DAVOS IV

The enemy stirred up at the very moment the pyre was lit. The signal was sent in the form of a banner being shaken. Davos had no choice but to give the order. From the battlements where he stood, he could see all the movements of both sides. Stark and Tully horsemen rode to the king's lines, and just when they began to move Stannis' own cavalry ran to meet them.

Davos could hear the shock even from where he stood. Knights and men on horse from both sides battled in the middle of the field while fire reached the victim. Davos thought he despaired just as much as the Northerners to see one of their countrymen being sacrificed in this way. The father was in the other army. What if it had been Matthos on this pyre?

The infantry of the North and the Riverlands charged as well, trying to push forward in a desperate attempt to save the burning man. Stannis' cavalry slowly fell back.

He looked at the other people with him on the walls. They didn't know what was about to happen. He looked to his son, who stood proud next to him. Unlike him, Matthos showed no sign of shock or horror at the sight of the sacrificed man. He had the look of… a fanatic. That was the truth. His face and eyes told the same story as those of Queen Selyse or Ser Axell Florent when the Red Woman lit her fire every night.

And here she was, Melisandre, riding with two guards to the gates. The king wouldn't let her near the battlefield after she lit the stake. She was too precious to put her in danger. It had been her idea to burn that young man before the Northerners. To bring the Lord's favor on our king, she said. To lure the Starks into attacking, Stannis thought. To set a trap. He wished that woman had stayed behind to burn with her victim.

And the trap was triggered. A row of fire emerged from the middle of the battlefield, green flames rose to cut the Stark troops in two. Earth and dust were propelled in all directions. The battle seemed to cease for a moment, fighters from both armies totally surprised by this sudden turn of events. Screams were heard as some men burned and others were covered by the earth of the land they fought on the instant before. Only Stannis and his closest advisors knew of the whole plan. Pots of wildfire hidden in a tunnel that went under the field at this place, lit by a single torch dropped by a soldier who accepted to sacrifice himself for the Prince That Was Promised and his cause. With hope, the other men in these tunnels wouldn't die. Davos had given the signal to the first, at the entrance. He had waved a torch, which made another man inside the tunnel wave his own, then another further in waved his torch as well, and so on until it reached the lad who stood right next to the row of piled pots, filled with green liquid. Here was the result. If Davos had ever believed in gods, he would have prayed for no other men to die in these tunnels. However, he knew this was only the beginning.

The Lady Melisandre arrived at the gates just when Stannis gave the order. From both wings, the reinforced flanks of his army charged the flanks of the enemy. In fact, they charged half the enemy, the part that was stuck between Stannis' lines and the wildfire. Soon, this part of Robb Stark's army was surrounded on all sides, and the other half was cut from it by the fire, stunned by the recent events. Stannis' officers, only aware that they were to outflank the enemy at a convened signal, were surprised by the outburst of flames, but not as much as Northerners and men of the Riverlands. The soldiers of Stannis had seen wildfire before, Robb Stark's men had not.

Just as the slaughter began, the Red Woman appeared next to him.

"See, Ser Davos. The Lord of Light is with us. He's granted our king his victory."

"At what price?"

He looked to his son as he asked the question to which he didn't expect an answer. Matthos was still looking at the battle that raged below them, seeing the hand of Melisandre and her red god in this. But that slaughter wasn't the work of the Lord of Light, or the work of Melisandre. It was the work of the man who relayed the signal when he could have stopped it. It was Davos Seaworth's doing and no one else.


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