A stroke of luck amid misfortune.
Fortunately, the dragons did not fly west, and Aegor's pursuing troops seemed to be held back by the Golden Company cavalry covering the rear. After two or three hours of chaotic retreat, Jon Connington, escorting Aegon, withdrew in haste but relative safety to the camp capable of accommodating a hundred thousand troops.
The camp was empty inside and out, with few people visible. Only a few banners still fluttered on the wooden gates and walls. Because they had gone out with the determination to win, the Reachmen Allied Army had only left a few hundred soldiers to guard the main camp. A sudden, chilling thought flashed through Connington's mind like lightning. Fortunately, the scouts' report quickly confirmed that his worries were unfounded: the guards at the gate were still Reach Army soldiers, their attire and expressions completely normal. They had not seen a single enemy soldier and were extremely surprised by the defeat of the main force.
The camp gates creaked open, and the defeated Reachmen soldiers, led by the Golden Company and Highgarden troops, trickled in through the gates. After settling the guard and defense work, Jon Connington immediately reconvened the generals in the name of the Hand of the Queen.
"In war, victory and defeat are common. Aegor is indeed a formidable opponent, but he ultimately failed to achieve complete success in one go. Imagine, if during the half-day-long battle, a surprise force of two or three thousand had outflanked and raided our main camp, then today we would truly have had nowhere to escape!" Looking at the dejected nobles, and even the king, Connington loudly encouraged them. "But now, relying on this huge camp, we still have the strength to resist!"
"Strength to resist? Bullshit!" With the loss of the battle, respect for superiors also vanished. A Golden Company officer from the Summer Isles, whose skin was as black as coal, spat on the ground, ignoring his lord's expression. "Are you too short, or do you have poor eyesight? Did you not see Daenerys's two dragons turn the fleet into a sea of fire? The enemy now has not only cannons but also dragons. Never mind the cannons, I will just ask, how many scorpions do we have left? When the dragons swoop toward the main camp, are we going to throw spears at them?"
The army had taken almost all the scorpions when they left the camp for the battlefield in the morning, leaving only three behind to prevent the granaries from being burned down by an air raid. As for the scorpions taken to the battlefield... at Harry Strickland's suggestion, they were all deployed on the front line. It was hard to say whether this decision was right or wrong now. Daenerys's two dragons did not dive and attack them after arriving on the battlefield, so even if all the scorpions had been kept in the rear and prepared, it would not have mattered. Firing from behind protective walls, they inflicted hundreds of casualties on Daenerys's infantry, briefly tilting the battle in favor of the Reachmen. However, the reacting Western Expeditionary Army artillery quickly retaliated and destroyed half of them, and the rest, being deployed too far forward, were almost immediately captured by the enemy in Daenerys's army's final counter-charge.
Not a single one was salvaged.
"Besides the three left to guard the main camp's granaries, we brought back two," the commander of the anti-air unit reported in a weak voice. "These two malfunctioned before the battle due to transportation issues, so they were not deployed to the front line for combat and remained on the carts. Just now, during the retreat, I directed soldiers to bring them back. After some quick repairs, they should be usable."
Even after quick repairs, there would only be five. How could that protect a camp of a hundred thousand?
The open-air "meeting" fell silent. Randyll Tarly, after a moment of cold observation, added in a chilling tone, "I hope everyone does not overlook one fact. To the northwest and south of the Reach, the other two armies of the Westerlands and the North, and Dorne, totaling about thirty to forty thousand men, are still pressing forward. We gave up dealing with these two forces and concentrated our strength to face the enemy in the center. The plan was to defeat the main force led by Aegor and then, with the momentum of a great victory, negotiate peace with the Westerlands, the North, and Dorne! But now, we clenched our fist and still could not defeat just one of the three enemy forces. Is there any need to keep fighting this war? Jon Connington, no disrespect intended, but the lives of the Reachmen are also valuable. If you still want to incite us to continue fighting today, please save your breath!"
The war could no longer be fought. Connington knew this well. If he forced the Golden Company and the Reachmen to clash head-on with Aegor again, they would likely cut off their own heads and defect to the enemy.
"Lord Tarly, I certainly dare not ignore Daenerys's forces to the north and south, and I realize that our army has no morale left to fight, but please listen to me quietly." He lowered his head slightly, hiding his nervously bobbing Adam's apple. "Why are the enemy not hot on our heels right now? It is certainly not out of mercy, but because they also won a narrow victory and are unable to pursue! Optimistically, we should be able to gather twenty thousand men before dark today. This number is more than the enemy's remaining usable soldiers. Even if we cannot fight in the field, defending from the main camp is enough to give the enemy a headache. Turning defeat into victory is a fairy tale now, but at least we still have the qualification to negotiate!"
"Qualification to negotiate?" Randyll Tarly's lips moved coldly. The usually stern man was now only hoping in his heart that his son was safe and calculating how to preserve the Tarly family's castle and lands at Horn Hill. He was past even feeling angry. "A few months ago outside King's Landing, we truly had the qualification to negotiate. A few hours ago on the battlefield where the two armies faced off, we might still have been able to negotiate a decent price. Now? What do we have to negotiate with?"
"A military camp, several large warehouses of grain, and if that is not enough, the people of the entire Reach." Connington's expression gradually relaxed. Having made up his mind, he calmed down. "Our scorpions are few, and morale can hardly support another major battle, but the enemy does not know that. Although Aegor achieved a great victory today, his grain crisis persists and can only be resolved by obtaining our military supplies. Furthermore, Daenerys now has victory in hand, and the Reachmen will be her subjects in the future. Lord Tyrell has been mentioning that delaying the spring planting will starve hundreds of thousands, and as the future ruler of the Seven Kingdoms, should she not also be concerned about this problem?"
"So, Hand of the King, what do you plan to do?" Harry Strickland asked, feigning calmness, but his heart was as anxious as an ant on a hot pan. He and all the soldiers and officers of the Golden Company had staked everything on Aegon. Seeing that the king they supported had no hope of victory, how could he possibly remain calm?
"Call me Jon. I can no longer stand by the Iron Throne and assist the future ruler of the Seven Kingdoms." Before he finished speaking, Connington suddenly remembered that the Iron Throne had been completely melted down and sighed helplessly. "Our army can no longer fight, but I must implore everyone, for the last time, for me, for the king, and for yourselves, to muster the courage to show the attitude of fighting to the death. Only then can I have leverage to negotiate with Daenerys. As for the terms, I have already thought them through."
Starting to consider how to surrender right after a defeat was truly pathetic and incompetent.
But the reality was that the enemy was close at hand. If they did not discuss it quickly, they would not even have a chance to surrender.
"Daenerys is the ultimate winner, so Prince Aegon's claim to the throne is rebellion, and someone must bear this responsibility. Looking around, that person can only be me. Please ensure everyone's story is consistent. Whether it was Prince Aegon's claim to the throne, or the Golden Company and the Reach forming an allied army to resist the Western Expedition, everything, from beginning to end, was initiated and orchestrated by me, driven by ambition, forcing and deceiving the prince and all of you to participate." Connington paused slightly, giving his listeners enough time to absorb the information, then revealed the answer. "To atone for this crime, I am willing to take the black, or end my own life!"
"Impossible!" Aegon was furious and shot to his feet. "I will not be like a coward, hiding behind my Hand, whimpering and begging my Daenerys for forgiveness!"
These words were forceful, but unfortunately, they caused not a ripple.
"Prince, everything in the world operates according to its own rules. We have lost now, so we must accept defeat and bear the consequences. Those unwilling to accept reality often die a terrible death." Connington took the lead in changing how he addressed Aegon, only hoping this move could save Rhaegar's son's life. "The second leverage is, if the negotiation goes smoothly, our army will offer our grain and supplies. Otherwise, we will burn it all down, making him rack his brain and search everywhere to gather more!"
"Barely a threat," Randyll Tarly nodded. The always practical man immediately turned his head and suggested to the distraught Lord Mace Tyrell, "Lord Tyrell, please send three squads of soldiers to collect lamp oil and flints, and prepare to set fire to all three granaries within the main camp. If the negotiation does not go well or the enemy attacks the main camp, set them alight immediately."
Connington secretly approved of this action in his heart but was not interrupted by this small interlude. "The third leverage is, if Daenerys is willing to allow our side a dignified surrender, then the entire Reach can lay down their arms and change banners in an instant, and various productions, especially spring planting, can begin immediately. Otherwise, if the last chance for spring planting is missed, when the lean season arrives, how to feed the millions of starving Reach people will become her biggest trouble. She probably cannot afford the tragedy of mass starvation occurring in the first year of her restoration!"
"These are our leverage points. None of them are really strong, but they are better than nothing." This was a relatively polite way of putting it. There was nothing to be done. In war, only victory was the greatest bargaining chip. Randyll turned his face. "What terms do we want in return?"
"First, pardon the Golden Company and provide settlement or a way out." This was not the most crucial point, but appeasing the mercenaries was the top priority right now. Cornered mad dogs were a big threat. "Second, Prince Aegon giving up his royal title must earn Daenerys's forgiveness and acceptance. Whether it is going to Dragonstone for house arrest, being exiled again across the Narrow Sea, or taking the black, there is hope as long as he is alive. Aegon is her last living blood relative. I believe Daenerys will not rashly order his death."
A voice in his mind told Connington that if they had submitted to Daenerys during the negotiation at the Blackwater Rush, Aegon could undoubtedly have become the first heir to the throne, but now... Intense regret suddenly squeezed his heart, and for a moment, he could barely speak.
"Finally, regarding what punishment the Reach should receive after the war, I am afraid I must ask all of you lords to be mentally prepared. A complete pardon is almost impossible, but according to reliable sources, the Vale has not yet submitted, and the anti-Daenerys alliance of city-states across the Narrow Sea is also well organized and quite threatening. Daenerys and Aegor must also want to resolve the internal conflicts within the Seven Kingdoms as quickly as possible so they can concentrate on fighting external enemies. Considering all factors, I dare to assert: the stronger and more resolute our displayed will to fight, the better our treatment after surrender will be!"
Providing settlement and a way out, is it? I did not travel thousands of miles to Westeros, abandoning the golden rice bowl of Essos's top mercenary company, just to lose half my men and then sneak back like a dog with its tail between its legs!
Harry Strickland was about to say something else when a piercing alarm bell rang near the eastern wall. The enemy pursuers had appeared in sight.
"How many people?"
"About two or three thousand!"
Damn it, two or three thousand people dare to pursue a force ten times their size all the way to the main camp! They simply do not put them in their eyes!
Although they thought this, everyone knew that even these two or three thousand people were more than the allied army could handle right now.
"Quick, close the gates!" There were definitely still routing soldiers who had not escaped in, but they could not worry about that now. Connington stood up. "Everyone who can still stand, get on the walls and prepare for battle! The enemy came quickly, so they definitely do not have siege weapons. As long as we can scare them off and hold out until dark, I will try to negotiate with Aegor tonight!"
Thus, the battle... no, to be precise, the surrender meeting that had just begun was interrupted. Numerous officers and nobles, leading their soldiers, rushed toward the eastern ramparts. Fortunately, even in his haste, Connington had not forgotten to arrange for defense and vigilance, so at least they were not taken by surprise. The sun was already beginning to set now, and no matter how anxious they felt, no one believed that the lightly equipped pursuers could breach the main camp before dark with only two or three thousand men...
But just as the archers and crossbowmen grabbed their gear and climbed the wooden walls, preparing to repel the enemy and buy themselves a night's respite, something unexpected happened in the place where problems should least occur.
The gates would not close.
Not a mechanical failure, but...
"This is bad, Lord Connington!" A knight ran over, holding his helmet, panting and sweating profusely. "Some enemies, carrying our army's banners, sneaked into the camp mixed with the routing soldiers! They have captured the eastern gate now, and we... we cannot take it back!"
(To be continued.)