Storm’s End itself is a massive tower, encircled by an outer wall one hundred feet high and forty feet thick—twice as thick along the seaside.

This is the strongest castle in the Seven Kingdoms. Like Casterly Rock and the Eyrie, it has never fallen to a direct assault. The Golden Company had seized Storm’s End by taking advantage of the chaos following Renly’s death, when the Stormlords were leaderless and uncertain of their allegiances. They succeeded through deception, not force. But that was an exception. Once the defenders are on high alert, there’s no way to take it other than by breaching the gate or scaling the walls with overwhelming power.

However, Stannis had lived here for more than ten years. He had even defended it in the famous “Siege of Storm’s End” during Robert’s Rebellion. He knew every stone and beam, every blade of grass and tree within its walls. He believed that he could easily reclaim it, assert his authority as king, and subdue the Seven Kingdoms.

But when Stannis truly launched his assault, he found things were not as simple as he had imagined. It was said that magic had been woven into the very walls of Storm’s End. Unfortunately, that magic did not make the walls any thinner or more fragile just because the attacker had once called the place home and was its rightful heir. The very fortifications that had made the castle famous across the continent—and that Stannis had personally reinforced during Robert’s Rebellion—now stood in the way of his victory: seamlessly repaired, solid from top to bottom, without a single weak point.

More than a decade later, Stannis was finally tasting the pain of gnawing on this tough bone.

…

Being without weakness doesn’t mean being invincible. Stannis knew well which direction of attack would minimize the defenders’ firepower, which parts of the wall were lower and easier to climb, and which gates were most vulnerable to assault. Though Storm’s End was difficult to breach, if given time to prepare siege weapons specifically designed for the task, it would only be a matter of time before he reclaimed his ancestral home.

But unexpected setbacks dashed those hopes.

First came the Dornish army, led by Oberyn Martell, the Red Viper. They openly ignored orders, marching north and stopping less than a dozen miles from Storm’s End to set up camp. They refused to come forward to explain their actions to the king. Though they made no direct provocations or attacks, their clear hostility forced Stannis to assign large numbers of troops to monitor and defend against them, greatly slowing the progress of the siege.

Then the Northern army clashed with the Reach forces for the third time to the west of Bronzegate. This time, Randyll Tarly led the Reach’s elite forces slowly up the Rose Road. Robb Stark was no longer able to rout his foes in a single decisive strike, as he had done in the Westerlands and King’s Landing. The two sides fought head-on for two days, and for the first time in this expedition, the Northern army suffered a setback due to being outnumbered. They were forced to retreat to Bronzegate, relying on the castle to block the Reach army’s advance toward Storm’s End.

…

To make matters worse, news arrived just then of the Ironborn invasion and raids in the North. Morale in the Northern army wavered, and thoughts of returning home spread like wildfire, weakening their will to fight.

—

The empty royal treasury worsened the situation. Soldiers needed to be paid every day the war dragged on. Though Stannis had punished traitorous lords of the Stormlands and collected a large ransom from Tywin Lannister the month before, those funds were nearly exhausted after just a month.

Stannis sat in his tent, staring at a table filled with bad news, burdened by the crushing weight of reality. He began to regret driving Melisandre away. That damned woman had kept claiming he was the chosen one, the prince in the prophecy, the rightful ruler of the Seven Kingdoms… But after convincing him to believe her—convincing him even to commit the grave sin of kinslaying—she had not helped him consolidate his rule. Instead, she forced him to march north to deal with the Free Folk.

Worse still, at the moment when he most needed supernatural aid, she had left him and run off to the Wall. Yes, he had driven her away in a fit of anger, but he hadn’t told her to flee so far!

Should he summon her back? But if he did, where would a man’s pride and a king’s dignity go?

Just as he was pondering this, more trouble arrived.

“Your Grace, the envoy from the Iron Bank requests an audience.”

Stannis’s face turned grim. “Come to collect the debt again, have they? Tell him I won’t see him.”

Ser Barristan, standing by solemnly, could remain silent no longer. “Your Grace, you may refuse any visitor—but not someone from the Iron Bank. If they interpret this slight as you intending to repudiate the debt and then turn to others willing to acknowledge it, the Seven Kingdoms will know no peace.”

“Should I be afraid of threats from bankers across the Narrow Sea?”

“Your Grace, all know you are the bravest man in the Seven Kingdoms,” said Ser Davos Seaworth, the Onion Knight, who knew the king’s temper and quickly stepped in. “But you don’t need to take unnecessary risks to prove it. The best course is to receive the Iron Bank’s envoy, acknowledge the debt, and explain that you are in dire straits and short of funds. Simply show your goodwill. You needn’t pay a single gold dragon… and you’ll have weathered this moment.”

Stannis knew both advisors spoke sincerely. But the thought still stung: Robert had won endless praise and popularity by borrowing and handing out gold, yet left the kingdom in ruins. Now, Stannis sat on an empty throne, forced to repay a monstrous debt for the brother who lived in debauchery. It was an injustice that burned deep.

But the world is not fair. Hadn’t he taken back the throne that should’ve been his through war and questionable means? Stannis straightened his thoughts, adjusted his posture, and said with a stiff expression, “Bring him in.”

…

A newly appointed Kingsguard turned and left the tent, soon returning with a stranger.

“Your Grace, I am Curtis Lane, a representative of the Iron Bank,” said the Braavosi man. “I have come to discuss the debt owed by the Iron Throne.”

“Ha—debt. Yes, I’ve yet to receive a single coin from the Iron Bank, and suddenly I’m saddled with millions in debt. And you call it a ‘debt issue’!”

“To be precise, it is 2,154,621 gold dragons. That is the amount in default from the Iron Throne’s most recent repayment cycle…” Curtis added, “The debt belongs to the Iron Throne. Whoever sits upon it must honor that debt. We believe His Grace Stannis is a reasonable man and will understand. Now, we hope you will explain the missed payment.”

“Well, here’s your explanation: I’m burning through gold in war and can’t spare a penny.” Stannis couldn’t care less about the exact amount. What difference did it make whether it was two million or two hundred thousand? “The debt belongs to the Iron Throne? Very well. Barristan, take this esteemed envoy back to King’s Landing, remove the Iron Throne from the throne room, and ship it to Braavos.”

…

What’s going on? All intelligence said Stannis Baratheon was a rigid and upright man—not someone prone to evasion or mockery. Curtis rubbed his fingers together, realizing he had come at a bad time and triggered the king’s anger. His clever rhetoric was of little use now. After a pause of several seconds, he continued, “Your Grace, when we say the debt belongs to the Iron Throne, we mean it belongs to the rightful ruler of Westeros. Just now, are you denying that you are the legitimate heir of King Robert?”

“It was only a joke. Surely you understand the concept of humor,” Davos quickly interjected. “King Stannis is King Robert’s rightful heir. He acknowledges his brother’s debt. However, he is unable to repay it until he has eliminated the false king currently occupying Storm’s End.”

(Am I the rightful ruler of the Seven Kingdoms? Since when was it your place to say so?) Stannis fumed, but Davos’s interruption steadied him. It was not a king’s job to argue with petty words. He took a deep breath and swallowed his anger. “Enough. I acknowledge the debt but request a delay in repayment. Furthermore, I wish to apply for a new loan to address the shortage in military funds.”

“The penalty fee for delayed repayment is not low. If Your Grace confirms the request, I will speak with your Master of Coin to arrange it,” Curtis replied. “As for a new loan, I must apologize. According to the Iron Bank’s latest risk assessment of Westeros, the risk has greatly exceeded acceptable thresholds. Until the end of this winter, I am no longer authorized to lend funds to any faction in Westeros.”

“Risk assessment, exceeded.” Was it the Free Folk… or those damned wights? These new terms only worsened Stannis’s mood. “So you demand repayment, yet refuse to offer any assistance? Then what benefit do I gain by acknowledging the debt?”

“The benefit is that the Iron Bank will offer protection and intelligence services in addition to monetary support,” Curtis replied. “As for a new loan, it is not entirely impossible. If Your Grace fulfills the repayment requirements in the next cycle, you may seek approval from a higher-ranking representative.”

“Protection and intelligence services? You mean if I don’t pay, my safety won’t be guaranteed? That without your intelligence, I can’t win the war?” Stannis felt truly threatened now, and his temper snapped. “I have my Kingsguard and Master of Whisperers. I don’t need the Iron Bank’s ‘protection’ and ‘intelligence services’! Now that you’ve delivered your message, I’ve acknowledged the debt. I’ll repay it when I have the coin!”

“I meant no offense, Your Grace. Please forgive me if I’ve spoken out of turn.” Curtis bowed respectfully. “I understand your position. I will return to King’s Landing and complete the process for delayed repayment with your Master of Coin. However, as a matter of courtesy and transparency, I must inform you—delaying repayment will result in severe compound interest. In the long term, the cost will be steep…”

Stannis grabbed the water cup on the table and nearly hurled it like his brother Robert would have. “Interest? Get out. Leave however you like, just get out of my sight. I have matters to discuss with my council!”

After the banker left, Davos sighed and continued his report. “Your Grace, the ransom paid by Lord Tywin is nearly gone. Robb Stark has written a third time, requesting to lead his men north to suppress the Ironborn rebellion… Lord Eddard Stark died proclaiming your legitimacy. Now half the North is under Ironborn control, and we’re running out of funds to pay our soldiers. I suggest we retreat to King’s Landing and regroup, then consider how to put down the rebellion.”

“Retreat? And let the one calling himself Aegon VI hold Storm’s End, my birthplace, and become an even greater threat to my claim?”

“Your Grace, Robb Stark also sent a private letter with the raven, marked for your eyes only. Here it is.”

Such letters, delivered by hand and sealed, carried less risk of interception. At a time like this, the contents could only be bad news. Stannis took the letter grimly, broke the seal, and read it.

Half a minute later, he crumpled it into a ball and threw it into the fire.

As Barristan and Davos watched, Stannis spoke: “The message is simple. Whether I agree or not, the Northern army will withdraw in five days to return north and deal with the Ironborn.”

The tent fell into silence.

The Northern army had answered the Iron Throne’s call twice in a year—already more than was required. Their departure, following formal notice, violated no law in the Seven Kingdoms. Not even a king could compel them to stay.

The situation was now beyond saving. Robb Stark had written in secret only to prevent panic and disarray among the royal forces. He had done all he could.

Veins bulged on Stannis’s forehead. He knew he had no choice. Without nearly twenty thousand Northern troops, he could not stop the Riverlands army from marching east to relieve Storm’s End, or moving north to threaten King’s Landing. He could not rely solely on the Crownlands, Riverlands, and Vale to hold the line against the combined strength of the Riverlands, Dorne, and the Golden Company. Soon, not only would he fail to retake Storm’s End—he might not even be able to withdraw safely from the Stormlands.

“Your Grace,” said Barristan, watching the silent king. “It is the greatest shame for a lord to be unable to protect the lands of his bannermen. As the new Warden of the North, Robb’s decision is understandable. He is not betraying you. The departure of the Northern army will undoubtedly affect the morale of the Riverlands and Vale forces. Rather than dissolving in panic after five days, it is better to withdraw with dignity while the troops are still united under your command. Then we can plan our next move.”

—

“No matter how gracefully you exit a battlefield, defeat is still defeat.”

Stannis wasn’t the kind of man to deny reality. Davos shrugged. “Your Grace, this is only one failed offensive. You still rule the Crownlands and three northern kingdoms. Half of the Stormlands and many of its lords remain loyal. You are the recognized king of the Seven Kingdoms. You have the standing to suffer setbacks. Why get caught up in the idea of defeat?”

“Wait. Who says withdrawing from the battlefield is defeat?” Barristan challenged. “Why not follow the current and say we’re changing objectives—retreating not because we failed, but to suppress the Greyjoy rebellion in the west? If we strike down the krakens, the Starks will see Your Grace’s loyalty and lend their full support against the pretender dragons backed by the Reach and the Golden Company!”

“But we can’t actually suppress the Greyjoys,” Davos said. “If we send troops west, the Reach and Dorne will march on King’s Landing with ‘Aegon VI.’ Between the capital and a few ruined islands in the Sunset Sea, the choice is clear.”

…

“Wait, both of you be quiet.” Listening to the exchange between the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard and the Hand of the King, Stannis suddenly had a new thought. His expression shifted from gloom to resolve. “Barristan reminded me… Who says failing to reclaim Storm’s End means failure? The Northern army will leave in five days. Why can’t I use those five days to make one last bold move?”

“What does Your Grace mean?”

“I just realized—we’ve been caught in the wrong mindset. The Targaryens once ruled the realm, so we assumed anyone flying their banner must be crushed. But think about it—why should I be in such a rush? Targaryen’s former allies were the Reach and Dorne. Now both stand against me. Of the remaining five kingdoms, four once helped overthrow the Targaryens. They won’t back another. The Lannisters also loathe House Targaryen… Even if I leave this so-called Aegon alone, he won’t gain many allies or grow stronger!”

Davos understood what Stannis meant. “So…”

“I don’t need to exhaust myself against Storm’s End. I should strike at the false dragon’s allies first!” Stannis clenched his jaw, irritated he hadn’t seen it sooner. “If I defeat the Riverlands and Dorne so they can no longer muster troops, I’ll have the time to deal with this ‘Aegon VI’ later.”

“Exactly, Your Grace!” Barristan said, excited. “We can leave behind a decoy force to continue the siege of Storm’s End. The main host withdraws quietly and strikes Randyll Tarly or Oberyn Martell. If either suffers a heavy blow, we can retreat or pivot to the other. We’ll have the initiative!”

“Yes… It’s just a shame I only thought of this now,” Stannis growled. “Dorne has been eyeing our army for days. A surprise attack on them might be difficult. We’ll have to pick the Reach. If we march immediately and move quickly, we can circle west of Bronzegate in two days and attack from both flanks with the Northern army. Victory will be ours!”

(To be continued.)

***

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep