Chapter 193

"Your Grace, the Stormlands and Reach armies have completed their encampment outside the city. They number approximately thirty thousand, divided into seven groups, with no less than two thousand soldiers stationed outside each gate. The Lion Gate, King's Gate, and River Gate have the largest contingents, each exceeding five thousand," the messenger reported loudly, kneeling on one knee. "Lord Renly's banner flies outside the King's Gate, and his men are shouting, demanding that Your Grace come out to negotiate."

"Negotiate?" A cold smile crept onto Stannis's face. "A rebel who disregards his elder brother's will and the rightful line of succession, trampling all sense of ethics and law, dares to seek negotiation with the true king? Maintain the defenses and ignore whatever nonsense they shout... No, wait. Respond to them. Send someone with a loud voice to tell them this: lower the rebel banners of the false king and kneel before me to beg forgiveness for defying your brother. Only then might you have a chance to live."

Eddard Stark opened his mouth as if to speak but ultimately sighed, choosing silence. He didn’t know Renly well, but it was clear enough that persuading a duke who had raised his banners for the Iron Throne to lay down arms and admit guilt was an impossible task.

"That boy Renly," Stannis sneered once the messenger departed, "has always loved gaudy displays and theatrics. King’s Landing is a great city, with high walls and strong fortifications, yet instead of concentrating his forces to exploit a weak point, he splits them up, attempting an all-out assault—a child’s strategy. The Stormlands have no true generals, and the Reach’s only capable commander, Randyll Tarly, is off fighting in the Westerlands. I have no need to cower behind the city walls. I should take the initiative, crush the rebels, and drag my brother in chains to the Red Keep's dungeons."

"No one doubts Your Grace's command abilities, but we must face the reality of our situation," Eddard said, his voice heavy with concern. "Half of the City Watch are new recruits, and even among the veterans, their combat skills are dubious at best. They might manage a defense, but fielding them in open battle is out of the question. The levies raised by the Crownlands are mostly farmers; there aren’t even many knights among them. As for the army you brought, Your Grace, they come from scattered sources, with a third of them being sailors. These groups thrown together wouldn’t even be able to form proper battle lines. The best course of action is to hold the city and wait for reinforcements from the Crownlands to arrive."

Eddard was right, and Stannis begrudgingly acknowledged it. It had been over ten days since they learned of the Stormlands army’s unusual movements. In that time, the City Watch had hastily expanded from two thousand to four thousand men. The Crownlands lords had scraped together another two thousand levies, and Stannis had brought nearly three thousand men from the Narrow Sea lords. Altogether, King’s Landing now had nearly ten thousand defenders.

The defenders faced a three-to-one disadvantage, which ordinarily wouldn’t be an insurmountable challenge. But the soldiers’ poor quality turned the situation into a grim embarrassment, forcing two seasoned commanders from the Rebellion—who had faced fire and blood—into hiding behind city walls to avoid a direct confrontation with a green commander like Renly.

It was disgraceful.

...

"Deep Den is only a few hundred miles from King’s Landing," Stannis muttered, frowning as he turned to Eddard. "Renly gathered mercenaries and wandering knights along the way and waited for reinforcements from the Reach. His progress has been slow enough. Even if the Crownlands forces were delayed, they shouldn’t have taken this long. Why haven’t we heard anything from them? Have they encountered trouble, or are they deliberately stalling to give the rebels an advantage?"

"Perhaps Renly split his forces to intercept them, causing delays," Eddard offered, though unease flickered in his heart. Renly had long been close to many Crownlands lords, and Stannis’s suspicions weren’t unfounded. But with the army outside the city and the rebels blocking all communication, there was no way to influence the situation. "At least they haven’t joined Renly’s forces… for now, all we can do is wait."

"Join the rebels? When many of the Crownlands lords have their families inside this city? They wouldn’t dare," Stannis growled.

(If only I’d brought Melisandre…) Stannis thought, his frown deepening into a scowl. The Red Woman had lived on Dragonstone for over a year, demonstrating powers that were no mere parlor tricks. Just a fortnight ago, she had foretold the upheaval in King’s Landing and warned of betrayal. Was the Crownlands army’s delay part of the treachery she had prophesied?

If she were here, Stannis could have questioned her directly. But when he received Eddard’s summons, he had been chasing pirates near Crab Bay with the Dragonstone fleet. In his haste to reach King’s Landing, he hadn’t even stopped at Dragonstone, leaving his wife, daughter, and Melisandre behind. Now, plagued by doubts, he could only stew in frustration.

Shaking off his thoughts, Stannis chastised himself. During the Rebellion, he had held Storm’s End against the full might of Mace Tyrell’s army with only a few hundred men, never letting the enemy breach the walls. Back then, he had faced overwhelming odds without fear or hesitation. How had he become a man who now pinned his hopes on reinforcements and supernatural aid when faced with merely three times his own numbers?

He cursed himself under his breath, straightened his back, and found the resolve of a commander once more. The city’s supplies were sufficient, and his experience in siege warfare was unparalleled. If they held out for ten or fifteen days, the Seven Kingdoms would see their new king standing firm in his capital, and any treachery or delay would crumble under the weight of time. Besides, the North still stood behind him, and he had allies there to rely on.

Stannis quickly formulated a plan and issued his orders: "Eddard Stark, as Hand of the King, you will command two thousand men to defend the River Gate and the nearby sections of the city walls. Davos Seaworth, my new Master of Ships, your first battle will unfortunately not be at sea. You will take two thousand men and hold the Lion Gate. I will personally take command at the King’s Gate and face my foolish brother head-on, showing the realm the difference between a true king and a pretender. The remaining four gates will each be defended by five hundred men. The remaining thousand will maintain order within the city and serve as a reserve force to reinforce any gate under threat."

"Understood!" came the replies.

"Renly will likely launch his attack soon. The meeting is adjourned. If anything unexpected occurs, follow the contingency plans we discussed earlier."

...