Aegon

"I will not fail you, my prince. I will make you proud for the honour you have placed upon me." Ser Myles swung up into his saddle, every inch the shining knight in his bright mail and flowing white cloak lined with golden thread along the edges. A red salmon ornamented the front of his surcoat, twin to the one painted on his shield.

"I know, ser. You have always served my father and family well. And I have no reason to believe otherwise."

"They will not cross the river," Myles Mooton promised. He wheeled his warhorse about and raised a hand. Trumpets sounded, a drum began to boom, and Ser Myles Mooton led his men out from Aegon's main camp at the Trident to the fortifications a bare few leagues north of his position to prevent any crossing there. They rode out with lances raised and banners streaming.

I hope you hold the banks, Ser, Aegon thought as he watched them go. This will be our last stand in this war.

Aegon had sent his best men to hold the fords along the Trident, himself holding the center at the crossing nearby the crossroads and sending Ser Jonothor Darry to hold the crossing to the south in the fords upriver and Ser Myles to the hold the fording in the north. He had taken the best of his strength at the front lines to hold the river and prevent Andrew Stark from crossing. He had taken every able-bodied man for the fords, leaving Lord Renfred Rykker to hold Harrenhal and command a light garrison and take charge of the camp made up of the wounded, the old, and the sick, along with a few squires and some untrained peasant boys still shy of manhood. The meager garrison he had left at Harrenhal would not be near enough to hold a castle as massive as Harrenhal, but Aegon was not expecting any imminent attack on the castle. And Harren's monstrosity could easily withstand any assault that it might face.

When the last of Ser Myles' foot had shuffled past the wooden stakes which served as the barricade to his camp, Ser Willem Darry asked, "What shall we do now, your grace?"

"We wait." Aegon turned away from his place and made back to his pavilion. He expected an attack in a week's time. His scouts had seen riders flying the direwolf banners of House Stark from the tips of their lances and he also received reports of a massive army coming out of Riverrun. Lord Jon sent word that he received the same reports as well. The letters he had sent Aegon said as much. Reading those letters made his remember Stoney Sept and how he had let the Stormlords make it to Riverrun. The thought of the ruse still left a bad taste in his mouth. He had won a battle that day, but lost more than he had gained. Could this be another one of his cousin's trick as well? He could never be at two places at once...or could he?

Either way, the Prince of Dragonstone had decided to face the rebel in battle, whether he comes his way or not. When he took Rhaegal to flight to confirm his suspicions he had gazed at the dust cloud left by the rebel forces as they thundered their way over to him. Aegon had half a mind to take the battle to them and bring fire and blood to them as they were still marching off to war. Yet the thought of a hidden trap and the dishonour that might come with such an attack had made him return to his camp in peace. He will not have it said that Aegon Targaryen feared meeting Andrew Stark in battle and had him killed while the King was still dressed in a tunic. He will not make a martyr out of the rebel like his father had done his.

He would do his duty to his father and the realm and put this rebellion down for good. It was expected of me after all, he thought. He had seen the destructions this war had brought forth and Aegon knew it was the prince's duty to serve his realm and save his people. And when that was done maybe he will bring his brother back from the Wall. His mother would no doubt like to see him. And Jaehaerys' presence might brighten her moods as well. The last Aegon had seen his mother she was terribly disturbed by his brother's fate in the north. He had seen her in her need for prayer before the heart tree at the godswood of the Red Keep, not a true weirwood but a tall and serene oak in its stead. Aegon had found her murmuring a prayer for him and another for his brother off beyond the Wall. When he had told her his goodbyes she had clutched him with such a strength that it took him a good deal of time before she would let go. He wondered how she was of is she was fine.

His steps took him back to his pavilion, a four-sided structure made of black canvas set amidst the center of the camp and was sporting the three headed dragon of House Targaryen from its top. The camp was already crowded with men from the Crownlands, Riverlands and Dorne and Reach all come together into one to fight for their King.

Outside, a light celebration was carrying on to keep the men on high spirits going into the impending danger. A singer named Rymund the Rhymer sat by the brewhouse amidst a circle of listeners, his deep voice ringing as he sang of Lord Deremond at the Bloody Meadow.

Aegon paused to listen for a moment, the Kingsguard halting beside him. Once upon a time he would have swung a wooden sword pretending to be Lord Deremond, screeching and flailing at his brother with sticks playing at war. He missed that at the moment, the thought of how a boy's play at war had been easier than a man's. The singer's voice swelled as he neared the end of his song.

"Fighting is better than this waiting," Aegon said. "Don't you agree Ser Barristan?"

The knight looked as if he was in a deep thought. He swiftly came back from his thoughts and gazed up at him with his gentle blue eyes. "Yes, your grace," he answered politely.

"You don't feel so helpless when you fight. You have a sword and a horse, sometimes an axe. When you're armored it's hard for anyone to hurt you."

Ser Barristan looked as if he wanted to say something to that but he held his tongue and simply nodded.

Later that day, his scouts returned from the western bank of the Trident to bring back their reports from their recent ride. Aegon was supping on roasted swan stuffed with prunes and plums when the flaps to the tent opened and he turned to look. It was Ser Barristan who brought the news to him, clad in white, his longsword at his side. "Your Grace," he said, bowing, "I am sorry to disturb you, but I thought that you would want to know at once. The scouts have returned to the camp, with word of the foe. The Starks are on the march, just as we had feared." A flicker of hesitation passed over his face when he saw him at supper. "Would your grace like me to ask them to wait?"

Aegon knew from the look on the old knight's face that it was serious. "Take away the food and clear the table. Food can wait, but the matters of war cannot. Send them in I will hear them now."

Ser Barristan nodded. Before he could leave however, Aegon stopped him. "Convene my lords and commanders as well, Ser Barristan. I want to have their counsel as well. And ask a maester to send word to Ser Myles and Ser Jon Darry as well."

"As you wish." The kingsguard said.

Aegon smiled genially at his squire and the serving girls. "You can leave now. I will have no more duties for you in this night."

The servants hurried off, after cleaning the table and putting away the half eaten plates and its contents neatly away to the back of the pavilion. When they left Aegon waited for his Lords and commanders to arrive. Ser Barristan was the first to arrive and the Darrys came in behind him, Ser Willem and Lord Derrick, Ser Roland and Ser Desmond who were his nephews, Lords Goodbrook, Butterwell, Charlton, Hayford, Gaunt, Mallery and the others who were sworn to Dragonstone itself, Lord Ardrian Celtigar, Ser Torgarion Bar Emmon and others.

Ser Raymun Darry held command of his outriders. He was an able knight, and Aegon had handed him the command because he knew these lands better than anyone else. After all these are the domains of House Darry. Ser Raymun took a knee before him. His hair was matted with sweat, and on his temple was a smattering of dried blood. "You've been in a fight?" Aegon asked.

Ser Raymun Darry touched his temple. "We came across some of Andrew Stark's outriders and trade blows with them. We came about them thrice, each scouting party larger than the last. We chased them off the first two times but the third was so big that we had to flee and outrace them. I was hurrying home to bring you the important news, your grace."

"How many men did we lose?" Aegon asked when he was done.

"A few," Ser Raymun said. "But the enemy lost two for every one of us."

"Very gallant of you ser," Aegon said lifting him up on his feet. "And what tidings do you bring for me?"

"Hard tidings, your grace. Stone Hedge has fallen, and the rebels are coming east in strength."

"We know of this already," growled Lord Hayford.

"That is not all, my lords," Darry said. "There is more, and worse. The enemy is too close that we expected, your grace. The lands to the western bank are aswarm with knights and sworn swords flying the banners of stag and direwolf and falcon. There are countless others as well. Even their scouting parties are big enough that we had to cut our way through all of them. The Dragonslayer is marching his host down the river road, joined by Lord Baratheon and Lord Arryn and Lord Tully. We chanced upon their host before their outriders chased us off. It's a great host of tens of thousands. Ranks upon ranks of pikemen and men-at-arms, both mounted and dismounted. A score of knights and noble lords lead them flying their banners, the direwolf chief amongst them. If our intuitions are true, they are trying to cut us off from Lord Connington and any reinforcements from King's Landing."

As he told his tale, Aegon thought about the message the Hand of the King had sent him, the reports of an army coming down south to face him. He wondered if there was any truth in that or if Lord Jon had fallen for the same ruse like he had. It doesn't matter anyway. Even if there was no army to face Lord Jon, the way to Riverrun would be open for him. All Aegon had to do was defeat the Dragonslayer and his allies here.

"When do you expect they will reach the river?" Lord Darry asked his younger brother.

"A hour or two from now," Ser Raymun shrugged. "Maybe less if the vanguard kept their pace when they were chasing."

A sudden stillness surrounded the tent, before being rendered by a dozen voices speaking at once. Ser Raymun's announcement had sparked an uproar. Lord Goodbrook was cursing, Lord Celtigar was muttering darkly and a dozen knights and lordlings were swearing vengeance.

"Your grace, we should pull back our men from the other side of the river," said Lord Monford Velaryon. "They would be cut down to pieces against the river. It's better we hold the river from the eastern bank, using the river to our advantage."

That was what Aegon had planned as well. He had only left those men there to throw back any scouts who might come to look upon his camp. Now that he knew there was an army on its way he had no intentions of leaving those men where they will be cut off from his army and killed. He will hold the river from the eastern bank, preventing Andrew Stark from fording the river. The King in the North will have a hard time bringing his men across the river to fight, all the while his own men could cut them to pieces as they are still wading across the water. Even if Andrew was not reckless enough to attempt a crossing, Aegon could mount his dragon and lay waste to the front lines until his own army could get past the river and surround them there.

"Your Grace." Ser Barristan went to one knee. "We are yours to command. What would you have us do?"

"Get those men to withdraw across the Trident," Aegon said. "Send word to Ser Myles and Ser Jon. We should prepare for battle. Leave and get ready for battle."

The others bowed and went. Aegon got into his armour with the help of his squire. When he was done he stepped outside. His commanders had already placed the men in their lines along the Trident. Aegon walked over together front flanked by Ser Barristan and his squire, Rhaegal crawling restlessly behind the camp. They waited and waited and waited for the enemy to show up and do their duty.

The sound of hurrying footsteps told him that the time had come. A sentry posted on the wooden watchtowers he'd ordered his men to place along the banks of the Trident dashed panting into the room and knelt. "Your Grace. . . Starks . . . across the river."

"How many did you see?"

"No less than a hundred. A column of armored men at the front," he reported. "Across the Trident. They are flying a a giant below the direwolf of Stark."

Umber, Aegon knew. He had once met Lord Umber during one of his visits North to meet his brother in Winterfell. The man's castle had been cold and his bearing colder.

"Prepare for battle," Aegon shouted. The cry was taken across the across by a dozen voices of noble Lords and knights in command.

The Starks rode out of the northwest beneath a blaze of banners, Aegon saw from across the river. It was hard to make out the devices their banners bore, but the torches gave him enough light to guess their strength. A few outriders, no more, he surmised. The main strength of Andrew Stark's host has not yet arrived.

West of the Trident in then lands south of the Red Fork the lands stretched away open and flat. From his elevated position on the eastern back and the watchtowers his men could see for miles. Even so, only the nearest ford was visible for Aegon in the night. He had entrusted Ser Myles Mooton with the defense of the closest ford north of his position, as well as that of three others farther downriver. Ser Jonothor held the ones upriver to the south. Aegon wondered if any attack might have chanced upon them. He would not be surprised if the Dragonslayer decided to cross the river at one of the positions, not risking to face Rhaegal in battle while crossing. He saw no torches or fighting on this side of the river though.

The Stark riders were milling about uncertainly near the water, white and red banners flapping in the wind.

Aegon watched the riders spread out in a long line. He was waiting for them though, to receive them with arrowfire from the eastern bank. He waited until they came close. A trumpet blast sent the horsemen forward at a ponderous walk, splashing down into the current. For a moment they made a brave show, all bright armor and streaming banners, the torchlight flashing off the points of their lances.

"Now," Aegon shouted.

"Loose!" The command was echoed in resounding boom.

The archers let loose a flight of arrows in the dark. The screams of the horses and men could be heard over everything else as the arrows found their marks on men and mounts alike. Those who made it across were soon met with the steel of his own men. The clash of steel on steel could be heard all along the banks. A man-at-arms holding the banner of House Glover vanished suddenly underwater with his standard as he was crossing the river, swept under by the current. Soon after that more dead men started drifting along the river, borne along by the current. By then the Starks had pulled back in confusion. He watched as they re-formed, conferred briefly, and galloped back the way they had come.

A loud cheer went up from his camp. Aegon was the only one who did not participate in the celebrations. "Hold strong," he screamed. "This fight is just begun. The Starks will come again."

And he was confident that he could throw them back once again. From the elevated positions his bowmen had a better view of the battlefield and range, waiting to scatter any enemy with a swarm of arrow fire. Should any breach occur, Aegon had his best knights, ready to ride wherever they are most sorely needed. Should the situation turn dire still he had Rhaegal. He hoped that it wouldn't come to that and that the river will hold them.

They came again like he thought. This time with more men than the last. The Starks tried to ford the river just like the last time. Aegon stood silent in his dark armour watching the moonlit river to where the battle raged. He had built watchfires all along the bank, so that his archers could have a look at their targets. The river took some for its part as well. As they waded in to breast their way across, men stepped in hidden pools and went down splashing, while others stumbled over stones or gashed their feet on the hidden caltrops.

Another victory, Aegon thought when the fighting had ended and the surviving foemen had melted back into the night. As they waited for the next attack, a rider with the blazon of wavy green, white and yellow on his breast arrived with a message from Ser Myles, telling of another skirmish and another victory at his own position. Lord Rickard Karstark had tried to force a crossing at a different ford to the north. But it yielded no different result there as well, as Ser Myles and his men threw them back. He was also told of fighting farther upstream, where Ser Jon Darry held the fords. Those thrusts too were turned aside as well, the rider said, and at grievous cost to their foes at that. Aegon knew that it was only a feint and that the main attack was yet to come. Ser Barristan agreed with him as well. "Lord Andrew is simply feeling for a weak point, your grace, to chance an undefended crossing. If he does not find one, he will curl all his fingers into a fist and try and make one."

Not long after, came another attack. This time the Starks shortened their lances and advanced across the river behind on foot, but his bowmen had rained high arcing shots down over their shields, while the catapults Aegon had mounted on the riverbank sent heavy stones crashing through to break up the formation.

It was near to the hour of the wolf when the hammer blow that Ser Barristan had foretold fell. Aegon had kept his men on ready through the night and he had spent the night standing with them to show that he was no different from them.

The vanguard of Andrew Stark tried to force a crossing at a dozen different fords, but his men from all three camps threw every thrust back. The battle turned the fiercest when at last the vanguard of the forces had gathered together and assaulted Aegon's position. His archers felled many of the northmen and their horses. But most of the warriors under Umber and the southron knights with him had gained the eastern bank. Aegon gave the command of his army to Ser Barristan. "Make them pay for every inch they gain here," he told the Kingsguard. Ser Barristan nodded and muttered a command to the lords around him. Aegon put on his helmet and walked to the rear of the camp. The time had come. The Starks had entered into the trap. Fierce fighting had ensued all along the river and the camp. Half the tents in his camp were burning and the air was filled with the sounds of men killing and dying.

Outside Rhaegal was waiting for him. The dragon lowered his neck allowing Aegon to mount him. By now most of the northmen and their allies were across the river. And that was when Aegon loosed his dragon. An ear splitting roar of Rhaegal split through the night sky, almost shaking the very earth. When he took the dragon to air, even the most seasoned of the destriers fled in terror, the knights with them. Those who were brave enough to continue fighting were bathed in the green flames of Rhaegal.

He wheeled the dragon around and brought him for another pass at those men who were fleeing back across the river. Rhaegal let out a long lance of jade flame and set the entire river on fire. The low clouds caught the colour of the burning river and roofed the sky in shades of shifting green, eerily beautiful. A terrible beauty. Aegon wondered if Aegon the Conqueror had felt like this as he flew above his Field of Fire.

With victory so close at grasp Ser Barristan led his best knights against the rebels in a marvelous charge, his pale armour shining in the night and his white cloak billowing behind him. What was remained of Andrew Stark's vanguard was shattered against the river by Ser Barristan's charge and the survivors luck enough to escape sword and dragonfire reeled away bloody and beaten.

He had kept his word and done his duty. No one had crossed the river and Aegon had bled them for their trouble. If only Andrew Stark had been here this night, he would have ended the war with this battle. The prince would wait though. He knew that the Dragonslayer was coming and he would wait.