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Chapter 16 Part 3
=Sith=
292 AC
Meereen
Viserys threw a fourth improvised projectile at Meereen's walls before taking a few moments to examine his handiwork. He had to admit that the wildfire lived up to its infamous reputation and then some. The explosions were spectacular. That alone meant Viserys had effective artillery in his grasp to play with. The only issue there would be finding a way to make handling the substance safer, even if it came at the cost of potency. That would be a trade-off he would gladly accept.
Besides, melting fortifications like candles, instead of merely burning the people manning them, wasn't necessarily a desirable outcome. The Sith critically observed the burning wildfire, paying close attention to boiling bricks and stone turning into an odd slurry-like substance instead of something resembling magma. By the time he dealt with all the traps, the southern wall would be useless. His people would need to tear it down to the foundations and rebuild it so an enemy couldn't just waltz into the city.
Viserys eyes drank in the sight of ravenous green fires. There was something surprisingly alluring in watching the fortifications burn. The sight stirred something within the Sith's blood, warming it up and making him feel remarkably content.
"Visy, this is incredible! The fires are magnificent!" Dany gushed.
It shouldn't have been surprising that his little sister was a fledgling pyromaniac.
Viserys looked at his sister, who sat astride a tough, fast horse beside him. Her open-faced helmet gave him an unrestricted view of her eyes, which glowed with reflected fire very much unlike a Sith's.
Daenerys wasn't feeling content watching the city burn. If anything, she was giddy, as if Viserys had just given her free rein over a table covered with her favorite desserts. She raised a hand towards the fires and made a grasping motion as if trying to capture them in the palm of her hand. Viserys raised an eyebrow at that, looking between Dany and the burning walls. Whatever she was doing, she wasn't using the Force. Was this mere youthful curiosity or something more, he wondered.
Viserys looked at the burning wildfire and focused on it, trying to sense it through the Force. There was something right there; it wasn't the mere energy of ordinary flames. Whatever it was, it didn't feel like anything produced by or saturated with the Force would. Viserys pocked the odd energies with his power, receiving bizarre feedback. It was like trying to touch a solid curtain wall, more like an energy shield than an inferno or an energetic chemical reaction.
The wildfire might just turn out to be more dangerous than Viserys estimated. Dealing with it from a safe distance would be most prudent until he had the time and space to experiment with the substance without interruptions.
"These fires are fascinating," Viserys allowed. "They're nothing like ordinary flames."
That statement and Dany's antics made the nearby Royal Guards somewhat uneasy. Viserys had to remind himself what their father used to be up to before Jamie Lannister gutted him. Now, he would have to waste time reassuring his people he wouldn't be burning them for fun when he or Dany got bored.
=Sith=
It was most fascinating watching mercenary Commanders sprout like mushrooms after rain; Boros mussed shortly after his Prince showed his hand. Celtigar regretted he couldn't happily watch what Viserys did to the wildfire traps. Instead, Boros carefully examined the Commanders who rapidly gathered at the front of the sellsword lines. Six of them had arrived already, accounting for the leadership of most companies Boros knew served Meereen before he left to serve his liege. At a glance, there were no new arrivals camping with the rest. Anyone else the Great Masters hired would be either in the city itself or in transit, making them of no consequence for the time being.
"My Prince has a simple offer," Boros didn't wait for all the Commanders to properly assemble and get unfortunate ideas. "Fair pay for service under the Dragons' banner, one-time payment to leave without engaging us, or…" Celtigar gestured at the burning walls just out of sight. "You can try your luck against the most powerful Valyrian Sorcerer the world has seen since before the Doom."
The offer obviously prickled the sellswords' pride, or at least business acumen, which was understandable. If they didn't fight here and now, no one would trust them once news of what happened spread. Boros knew it, Prince Viserys knew it, and the assembling Commanders were painfully aware of it.
Flashes of venomous green illuminated everything despite the rising sun. Unease rippled through the ranks when more explosions rocked the ground. It was a small wonder the horses didn't outright panic at the commotion.
"Celtigar, ya a fucking cunt," Commander Huzhoz spat. "Ya know, we can't just walk away."
An angry rumble passed through the assembled sellswords. They were in a shit position, and they knew it. Their Commanders murmured at each other and gesticulated wildly for a few moments. Truth be told, with a part of Meereen burning. Given the geography, their realistic options were less than Boros offered. They couldn't simply walk away. The only sane way out was through Meereen and boarding a ship to greener pastures. The only other option led through the Khyzai Pass into Lahzar. From there, the sellswords would have to brave either the Red Waste on a perilous journey to Qarth or the Dothraki Sea. None of the present sellsword companies had the supplies or a way to carry them for such a journey. Then there was the Dothraki.
Theoretically, they could cross the desert to the northwest, then hit the Valyrian road from the destroyed city of Bhorash to Mantarys or Tolos. That journey would be suicide even before taking into account that marching into either of those cities after breaking a contract would be unwise. It was known that after the Doom, that area was almost as hostile as the ruins of Old Valyria.
The sellswords would have to fight or allow Boros to buy them with all that entailed.
"Tomorrow, we might discuss your Prince's offer, Celtigar," Commander Huzhoz scowled after conferring with his peers. "Today, we fight," he nodded grimly and spat again. "Go, run to your master now."
Boros nodded in understanding. "You've all agreed them?" He had to ask anyway.
More scowls and hostile glares were all the answers he got. While it was a pity, that wasn't exactly a surprising turn of events. Boros shouted an order and guided his horse to ride past the sellswords and back towards friendly lines. The enemy Commanders rapidly dispersed, making it clear they would attack almost immediately.
Boros noted that the leading Unsullied were already busy deploying into multiple lines, creating a shield wall. Behind them, the First Legion divided into two smaller formations, moving to take a flanking position around the elite soldiers. The Second Legion marched to act as a reserve, followed by thousands upon thousands of Garrison Troops.
Without Prince Viserys and his sorcery, this would be a tough fight. The sellswords would do their best to stall the Unsullied while winning a clash for one of the flanks so their cavalry could run wild. That was the only sane way to deal with Unsullied unless you had enough veteran heavy infantry to overwhelm them in a straight fight.
While the Bloody Swords and the other infantry companies were quite good, they weren't the kind of heavy formation that could go toe-to-toe with Unsullied. In Essos, these were few and far between outside the Golden Company and Volantis' legions. However, the truth of the matter was that no commander worth their salt won against Unsullied by going toe-to-toe with them in open combat, so that was a moot point.
=Sith=
Chapter 16 Part 4
=Sith=
292 AC
Meereen
Most mercenaries massed on the right flank, surging into the plain away from the city walls. While that would leave their flank open, a dangerous thing if Viserys had a cavalry of his own to strike with, it also meant they couldn't be trapped against Meereen's burning fortifications. The sellsword cavalry, in particular, had more space to maneuver that way and could choose where and when to strike.
As the two hosts advanced, the numbers at the point of contact were about the same. Two Legions of five thousand each and a thousand Unsullied against about fourteen thousand mercenaries. In theory, that should have been as close to a fair fight as it gets. In practice, most of the enemy forces were veterans, while Viserys' own were green; months of training, up to a year or a bit more for some, was a far cry from a lifetime dedicated to war.
The rest of the army, Unsullied and others, could make a difference if the enemy didn't shatter the Targaryens' forward elements and cause a rout. Even without Viserys, his army was dedicated and motivated. It had the numbers to prevail. That was precisely why Viserys pointedly didn't strike at them with the Force when the enemy approached.
"Patience, sister," Viserys spoke just loud enough for Dany to hear him. They were behind the front, observing how the Second Legion moved to the right flank to bolster the lines there. The leading units of the Garrison Troops were unfolding into combat formations as well, preparing to receive a cavalry charge, though they remained nearly a league behind.
"Patience!?" Dany recoiled and twisted on her saddle to look at her brother in horror. Since Viserys began springing the wildfire traps, she has been on edge, enchanted by the flames, feeling increasingly restless.
"Patience. This is a priceless opportunity for our soldiers to gain combat experience. While we will intervene when the moment is right, we aren't going to win the battle by ourselves," Viserys patiently explained. "Observe and learn, Dany. One day, you might find yourself commanding an army. You might have to make the call between letting your soldiers gain experience instead of doing the heavy lifting for them. There will be battles in the future where we won't be present. Our soldiers must know they can win without our intervention. They need the experience and confidence to do it."
"I don't like it," Dany pouted and deflated.
Some days, it was hard to remember how young she was.
"Will some of them be willing to join us after the battle?" Viserys asked Celtigar.
"More than likely. The Lead Rain and Harpy's Claws won't," Boros reminded everyone.
These two sellsword companies were special. They weren't regular mercenaries, but this world's closest thing to private military contractors. They had wealthy patrons in Tolos and, until recently, Yunkai, and ultimately, that was where their allegiance lay. More often than not, said companies exclusively protected the interests of wealthy benefactors from these cities while avoiding working against the powers that be in their homes. The only surprise was that as far as Celtigar knew, there were just a handful of similar cases of mercenaries with government backing. Most Free Cities apparently didn't have such a close relationship with pet sellswords.
It was good that Viserys didn't need these two companies intact. What he wanted were the cavalry ones – the Crimson Lances and Wind Swords. He would have taken those two as training cadres in nothing else, even if their command staff allowed themselves to be bought before the battle.
Slingers and archers with curved bows ran in front of the advancing mercenaries massing on the right flank. Soon, lead bullets and arrows rained against Legionaries who huddled under thick wooden shields. They endured endless barrages while enemy infantry marched forth. Smaller mercenary formations moved in to pin down the Unsullied and left flank of the army. It was painfully clear that the intent was to shatter the right, then roll over the Unsullied flanks and rear before smashing the second section of the First Legion. The enemy cavalry would be key for rapid victory if deployed at the right moment.
The plan might work well before the Garrison Troops could deploy in force. While the Unsullied wouldn't break, the same wasn't necessarily true about the two green Legions. In that regard, the mass of heavy cavalry the enemy had would be key. While they might be unable to smash through a Legion braced for a charge, hitting the flank or rear of a fully engaged Legion could destroy it quickly.
There was no time for finesse, challenges, and taunts. The mercenaries advanced all across the front. Their grim determination was something worthy of respect. The same was true about Viserys' own troops. While many of his soldiers were scared, they believed in the cause, and more importantly, fanatical loyalty clung to them like a second set of armor.
Viserys heard Centurions and Sergeants cry orders, and a moment later, his men threw thousands of javelins at the advancing enemy. Those with shields fared rather well, which included the leading company marching against his Unsullied. That clash would be one of spear walls and shields, backed by a thousand men at arms from Boros' former company. The Bastard's Own infantry, reinforced by the Tolosi, flinched when struck by hundreds of javelins. Light shields splintered. Boiled leather and light chainmail proved insufficient to halt the javelins. People fell impaled and bleeding, and pained screams carried over the battlefield.
The Silver Spears fared much better, yet many found their shields splintered and weighted by javelins stuck into them. Their advance haltered, then stopped cold when a second and third wave of projectiles impacted their lines.
Instead of waiting for the enemy to recover, the Unsullied and Legionaries on the left flank rapidly advanced, eager to strike the enemy.
On the right, the enemy archers remained out of javelin range and shot Viserys' troops. That allowed the sellsword infantry to close the range largely unmolested until orders came through and javelins flew. This time around, the men fell on both sides, with lead bullets and arrows finding their marks when the legionaries threw their javelins.
The sellswords of the Harpy's Claw took the brunt of the punishment. Most of them had only light leather armor and bucklers for defense. Neither of those could pray to stop a weighted javelin. Before the mercenaries could slam into the legionaries, the sellsword forward lines nearly disintegrated.
Viserys had to give it to the bastards; they kept marching over the corpses of their comrades and screaming wretches impaled to the dusty ground. Behind them came the vastly better-equipped Desert Rangers. Their infantry wore a combination of tough leather, chainmail, and breastplates. Piked helmets protected their heads. A wall of heavy oval shields crowned by gleaming spears advanced with enviable discipline on the heels of the Harpies. Meanwhile, the enemy cavalry moved toward Viserys and the Royal Guard, who stood in the gap between his army's forward elements and the rapidly advancing Garrison Troops.
Walls of spearmen clashed, while the tattered remains of the Harpy's Claws fell upon First Legion like howling beast straight out of the Seven Hells.
Viserys guided his horse until he stood before the Royal Guard, and he smiled as he faced the advancing enemy cavalry.
At the same time, the enemy on the left flank recovered and counter-charged into the second half of the First Legion, determined to prove their mettle.
=Sith=
Sellsword companies working for Meereen:
Bloody Swords – 1000 men at arms
Crimson Lances – 500 heavy cavalry, 200 light;
Wind Riders – 300 light cavalry – scouts/raiders
Silver Spears – 1600 – spearmen and men at arms;
The Bastard's Own – 100 heavy horse, 2000 infantry;
Lead Rain – 400 Tolosi slingers, 1000 infantry;
Desert Rangers – 800 archers, 2000 infantry;
Harpy's Claws – 4000 swords – a combination of decent free Yunkish swordsmen and Meerenese pit-fighters;
11 600 infantry; 1200 missile troops; 600 heavy cavalry; 500 light cavalry;