The melee had to be held in a large field—almost thirty acres. The stands had been built on top of a mountain, although it was unlikely that the lords would be able to entertain themselves. According to the instructions, once about 100 men remained, the melee would end and resume the next day in a smaller space.
It was like a small-scale war. Large groups had been formed, each with about three hundred men. The most powerful lords had promised gold to those who fought alongside them. Jon Connington was leading one side, with men from the Stormlands and the Crownlands following him.
Edmure Tully led the men from the Riverlands. The Great Jon joined him at Brynden's request, as did another group of northerners.
And then there were the Tyrells. Loras and Garlan led a motley crew of men, most of them from the Reach, and they were the most numerous.
"You're the Hound, right?" the prince heard a red-haired man address Sandor Clegane.
The Hound, Sandor Clegane. He was the younger brother of Gregor Clegane, whom Jaehaerys killed. The man went and swore allegiance to his brother's killer. He was not a handsome man; he had a burn on his face, a gift from his older brother.
"What do you want, cunt?" The man did not address Lord Edmure Tully gently or respectfully, and Edmure's face fell as another man, with gray hair and black armor, laughed a little beside him.
"A thousand gold dragons if our group wins. There are ten of your group; you have little chance of winning on your own." The man, named Brynden Tully, was the uncle of Edmure and Catelyn Tully. He had a rather famous nickname: The Blackfish.
Sandor shrugged as he accepted. Jaehaerys had ordered him to join a group at the earliest opportunity.
"I almost thought you'd raise the price," said Blackfish. "We're discussing how to attack," said the man, dragging his nephew along. "The Griffin and the Roses are closer to each other than we are," he said, referring to Connington and the Tyrells. "With a little luck, they'll fight each other."
"And with bad luck, they'll join forces against us before fighting each other," said Jaehaerys. Blackfish looked at him, but his entire face and hair were hidden under his helmet; he had made sure his eyes were not visible.
"What is your name, boy?" asked the legendary warrior.
Jaehaerys remained silent, simply pointing to his red cloak. Brynden frowned and walked away. The prince shrugged. The old man might think he was a spy for the Tyrells or Connington. He didn't care, as long as he wasn't fighting 1,000 against 1, he was confident he would survive until the cut.
GreatJon looked at the prince suspiciously, probably recognizing him by his voice. But he said nothing; the North and Jaehaerys were allies at that moment, and there was no need for the man to make any blunder.
Jaehaerys waited. He had ten of his men with him, all of whom were not Unsullied. The Unsullied stood out like a sore thumb, so if he wanted to conceal his state of health, it was better not to bring them.
After what seemed like an eternity, the Blackfish finally revealed his strategy. In the distance, the armies of Tyrell and Connington had merged into one—an army of about 700 against Tully's 300 men. The prince was given a blue cloth, and the other men had one of the same tied around their arms. It was a way to identify allies from enemies on the battlefield.
"We'll wait for them to advance. They have the numbers, they will attack," said the Blackfish in a general's voice. "We have the advantage of position; they will have to climb. We will divide into three blocks, and Edmund and I will lead the center. Greatjon will lead the left block," at which the giant man raised his broadsword in the air with a shout. A handful of boisterous northerners cheered him. "Lyn Corbray will lead the right block," he said, with a hint of ill-concealed annoyance.
"Hound, you'll come with me," said the knight of the Vale. Sandor looked at Jaehaerys, who shrugged. The group approached the man.
Then they gave further instructions. The plan was simple: they would retreat up the mountain. The left flank, led by GreatJon, consisted of 80 cavalrymen. The rest —the center —was purely infantry, a decision that alarmed Jaehaerys. On the right flank were another 20 horsemen. They were mainly knights, knights no one would probably remember.
The men would retreat, giving the Tyrells and Jon a false sense of security. That could cause the Tyrell brothers to approach recklessly. If cracks appeared in their defense, GreatJon would lead a flank charge, seeking to break their ranks; otherwise, they would stick to the initial plan: retreat and wear them down.
According to Blackfish, the greatest threat was Jon Connington, after all, the man had already fought a war. The Tyrell brothers, despite their reputation as skilled warriors, had not experienced the horrors of the battlefield.
Jaehaerys held his sword as he mounted his horse, the brown horse with white speckles he had obtained from Garlan. His group was the only one with horses on the right flank.
Finally, the sound of a horn alerted everyone. The men in the distance began to approach. The composition of both armies was similar in terms of the proportion of men. The Tullys had about 100 horsemen and 200 infantry. There were no archers, as there was a high possibility of killing with a bow, and melee is supposed to be a non-lethal event.
Although it always ends in broken bones or a skull.
The Tyrell-Conningtons had about 230 horses and some 470 infantrymen. Their force was more than double that of the Tullys, and the battle seemed decided from the start. Jaehaerys wondered if they had agreed to divide the spoils or if they would tear each other apart after destroying the Tully army.
Jaehaerys didn't even know how they were going to divide the spoils. That is, after this battle, they would take 100 men —those who were left standing —and go on to a more traditional melee. How would they select them? If the Tyrell army wiped out the other armies, would they fight among themselves until there were 100 left? Would Garlan and Loras select the men?
'I just have to stay on my feet,' he told himself.
The enemy men charged, the horsemen ahead of the rest—a foolish move, at least initially. The forces focused on heading directly for the Tully banners, intent on taking down Edmund and the Blackfish.
'Cunning old man,' Jaehaerys thought. That would leave the Greatjon with a better opportunity to attack.
The enemy army stopped, at least part of it, with about half the horsemen slowing down. The rest continued to charge, ignoring orders.
'They lack discipline,' thought the prince. It was the first time these men had fought in this manner; they were probably looking for glory. Now, about 120 men on horseback continued riding, ignoring the orders of Connington and Tyrell to withdraw.
"Scatter!" shouted the Blackfish.
The men separated, leaving spaces between them before the cavalry arrived. These men were suspiciously disciplined. 'Tully guards?' thought the prince. The cavalry reached the center. They did not arrive simultaneously. The climb drained some horses' energy and strength, causing them to arrive at different times.
Scattering the men reduced the stampede's effectiveness. Tully's men attacked the mounted men.
The battle in the center developed favorably for Tully. The horses passed through the gaps the men had left. They lost their collective mass, leaving their flanks exposed. At that moment, being uphill, they were more vulnerable, and Blackfish's men took advantage of that to attack.
"Advance!" Greatjon began to charge the cavalry from the side. Jaehaerys looked into the distance; Connington's other men were advancing at a slow pace, waiting for the infantry. It would be best to concentrate the men against the men who had just arrived.
The northerners' charge struck the enemy horses, the men wielding swords on horseback, each blow frightening the enemy. Seeing a giant man wielding a sword as if it were a toy frightened both men and horses. The attack was a great advantage for the Tullys.
"Now we have to focus on the next wave."
Because of GreatJon's movement, the formation changed.
At first, there was the left flank, then the center, and finally the right. Now the left flank moved next to the right one. Leaving the arrangement from left to right as: center flank, left flank, right flank. The hillside prevented the GreatJon from easily returning to his position.
The men who charged at the beginning were already practically defeated. They fled with their pride and, perhaps, a broken bone or two.
Now the remaining men of Tyrell-Connington advanced slowly. They stopped at the foot of the hillside. They seemed in no hurry to advance. Their initial idea of attacking the center would be easier at that moment, since Brynden was now exposed on the left. But that also meant that if the enemies attacked directly there, the GreatJon's forces could easily flank them.
"And Lyn seems to have no intention of moving at all," thought the prince.
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Author: Dunno, never wrote a campal battle before.