Chapter 100: The First Assault on the Bloody Gate
The Bloody Gate sits between the treacherous cliffs of the only pass leading from the Mountains of the Moon into the Vale of Arryn. It consists of two watchtowers clinging to the rock face, a high arched bridge of grey stone connecting them, and a series of battlements reinforcing both. From a distance, it looks as if a massive, solid boulder had fallen from the heavens to plug the essential path into the Vale. The gatehouse completely plugs the entrance without leaving a single gap—if the defenders do not open the gates, not even a cat or a dog could pass. While both serve a military purpose, a layman would find it hard to judge which is truly more difficult to conquer.
Regardless, the Bloody Gate certainly lives up to its reputation as the most formidable defensive position in Westeros. With such a natural tactical advantage and a prepared garrison, how could it possibly be broken? Egger harbored private doubts, but being in a field outside his expertise, he dared not make reckless assertions. He decided to simply watch the show.
He could, and in fact, could only watch. As the Night's Watchman in the Host, even if the Buckwell troops he followed—those responsible for his safety—were all sent to the front and wiped out, no one would urge or even permit him to step onto the battlefield.
This was one of the few perks of being a Man of the Black.
The sun poked its head through the peaks of the Mountains of the Moon. The window for the army to take turns eating breakfast had passed, and the cooking smoke drifting in the air gradually rose and dissipated. The assault on the Bloody Gate finally commenced.
The first to move were the scorpions and catapults. The host had not been idle during their days camped outside the canyon; they had hastily constructed a vast array of siege engines, with heavy catapults being the most numerous. Now, these great killers of a backward age were pushed to the front lines one by one. They were lined up in a single row; had the mouth of the canyon been wider, the combined labor and resources of the six kingdoms could have easily deployed a thousand engines to batter the Bloody Gate into rubble.
Under the loud barks of officers, spears serving as bolts for the scorpions whistled off their strings. The arms of the heavy catapults swung upward, and stone projectiles—far more numerous than the spears—soared into the sky as if they cost nothing. Some were so large a grown man could hardly move them; the smaller ones were at least the size of a human head. The bolts from the scorpions achieved little, but the stones traced arcs across the clear sky, leaping hundreds of meters. Some small ones overshot the gate, but most hammered into the battlements or the stone walls. Any man struck was instantly turned into crushed bone, pulp, and gore before he could even scream. Those hitting the walls sent massive shards of stone flying, the thunderous impact creating the illusion that the entire Bloody Gate was trembling.
The defenders began to return fire, but they were far outmatched in both density and range. Despite their geographical advantage, they managed few effective hits that could threaten the allied catapult positions. The narrowness of the Bloody Gate made it easy to defend but also made it impossible for the garrison to deploy large-scale machinery. In terms of firepower, the rebels were completely suppressed.
The projectiles launched by the King's side didn't seem limited to just stone; Egger could see thick smoke beginning to rise from behind the walls of the gate. After several more volleys, the defending soldiers seemed to retreat into cover, and their counterattacks grew even more sporadic.
"Impressive momentum," Egger had to admit, but what then?
The reason the Bloody Gate was an unbreakable pass wasn't just because of a single wall. The builders and their successors had constructed a massive array of solid battlements and towers behind that wall, turning the entire defensive system into a mountain-like structure dozens of meters high and wide. Even if you smashed it, it would remain a giant heap blocking the way. If the gate itself collapsed, it might actually make it harder for the army to pass!
Soon, Egger's confusion was answered.
Once the catapults had destroyed enough of the defense's machinery and suppressed their spirit, the first units of archers and crossbowmen were deployed. While the scorpions and catapults continued their relentless barrage, these men advanced in orderly ranks over a hundred meters toward the gate, soon reaching effective range and letting fly.
Wait, this looks familiar... fire cover? Standing in the distance, Egger was somewhat dumbfounded. In his mind, everything in this world was so backward that there shouldn't be any advanced tactics in war. He had assumed Robert's assault would be nothing more than a human wave tactic—soldiers charging with ladders and swarming the grey stone walls like ants. He never expected this level of coordination.
Television shows really are the death of accurate expectations.
While he was still staring in surprise, the drums began to thunder and the war cries erupted.
The Bloody Gate was situated at the narrowest point of the pass. The space available for the attackers was simply too small. With eighty thousand soldiers and tens of thousands of camp followers, the total exceeded one hundred thousand, but no more than a thousand could actually charge into the mouth of the canyon to implement an attack. This meant most people, like Egger, were just spectators, contributing only through their cheers.
Amidst the roars of the onlookers, a unit of several hundred men emerged from the main camp, shouting rhythmic cadences. They surrounded a massive war machine—a battering ram nearly thirty meters long with a gold-plated head. The ram pushed through the crowds; a small portion of the men were responsible for pushing the vehicle, while the other half crowded around, presumably tasked with swinging the ram once in position or replacing casualties.
The ram was equipped with fixed shields to protect the pushers and the escort. Under the collective effort, it quickly passed the catapult line, moved through a gap left by the archers providing cover fire, and entered the canyon to close in on the Bloody Gate.
Egger heard the shouts of alarm and the barking of orders from the defenders. The Vale soldiers, who had been pinned down by the hail of stones and arrows, scrambled to show their heads and return fire. Stones flew like rain, and a continuous mist of arrows shrouded the battlefield. The attackers' arrows worked to suppress the battlements, claiming lives with every volley; the defenders' arrows concentrated on the slowly approaching ram, clattering incessantly against its frame and shields until it resembled a hedgehog. The narrowness of the pass was a double-edged sword: only one ram could fit in the passage, which hindered the advance, but the overwhelming fire superiority of the attackers only needed to cover a narrow section of wall to inflict constant casualties.
With a great shout, the catapult fire ceased—as the ram drew close to the gate, further shots risked friendly fire. Under the gaze of countless eyes, the ram pushed aside obstacles, crossed a narrow trench with the help of those pushing and lifting it, and slammed against the door. Braving the flaming oil and stones dropped by the defenders, the ram began to swing.
THOOM— THOOM—
With each dull impact that seemed to vibrate through one's very core, the cheers of the remaining allied host died down. Even Egger held his breath. In that moment, it felt as if the only sound left in the world was the metal-shod head of the ram striking the great gate.
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