Trials and Tribulations of the Oathkeeper

Chapter 164: Battle of King's Landing (Part 6)

King's Landing — Iron Gate...

Olyvar and Brienne had already turned to confront the charging Unsullied infantry and Dothraki cavalry; the other half of the remaining royal army remained outside the gates of King's Landing whilst the others proceeded inwards to liberate the capital city from the grips of Euron Greyjoy and Jon Connington. When they both saw enemy forces quickly encroaching on their location, they knew for certain that it was only a matter of time before Daenerys and Drogon entered the fray. Even with the advantage of superior numbers and strategy, the dragon itself posed a major problem.

"Surround the enemy," Brienne commanded. "The fate of all Westeros depends on this one battle! We will defeat the Dragon Queen, and save this world! Hurry, before that dragon of hers overwhelms of our position!"

This battle has us treading in very dangerous waters. If we are to defeat Daenerys Targaryen's army, it's essential that we end this war here and now. This time, we will fight fire with fire, Olyvar thought. "Stand your ground until their offensive subsides!"

Behind them, the bells start swaying from side-to-side, ringing loudly as another chimed in and another still like a chorus across King's Landing. As the bells chime, thousands of Unsullied and Dothraki charge forward at the royalist lines, closing within twenty yards before colliding against each other.

Ornate leather meets plate, chainmail and lamellar. The royal vanguard grits its teeth against the Unsullied and Dothraki onslaught; the front row of elite Unsullied phalanx snaps into a perfect wall of a hybrid combination of a shield wall for defense and thrusting spears for offense. Beneath their iron spiked helmets, eyes locked forward towards their enemy, never breaking formation as their wall of shields push against the enemy's own shields. Boots slide, plowing the earth as royalist feet are forced back.

"Dovaogēdys! (Unsullied!)" Grey Worm commanded.

"HAAAWOOO!" they cried.

Dothraki bloodriders strafe through the frontlines and were quick to engage the knights of the Vale in open battle. Under the command of Yohn Royce, the Vale cavalry forces—consisting of men from houses Royce of Runestone, Waynwood, Hunter, Redfort, Belmore and Templeton—rode out to engage the foreign savages and take the pressure off their allies. An Unsullied spear draws the first blood, grazing across the shoulder of an aged grizzled veteran. He cries out in anger, breathing hate into the Westerosi will. Olyvar and Brienne strain as they and their troops finally slow the tide of ornate leather and shields, establishing a firm foothold that stops their backwards movements and all at once thousands of a combined royalist-militia lower their bodies, pushes forward en mass to encircle the Unsullied.

Olyvar thrusts his sword forwards and pierces through the ornate leather of one Unsullied, Mele Kasta, puncturing his lungs with such power that the air escapes the chest wounds. One Unsullied lands a solid jab on a militiaman, cutting into throats, the cries of pain muffled as they fall. Cries of men echo throughout the outer gates, foreign tongues of High Valyrian and Dothraki, groans and screams drift out and fall back. Jaehaegon, wielding House Velaryon's ancestral rapier,

"Gaomagon bē se memēbagon! (Keep up the pressure!)" Jaehaegon led on. "Gīda... naejot se paktot! (Clear... to the right!)"

"HAAAWOOO!"

Both sides step and thrust, hack and slash, killing all in their path before them. Dothraki riders whoop and rode, swinging their curved arakhs through infantry ranks without breaking stride. Indeed, the nomads' weaponry were better designed to be effective and necessary for warriors on horseback. But the Vale cavalry, armed with double-edged swords and lances, were able to gallop quickly enough to counter the Dothraki horde with their weapons' superior range. Dothraki, however, were just as resilient and unorthodox in their attack methods, often shifting their bodies sideways to cut out the legs of the Vale's horses from under them.