lannister Knights: the Kingslayer, the Mountain, and The Hound.
The Knight of Flowers was also the most popular because he was indeed too handsome. This boy seemed to be one with his horse, having defeated three Kingsguard members that morning. His armor was also exquisitely carved, with enamel depicting a thousand different flowers, and his snow-white steed was covered with a red blanket and white Roses.
Such beauty and luxury could only be afforded by the wealthy House Tyrell's youngest son.
After the Tourney, Jon was now worried about Eddard's situation. The Lannisters' presence in the Tourney, like their influence in King's Landing, was quite alarming. Moreover, as Jon surmised, among the White Knights, there should also be a few who were staunch Lannister loyalists.
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