Game of Thrones: I am Dothraki, not a barbarian

Chapter 160 Attacking the Camp
The more people there are, the easier it is for enemy scouts to detect them. Therefore, a raid on a camp cannot involve too many people. So Renly left four thousand men in the main camp and split the other six thousand cavalry into two groups.

He led the first 3,000 men in a night raid on Lahaluo's camp.

The other group, led by Donald, was headed for Stonehelm.

As the pitch-black night enveloped the land and the sea breeze grew icy cold, Renly led his cavalry cautiously toward the Laharlo camp and lay in ambush at the edge of a dense forest.

"Remember!" Renly looked around and ordered in a low voice, "Leave no one alive. Except for Rahalo, who will be captured alive, exterminate all the other Dothraki!"

The knights gripped their sword hilts tightly, nodded in unison, and peered out from behind the trees, looking into the distance.

Strangely, this camp was much quieter than Bono's camp. There was no sound of drinking or fighting. The campfires outside the tents flickered and were almost imperceptible, with only a few scattered flames drifting in the wind.

“Something’s not right,” Lanley frowned and whispered to Brienne beside him, “Take a few men and go ahead to scout.”

Brienne drew her longsword, selected five elite knights, and stealthily made her way to the camp. Her tall figure quickly disappeared into the night.

Time ticked by, and Lan Li tapped his fingers incessantly on the hilt of his sword, his expression growing increasingly grim.

"Damn it, how long has she been gone?" he growled in a low voice. "Was she captured?"

“Your Majesty, only ten minutes have passed,” Green Guard Goode replied cautiously.

“A lot can happen in ten minutes!” Lanley gritted his teeth. “Wait five more minutes, and if Brienne isn’t back by then, we’ll retreat!”

Before she could finish speaking, a soft footstep came from the darkness, and Brienne appeared in sight with her knights, all of them looking puzzled.

“Your Majesty, there’s not a soul in the camp!” Brienne gasped. “All the tents are empty; the people have vanished!”

"What? Could there be a trap waiting for us?"

Renly also looked puzzled. His hatred for Rahalo gradually overcame his fear, and he prepared to lead three thousand soldiers to personally enter the camp to investigate.

At the forefront, scouts probed into the bushes with spears and used hunting dogs to sniff out possible ambushes.

The middle group held torches, and some knights threw copper stars into suspicious areas to listen for sounds and confirm that there were no traps or mechanisms.

Ultimately, when Renly reached the center of the camp, he still found no trace of any living person.

Several knights lifted the largest tent and saw that inside were simply cowhide sleeping bags and sheepskin blankets. On a low table was a half-empty bag of mare's milk wine, and a few pieces of dried meat were scattered around, emitting a strong, pungent smell.

Just then, a scout rode up in a panic, shouting, "Your Majesty! Lord Donald sent me with a message! Stonehelm is an empty city!"

A terrible thought flashed through Renly's mind, and he shouted, "Damn it! Back to camp right now!"

...

Meanwhile, dozens of miles away under the night sky, Rahalo led his Dothraki cavalry like ghosts through the Crimson Mountains.

Having learned of Renly's approaching army, Laharlo had already obtained intelligence about the enemy forces through his inside man, Roland.

They knew everything about the army, from its size and composition to its marching routes, and even the location of Renly's green silk tent.

He divided his army into four routes. One route, consisting of three thousand men led by Zheko and guided by Jiku, traveled day and night to ambush the enemy ten kilometers west of Shengxia Hall.

That was the only way to escape from the Summer Hall camp to the Baiyangtan main camp. The hills on both sides made it easy for cavalry to charge. Once you entered, it was like lambs to the slaughter.

The second force, led by Lahalo, dispatched two hundred scouts, each with two horses, lightly armed and scattered throughout the mountains and hills, to eliminate enemy scouts.

The third force of 300 cavalry, with the remaining warhorses and supplies, retreated ahead towards the Prince's Pass, establishing defensive positions and setting up ambushes to prepare an escape route for the main force.

According to the map provided by Roland, there was a mountain path leading to the enemy camp, and Lahallo personally led the remaining 1,500 elite troops to raid the camp.

They carried twigs in their mouths, their faces were painted, they wore wolf-skin armor, and their horses' hooves were wrapped in three layers of cowhide, making almost no sound when they stepped on the ground.

The moonlight was obscured by clouds, and the surroundings became pitch black. A clear bird song rang out, and the Dothraki stopped in unison, lit torches, and then quickly blew them out, leaving only a faint red glow hanging on the ground for the warriors behind to follow.

These torches had been soaked in tung oil for half a day, then the straw was pounded into fibers with stones, evenly wrapped around pine poles, and then tied with hemp rope. They were not only made from simple materials but also durable. When they were only a few hundred paces from the Lannister camp, another bird call rang out, and the procession stopped.

By this time, it was late at night, and most of the enemy troops were fast asleep, making it the perfect time to launch a surprise attack.

With another cry of an eagle, the crowd raised their torches and waved them vigorously. The torches, which had been half-lit, instantly turned into raging flames, illuminating the night sky and reflecting off the warriors' wolf-head hoods and faces painted with greasepaint, making them look like demons crawling out of hell, inspiring fear in all who beheld them.

More than 1,500 Slark cavalrymen simultaneously accelerated their charge, their hooves thundering as they swept toward Renly's camp!

"Ugh... Ahhh..."

Just as the lookout at the camp gate was about to sound the alarm, he was riddled with arrows and killed instantly.

At the forefront, ten warriors, each wielding a Molotov cocktail, smashed the wooden fences on either side of the gate. In an instant, raging flames shot into the sky, illuminating half the night.

"Avenge Lazar!" Rahalo raised his scimitar and charged into the enemy camp. Wherever his sword pointed, enemy heads fell to the ground!

"Avenge me!" someone shouted, followed by screams of agony.

"Kill!" At this moment, the warriors spat out the branches in their mouths and let out a loud battle roar that echoed through the sky!
The hastily erected camp gates were utterly vulnerable, and Rahalo led five hundred elite troops straight toward Renly's central army's green silk tent!
The Highgarden and Stormlands soldiers in the camp were either still asleep or had just been awakened. They were disheveled, without their weapons or armor. In the chaos, they couldn't even distinguish friend from foe. They were killed with a single blow as soon as they ran out of their tents.

The remaining thousand warriors were divided into one hundred ten-man squads, each led by a squad leader, and they went their separate ways to sweep across the enemy's four battalions.

They threw Molotov cocktails everywhere they went, and fought face-to-face!

Instantly, screams, hissing, and the clash of weapons mingled together, turning the entire camp into a living hell.

"kill!"

"The Seven Gods' Whip is coming! Run!"

"Help!"

The enemy soldiers rushed out of their tents, only to find that the surrounding area was engulfed in flames, their comrades' corpses and heads were scattered all over the ground, and blood flowed like a river!
Even more terrifying, from the firelight, monsters with wolf heads and ferocious faces suddenly sprang out, wielding gleaming curved blades, mercilessly reaping the heads of their companions.

A knight had just rushed out of the tent when his companion splattered blood all over his face. Upon closer inspection, he saw that half of his companion's head had been cut off, and the remaining eyeballs were staring intently at him, trembling as they reached out a hand for help.

He took a few steps back in terror, but tripped over the tent rope behind him. Before he could get up, three curved knives pierced his chest at the same time.

It was less of a battle and more of a massacre!

Fear and chaos spread like wildfire through the camp!
Lahalo's strategy played a crucial role: raiding enemy camps meant turning the battle into a chaotic mess, blending into the enemy ranks, fighting face-to-face, and drawing blood, instilling the deepest fear in the enemy!
Wolf pelts, firelight, and the stench of blood completely shattered the psychological defenses of the River Bend cavalry. Many were killed or burned without even being able to resist, while others turned on each other in panic, and the command system was completely paralyzed.

Finally, the camp was in chaos.

Rahalo weaved through the chaotic crowd and soon arrived at Renly's Green Silk Tent.

The curved sword parted the tent flap, revealing flickering candlelight inside that illuminated the extremely luxurious furnishings, but Renly was nowhere to be seen.

A simply dressed maid huddled in a corner, trembling with fear.

Seeing this, Rahalo strode forward, grabbed the maid by the collar, and lifted her up.

"Tell me, where is Renly?"

"Your Majesty, they've gone...to attack the Dothraki camp..." The maid's voice trembled as she lowered her head, unable to meet Rahalo's eyes.

Rahalo snorted and released his grip, causing the maid to collapse to the ground. He turned to leave, but just as he lifted the curtain, he suddenly stopped.

He slowly turned around, his gaze falling on the maid again. He walked back, lifted her hood, and her brown curly hair cascaded down like a waterfall.

Exquisite features, doe-like eyes.

Who else could it be but Margaery Tyrell?
(End of this chapter)