CHAPTER III - THE LAST DAYS OF WAR
As I had anticipated, our first encounter of the war with the Iron Throne took place on the island of Driftmark. After securing Dragonstone, the most reasonable course of action was to sail to Driftmark and defeat Jamie Lannister's much smaller force. I had hoped that in doing so, I'd be able to capture the Kingslayer, so that he could both answer for his crimes and be used as leverage against his family. The fighting went as expected, with my force easily dispatching the royal host. Having suffered no losses in the taking of Dragonstone, I had nearly nine thousand men at my disposal, a far superior force to the Kingslayer's three. What was unexpected was my encounter with the Kingslayer on the field of battle.
I was leading my own vanguard, and even with one hand, the Kingslayer led his own. Lord Jon had told me tales of the skill of Jaime Lannister, even at a young age. Before the rebellion, Jaime was only a boy of ten and seven, yet was still heralded as one of the finest knights in the Seven Kingdoms. After all, he was a member of the Kingsguard, and the youngest ever at that. From my conversations with the Spider, Lord Varys, I learned that over the next twenty years Jaime Lannister grew to be considered the greatest swordsman in Westeros, perhaps ever, though apparently the Kingslayer himself claimed second best, behind only his mentor, Arthur Dayne. Even with the loss of his sword hand, Jaime Lannister was still a formidable warrior, and so when the time came, and I stared at him in the thick of battle, I challenged him. What kind of leader would I be if I did not?
Though I dare not admit it to my men or my lords, I am glad the fight turned out the way it did. I have been raised since birth to be a king, to be a battlefield commander, but the stories of the Kingslayer's prowess were not exaggerated. For the duration of the fight, the oathbreaker bested me, and to think he was using his weaker hand. Had it not been for the progression of the battle that surrounded us, I fear that my claim to the throne might have ended that day, along with my life. Luckily, my forces were crushing the royal host, and in the process of routing, the Kingslayer was dragged away from our fight so that he might evade capture by our hands. As a result, and as shameful as it is to admit, my life was spared. Victory was ours, and Jaime Lannister was sent scurring back to the capital to lick his wounds. I was knighted on the battlefield that day, for my supposed victory over the Kingslayer in personal combat. If they but knew the truth.
Had circumstances been different, Dragonstone would have served as the perfect platform to launch an assault on the capital from, but I had not the men with me. The battle with the Kingslayer had left me with a thousand wounded men, and near five hundred dead. We set sail for the Stormlands, to regroup with the other half of my army, before marching north to claim King's Landing. Upon arrival in Shipbreaker Bay, I was greeted with welcome news. Euron Grejoy had been pushed from the Reach by Willas Tyrell. Though Mace had died of illness in that period, Willas was now left as the Lord of Highgarden, and a far more capable one at that. He sent word that the armies of the Reach were marching east to fight at our side. Welcome news indeed.
I was also greeted by my wife Margaery, my son Rhaegar and, so too my daughter. There was a part of me that feared that I was not the father, but upon sighting the child's silver hair and purple eyes, I knew that my worries were unfounded. Before my marriage to Margaery, they told me of the girl's many talents, most notably her ability to be loved. They say she was more like her grandmother than her father in that regard, and I was starting to see why. In my absence, she had the aptitude to name our daughter Rhaenys, in honor of my deceased sister. The gesture warmed my heart.
She will make a great queen.
I arrived back in the Stormlands to find that a number of royal hosts had marched in to the lands I had taken. I rendezvoused with a Dornish host and marched on the nearest host from the throne, who had taken up a position at Antlercliff. Reports told that Antlercliff was being held by twelve thousand men loyal to the crown, and were being led by a knight of the Kingsguard, and not just any knight at that. Loras Tyrell, my brother by marriage, was said to be leading the host. My force of eight thousand men, bolstered by some ten thousand Dornishmen, engaged Ser Loras at Antlercliff, winning a decisive victory. It was said that Ser Loras was a formidable warrior, but perhaps he was harboring thoughts of fighting his own brother-in-law, leading to his army's tepid performance against my own.
Though victory at Antlercliff came easily, I suffered my first defeat of the war not long after. Lady Senelle Swygert, leading a force of Stormlander loyalists, combined with Ser Loras' defeated force and returned to face me again. By the time they reached Crow's Nest, my Dornish allies had marched further north into the Crownlands, leaving me with what amounted to roughly five thousand men. A force nearly double our size engaged us, and as hard as we fought, we could not overcome such odds. I sounded the retreat, and at the day's end, three thousand of my men had died at the hands of Lady Senelle, and the Lord Commander of my Kingsguard, Ser Rolly Duck, was taken prisoner. However, as war oft does, a chance was provided to us shortly thereafter to avenge the defeat.
Harry Strickland and the remaining Golden Company had mustered up some support in the Stormlands, and an army of ten thousand men were soon at my side once more. Though some might have viewed it as foolish to engage Lady Senelle and Ser Loras so soon after the defeat, these men were fresh, while those of our enemy were not. Ten thousand of my men engaged nearly ten thousand of theirs, and though the fighting was even at first, the fatigue soon set in. My forces, still fresh, began carving a bloody path through the royal host, and before long, the enemy routed. In the span of a few weeks, our forces had met three times, and at the end of it all, it was our men that emerged victorious.
With Loras Tyrell and his allies pushed out of the Stormlands, our path towards the capital was clear. The Golden Company had suffered some losses, and the ten thousand men I brought with me over two years ago numbered now only little more than seven thousand. Still, they remained loyal to my cause, a loyalty that I would not soon forget. With support growing in the Stormlands for our cause, we were joined in our march by a few thousand Stormlanders, and twenty thousand Dornishmen were now only a few days march behind us. It would take a considerable army of loyalists to halt out advance towards King's Landing.
To the west, our allies from Highgarden were contributing greatly to the war effort. Willas Tyrell, proving himself to be a staunch ally and supreme commander, was holding the might of Casterly Rock at bay, allowing my own forces a clear path towards the throne. Though fatigued from war with the Ironborn, the Reachmen fought on regardless. Willas Tyrell was no doubt attempting to undo the image his bumbling father had garnered fort their house. Our fortunes grew even further when news reached us that the three northern regions- the Riverlands, the Vale and the North- would not be sending men to aid the crown. The alliance between the Starks and Tullys had been strong for decades now, and as they bore no love for the Lannisters, it came as no surprise that they would not aid them in their war.
Though part of me had wanted to scale the walls of King's Landing and take the capital for my own, I knew that the way events unfolded was best for the realm. Willas Tyrell pushed the Lannister armies deep into the Westerlands, and began circling east to march on King's Landing. With thirty thousand men marching from the east, and thirty thousand from the south, Queen Myrcella, though still a girl, made the smartest decision she could possibly make in her situation.
To the glorious Lord Aegon, her letter read,
From this day henceforth, you shall be recognized as the trueborn son and heir of Rhaegar Targaryen and Elia Martell, and rightful king of Westeros. By the decree of Myrcella of the House Baratheon, all forces loyal to the Iron Throne are to stand down, renounce their loyalties to the crown, and swear fealty to you, the rightful king of the Seven Kingdoms. The letter was signed by the girl herself, and marked with her official seal. After many long years of fighting, the war was finally over.
