Ice and Fire: Reign of the Dragon.

Chapter 378: War
When the first wisp of black smoke rose from the fire mill, the Brackens' sentinels realized that this was no ordinary fire. Lord Quentyn Blackwood's seven hundred cavalrymen flew across the border like a flock of silent crows, their mail armor covered with dark green cloaks, and tar-soaked arrows hung beside the saddle of each horse.

"For Raventree!" Oswell Blackwood, the old knight of the Blackwood family, shouted and split the wooden door of the mill with a sword. Before the workers inside could grab the shovel, they were nailed to the flour bags by arrows shot from the fish beam wood longbow. Thick smoke and dust exploded, igniting the huge mill that the two families had fought for a thousand years. The fire in the mill quickly spread to the neighboring wheat fields, and the newly grown winter wheat turned into a rolling sea of ​​fire in an instant.

When the Brackens' patrol arrived, they saw only a flag planted on the scorched earth - a bloody weirwood on a black background, with ravens flying among the branches. Twelve heads were neatly stacked under the flagpole, and each face was carved with a bloody scar from forehead to chin. Their bodies had their ribs torn apart and the blood had long since flowed away.

The village church was razed to the ground, and the monk of the Bracken family was hanged on the statue of the Seven Gods that was chopped into firewood and burned to charcoal. The soldiers of Blackwood cut off his vitals and stuffed them into the mouth of the middle-aged monk.

There were corpses scattered everywhere.

"Seven Hells" was the last murmur of the Bracken soldiers.

When Lord Harford Frey received the news from Riverrun, he was polishing his son Merry's favorite knight chess in the hall of the Twins. When the messenger trembled and said, "The bastard of the mediocre king killed Master Merry, who was as brave as Lord Forrester," the old earl's finger was cut by the knight's sword and bled.

"Call the soldiers." His voice froze the hall. "All of them."

Two thousand Frey soldiers joined the Blackwood army a few hours later. These warriors from both sides of the Green Fork held the blue-gray double-towered flag, and their mail armor was still damp with the cold of late winter. Many of them did not even have time to put on their armor - Lord Harvard was too anxious to summon them, and many of them followed after seeing the Lord's soldiers leave the castle.

The news also reached Stonehedge City. Before young Bracken had time to be shocked by the absurd decision of his father and uncle, he was forced to put on armor and mount his horse to resist the wrath of his feud.

Fifteen hundred Bracken militiamen and the knights who stayed in the castle formed a battle formation in the clover field outside the dairy village. When the midday sun rose to its highest point, young Bracken saw a scene that made his blood curdle - each of the Freys' vanguard cavalry held a spear with the head of a Bracken scout poking out on the tip of the spear.

The battle lasted less than two hours. The Frey heavy cavalry smashed through the enemy lines like hammers, while the Blackwood archers bit from the flanks like venomous snakes. When the banner of the Brackens fell, Lord Harford cut off the head of the young Brackens himself - the young man was still calling for his mother's name before he died.

His brother's body lay staring blankly at the sun in the muddy clover field, with the black arrow of House Blackwood stuck in his eye socket. Alas, he would never see the halls of Stonehedge again.

On the battlements of Stonehedge, Lord Bracken's uncle, Sir Alton Bracken, looked at the tents outside the city with some despair, his sword pressed firmly against the battlements. The heads of the Earl's two sons were stuck on the ends of the spears, and his grandson was groaning in the iron cage outside the city gate - the young Bracken was stripped of his armor, and his body was covered with bloodstains. The captured knights were pushed one by one onto the newly erected gallows - the two furious families did not accept prisoners or ransoms, they chose the most ancient bloody revenge of the ancestors.

Down below the city, Quentyn Blackwood was using his dagger to carve the nineteenth scar on the body of Alton Bracken's grandson - each scar represented a hanged Bracken knight. Standing beside him, Harford Frey whispered, "Lord Tully's army will arrive by evening. Our scouts have not found any dragons."

"Why so fast?" Quentin Blackwood was a little confused. He knew how many troops Duke Tully had prepared - five thousand people, which was not a large number in these years, but it was not easy to gather so many people so quickly.

"There are 700 standing troops in Riverrun, and thousands of people have been assembled in the villages outside Riverrun. And just like you and me, we are recruiting soldiers as we move forward. If time were not tight, Duke Tully could have gathered 7,000 to 8,000 people - thanks to the late king - except for King Yong. The summer they brought us gives us enough manpower." Marquis Frey sighed.

“Wait until Lord Tully arrives and attack the city at dawn,” Lord Blackwood said to the herald. “Tell the archers that I want the granaries at Stonehedge burned first.”

When the Trout Banner of House Tully appeared over the fields outside Stonehedge as the sun set, even the sky turned blood red.

Duke Tully rode on his warhorse, his dark blue cloak billowing in the wind like the raging waves of the Blue Fork River. There was no joy of victory in his eyes, only cold murderous intent - Merry of the Frey family, Waymond of the Tully family, their bodies had not yet been sent back to their respective families - all of this stemmed from a sinful betrayal.
"Attack the city." He only said two words.

The walls of Stonehedge trembled at dawn. Blackwood's archers unleashed the first hail of arrows, their arrows tied with oiled linen, setting the wooden fortifications ablaze. Frey's infantrymen pushed their battering rams toward the gates.

Ser Oswell Blackwood stood in front of the battlement, his long bow drawn, and shot an arrow through the throat of the Knight of House Bracken on the battlement. "For Weymond!" The old knight's voice was sharper than the bowstring.

Stonehedge Castle is old but not strong. In history, the castle has been breached many times, which has made this scarred castle unable to bear the weight.

The south gate of Shili City collapsed at noon.

Ser Alton Bracken and his last retainer knights held the inner castle, his battle axe was bent and his mail was soaked with blood and turned black and red.

"Surrender," Ser Oswell shouted from the pile of corpses, "and I will spare your life." His first arrow hit the acting lord's shoulder armor.

Old Bracken's answer was a mouthful of bloody spit.

The old knight's second arrow pierced his knee, and the third arrow pierced his right eye. When the acting lord of the Bracken family knelt on the ground, the soldiers of the Frey family rushed forward and cut him into pieces with their swords.

By dusk the great hall of Stonehedge was filled with the heads of the Brackens.

The Blackwoods slaughtered their old enemies - under the banner of the Red and Silver Dragons
The Earl of Bracken's wife was hanged from the beams of her own hall, and the turbid blood flowing from her body stained the tapestry embroidered with the Bracken family crest.

"Leave one alive," Lord Tully said to the bloodstained soldiers, "Let the Brackens know the consequences of betrayal."

They chose the eight-year-old Leon, the youngest son of the Brackens. The boy's right hand was cut off and placed in a jeweled box, which was then sent to Harrenhal by a knight of the Tully family.

I hope the red dragon and the silver dragon won't die so soon, otherwise it would be too boring. At this time, a messenger brought news that made everyone's face change drastically.

Before the dragons of King's Landing took flight, it wasn't just the Riverlands that were in turmoil.

西境
Under the golden lion banner of Casterly Rock, Lord Damon Lannister, the "Grey Lion", smashed his fist on the map in the council hall, knocking over several wine glasses.

"Reyes and Tarbek?" Gray Lion's voice was as low as the echo of an underground mine. "Who gave them the courage to be traitors?"

He glanced at the westerly nobles present. The bandages of Earl Westerling were still oozing blood - his two thousand troops were ambushed at Gallows Hill, and less than three hundred returned alive.

"Plumm is dead," said Lord Crakehall grimly, his fingers rubbing the silver boar on the hilt. "They hung him on the gate of his own castle, with the red lion of the Reyes nailed to his chest. Duke, the dragon riders from King's Landing have not arrived yet, and we..."

Damon suddenly smiled, revealing his white teeth. "Very good." He stood up, and a shadow covered the entire map. "I'm afraid they have forgotten the Lannister language."

Outside the window, the sound of the sea tide under Casterly Rock suddenly became violent, as if it had a premonition of blood coming.

"Hear me roar."

River Bend.

Atop the white tower of Highgarden, Lord Leo Tyrell the Thorn was pruning roses with a gilded dagger.

His movements were graceful and precise, and every time the knife flashed, a golden rose fell into the copper basin held by the servant. The transparent ice in the basin reflected his face - the face that had attracted countless noble ladies was now as cold as a stone sculpture.

“Seventeen villages.” The butler’s voice was trembling. “All the harvest granaries north of Brightwater City were destroyed.”

Leo's dagger stopped in mid-air. "Those guys finally couldn't help it."

"Yes," the butler said. "The rebels shouted 'Long live Daemon' and 'Long live the Rightful King' as they set the barn ablaze with rockets."

The Duke of Rose suddenly threw a bunch of roses into the ice basin. He turned to his attendant and said, "Send a letter to Redwyne. I want the Qingting Island fleet to go north along the river." A cold light flashed in his eyes. "When will the army of Earl Alan Jieyan arrive? Which dragon knight will protect our army? Go and ask clearly."

"Yes."

Outside the window, the farmers on the Rose Avenue saw with horror that at the top of the tallest white tower in Highgarden, the golden rose flag was lowered and replaced with a blood-red rose battle flag embroidered with bleeding thorns.

valley.

At the Silver Coin Wharf in Seagull Town, twenty merchant ships loaded with valley wheat were on fire.

"This is a tax for King's Landing!" The treasurer of the Eyrie was pressed on a tar barrel and screamed, "You are rebelling!"

"No." Harbor Lord Petyr Arryn, the young man who always loved to sing knightly poems, raised his jeweled dagger to lift the treasurer's chin. "It's called free trade. Yes, it's free trade with the rightful king." He pointed to the burning ships. The Arryn family of Seagulltown had been silent for decades because they stood on the wrong side.

Now, wealthy businessman Ailin is preparing to take back his wealth and power.

That night, the brothels in Seagull Town were opened for free, Earl Graveson's head was hung at the city gate, and his heirs took out the gold coins from the treasury that should have been handed over to Eyrie and King's Landing, and scattered them to every mercenary in the city and every warship hiding a pirate flag.

Iron Islands.

The Seastone Place in Pike City is empty.

Torwyn Greyjoy stood at the edge of the salt cliffs, tapping the kraken staff against the rocks. His eldest son was carving a model of a longship out of driftwood, while his second son was not far away, stabbing a stranded jellyfish with his dagger.

"Father, are we going to join the war?" the eldest son suddenly asked.

Torwayn looked to the south, where lightning and thunder were roaring. "That's the war of the real dragons." He crushed a crab that climbed up the rock wall and said tiredly, "If the sea monster gets close, it will be bitten to death."

(End of this chapter)