Chapter 37: Aegor III
A year into the war and Aegor was certain that things would continue as they had been for some time. The Golden Fields were a mess of bodies and elephants and horses now. He was sure that by the time they were done, the minerals in the area would have disappeared, or certainly gone elsewhere. That did not quite matter now, Aegor knew that they had to win. His pay masters wanted a victory and the Golden Company always delivered. He had seen some of the soldiers beginning to lose faith, and so he had rallied them and delivered one or two speeches to keep morale up, it seemed to be working for the time being. No one had tried to desert as of yet.
Right now, the ground was littered with bodies, the men around him were fighting for their very existence. As he was as well. His sword had not rested since the day before, or was it the day before that? He could not quite remember. The war was taking much out of him; indeed he was quite sure he'd lost a few of the friends who'd come with him into exile the first time around. Aegor demanded some sort of relief, or rather his body did. But his mind knew that to seek such relief would mean death. The enemy, or enemies were fighting with everything they had. The red priests of Asshai had wreaked havoc on their first few fights, but then Aegor had figured out how to kill them. They always looked east toward Asshai and left themselves exposed. A simple knife in the back did for most of them.
Since then, the Asshai had not sent out their red priests, but instead had sent out the monsters, half human, half something else. A beast that was long forgotten in the memory of man. Every time those monsters appeared, Aegor felt himself shiver with fear. For some reason, they had not attacked him or his, and instead had attacked the other side. The Company of the Cat and the Company of the Companions. And they had been ravaged. But that had not stopped them. Indeed, the Dothraki had sided with the monsters then, appearing to worship them. Aegor had never understood the Dothraki, they appeared more like fools and idiots than anything else.
The battle brought him back to attention quite quickly. There was a thump on his helm, the sound of some eager idiot trying to create chaos. Aegor slashed and hacked and the man fell. He stepped over the man's body and took count of the situation. Dagger Lake was to their right, the men of the enemy were divided into three divisions all of them somewhat faulty, and somewhat less. He knew that their side had some five divisions all of which were strong and holding well despite the varying conditions. "Move forward, formation Scorpio." He roared. The order was passed down the line and as one the Golden Company formed up, horses and men all pressed together as they marched forward. Those who were in their way were crushed, whilst others fled before them.
Aegor led the assault, as he always did during training. He had observed how other companies exercised manoeuvres and he had determined where their weaknesses were. He knew that leaving one's sides open to being probed would never deliver positive results, therefore he was determined to prevent such gaps from being put before his army. He trained the men regularly on this to the point where if needed they could exercise it and ensure that they could fix any mistakes. Such as right now where one of the men slipped and fell, in another company he would be trampled over, but here he was picked up and the assault continued.
Aegor watched as the enemy were destroyed, decimated and reduced to nothing. He felt a sense of pride, a strong sense of it. Not for the first time he wished that he had done this same thing when fighting for Daemon during the first war. He knew that in time they could take the throne of Westeros for Haegon. His spies reported that increasingly, the nobles were growing tired of Aerys and Bloodraven, something he had always thought would happen. It was almost a shame that this was so. He would have preferred to have the challenge of fighting Baelor Breakspear himself. That man would have been a challenge with his skill in both politics and war.
Aegor knew they were finishing off the enemy as quickly as they could, and he spotted the banner of a cat with a black dragon and knew who that was. The fool who had chosen neither Daemon nor Daeron during the war. A fool who had to be dealt with. Aegor roared a command and the men marched with him, killing members of the Company of the Cat as they went. When they reached the man who Aegor had decided would die, he was covered in blood, and sweating profusely. He did not care. He bellowed a challenge and then sword and axe crashed against one another.
Balerion was someone Aegor had once respected, he had been a trickster and a good fighter, but now he was nothing more than a trickster and a lout. He had refused Daemon, and he had refused much more. He had to die to make up for the errors he had made. Aegor hacked and slashed, and blocked. Balerion fought as the pirate he was. Aegor fought like the knight he was. They were evenly matched in some regards, and not so much in others. He managed to destroy Balerion's defences and continued pushing. Balerion fought back hard and Aegor took blow upon blow. Still he kept going.
Eventually Balerion fell, his head sliced, his helmet gone and broken. Aegor watched him fall, then grunted. He had other things he needed to do. He barked the orders and the fighting continued. One commander was dead, now if he could find the Targaryen Prince he could very well end this. Imagining Maekar's face at learning that Aegor had killed his son would be something hilarious.