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Viserys saw the warhorses neighing, and the Screamers surged forward like a roaring tide.
The Dothraki appeared together at the junction of the Valyrian Road and the Upper Rhoyne River.
Originally, the Valyrian Road served the commercial trade of the great Valyrian Empire, but now, the Valyrian Road had almost become the private domain of the dothraki horsemen.
Steeds galloped along the road, no longer possessing the smooth flow of past commerce.
Of the world's three major trade routes—the inland route, the Rhoyne River route, and the sea route—only the sea route remained somewhat normal.
The Sarnori of the interior had been mostly destroyed by the dothraki, and the Tenth City was ruined.
The rhoynar civilization of the Rhoyne River had been violently devastated; now, not only did the curse of the Sorrowful Lands remain, but it was also infested with river pirates.
"I will restart the two major trade routes and recast the glory of the past," Viserys thought, though everything would have to wait until after Drogo's forces were eliminated.
Tall and burly Screamers, their braids laden with iron rings, whistled as they swung their horsewhips, wearing their favorite painted leather vests.
It was a pity Sunfyre's size was a bit small; otherwise, Viserys felt he could melt the entire battlefield.
"Capture the White City!"
"Capture the White City!"
"For Khal Drogo, kill the tyroshi."
The Dothraki Screamers held their arakhs, and in a roar, a thousand scouts crossed the river together, as dark as a storm cloud.
Since the currents of the Upper Rhoyne River and The Little Rhoyne River were generally mild, the Dothraki often crossed the river here.
Khal Drogo's army followed the traditional Dothraki marching route, with little innovation.
It was simply that he was now the youngest and strongest Khal, with a massive following.
The dothraki usually sent out scouts first, followed by large-scale units and the tribal main camp; those wielding great axes were the final closers of the war, and even little girls came to the battlefield to scavenge arrows.
The Dothraki vanguard dispersed, and after seeing no ambushes on the west bank of the Rhoyne River, they turned back with confidence.
All the dothraki moved north together, heading up the Upper Rhoyne River. Their target was the White City atop the eastern hills—Viserysburg. Viserys gazed at the Screamers below, estimating their numbers at over thirty thousand; Khal Drogo had come in full force, intent on a complete sweep.
"Home, Sunfyre!" Viserys commanded, the dragon sharing a mental connection with him.
The dragon continued to climb, spiraling as it flew back to Viserysburg.
According to Viserys's observations, the dothraki and the mercenary companies should be advancing from two different directions.
The dothraki served as the main force, while the tyroshi and the mercenary companies acted as support.
The dothraki hadn't even prepared messengers; perhaps they believed a city destined for destruction required no mercy or communication.
Viserys flew back to Viserysburg, and Sunfyre landed him steadily on the ground.
Viserys dismounted from the dragon's back, where the armored knights were already waiting for him.
Aside from Count Roland and Hugo—Count Roland was the castellan of the city, and Hugo was the commander of the archers on the outer walls.
"Prepare to sound the alarm!" Viserys ordered. "Khal Drogo's army is approaching. They have already reached the junction of the Upper Rhoyne River and the ancient Valyrian Road, not far from us."
"As you command, Your Majesty."
"Now, court affairs are of the utmost importance, so I leave them to you. I need to be at the front lines," Viserys said to Syrio, Rhaenys, and Firefly.
These were responsibilities assigned previously, now merely being reaffirmed.
"Please rest assured, Your Majesty," Syrio said.
"I swear by my own blood to protect the True Dragon's family," Firefly said, thumping his chest.
"Be careful, Your Majesty," Rhaenys said with great concern, her black eyes as dark as onyx, her handsome face filled with worry.
Rhaenys had changed into a suit of leather armor with a red dragon pattern on a black background, looking nimble and energetic.
She had a great talent for combat and had received training from several masters: The Red Viper, Syrio, and Count Roland.
"Don't worry. In that leather armor, you truly look like a warrior woman," Viserys told Rhaenys.
"I wish you a great victory, Your Majesty," Daenerys said. Although it wasn't her time to take the field, seeing everyone so solemn, she understood the gravity of the war.
"The Warrior bless King Viserys; the King will obtain the prey he seeks," High Septon Umber shouted.
"The Rhoyne River shall also bless the King and the warriors!" The elders of the Council issued a loud call, the atmosphere like a fluttering banner.
"Your Majesty, the Golden Company has appeared on the west bank of the Upper Rhoyne River and has established a camp. They wish to meet with us."
With Illyrio acting as a middleman, the smooth communication between the Andalos and the Golden Company was surprisingly efficient.
Illyrio believed only he could have the last laugh, but Viserys also had a comprehensive plan.
Regardless, the arrival of such an army required a polite reception.
"Don't be afraid, little fellow. I'll be right back," Viserys stroked Sunfyre's snout.
This kind of soul-binding spell had a range, and Viserys's Fire Mage talent further enhanced this connection.
Though not extremely far, it was enough to cover the vicinity of the Andalos to call upon Sunfyre.
"Do you need us to set out together?" Argos asked, as a capable cavalry unit prepared to greet the Golden Company.
"That works. Before the main course arrives, let's go see our allies!"
"I leave the rest to you, Prince Oberyn."
"As you command, Your Majesty."
Viserys had put on his Holy Rhoynar Mithril set, with a black surcoat featuring a red dragon.
Viserys carried the valyrian steel greatsword "Dominator" slung across his back.
Leading Argos, Gaelin, Jarak, and Dick Crabb, Viserys and the capable cavalry galloped down the hill, through the city's west gate, across the lowered drawbridge, and then headed east.
As Viserys rode down the hills, the city's bells rang out loudly, signaling the impending war.
First, the bells of the royal castle, the White Keep, rang, followed by the alarm bells of the city at the foot of the hill.
Viserysburg acted like a wound-up machine, from the hilltop to the foot of the mountain, beginning to move according to orders.
Four massive trebuchets were ready, with boulders the size of heads beside them.
On the walls were rows of longbowmen, ballista crews, and crossbowmen; dark ballista muzzles appeared in the murder holes, like the eyes of the God of Death.
"Hurry!"
"Hurry!"
"Sharpshooter" Hugo issued orders; as the commander of the longbowmen, his responsibility was heavy.
Originally, the Andalos army was best at outnumbering the enemy, with regular troops wiping out small-scale guerrilla groups of bandits or dothraki raiders.
But now, they were to undergo a baptism of large-scale warfare measured in the tens of thousands.
Viserys saw the Golden Company's camp already established on the east bank of the river.
The mercenary company's golden banners fluttered high on poles around the camp.
The Golden Company's camp was by a small tributary, its layout orderly, well-organized, and impeccable—a military camp that even Viserys would praise.
As a premier mercenary company, the Golden Company disciplined its warriors like a proper army, with stricter discipline than other groups.
Deep trenches were dug around the camp, filled with sharpened wooden stakes; inside, tents were arranged in rows, leaving wide pathways.
Latrines were built by the water, so all waste was washed away by the current.
Horses were tied up together to the north, and beyond the hitching area, more than twenty elephants wandered by the water, using their trunks to forage in the aquatic grass.
Viserys looked at these grey behemoths; indeed, no warhorse could rival a creature like an elephant.
But Viserys had a dragon, which made all the difference.
Viserys saw the guarding sergeants become very nervous, and they hurried to inform the Captain-General in the camp.
Viserys reined in his horse and waited.
After a moment, the Golden Company's Captain-General, Myles Toyne, appeared outside the camp leading a group of high-ranking officers.
Captain-General Myles, and Harry the Paymaster—he was fat, with a large round head, pale grey eyes, and sparse hair he combed over to hide his baldness.
The captain of the archers, Hakeem of the Summer Isles, wore an exceptionally beautiful feather cloak of green and orange.
The pale-skinned Spymaster, Gorys Edoryen, had a leopard skin draped over one shoulder, and blood-red hair falling to his shoulders, the ends tied in many oiled braids, though his pointed beard was black.
The officers looked at Viserys; the scene was somewhat ironic—whether out of false pretense or genuine intent, they needed to fight a battle for the Red Dragon.
Seeing Viserys's magnificent armor and majestic greatsword, those officers had to admit he possessed a kingly air; this was the legendary prince, though unfortunately a descendant of the Red Dragon.
Viserys sized up Myles Toyne; Ser Myles had large ears, a crooked jaw, and the largest nose Viserys had ever seen.
It was hard to imagine such an ugly knight had a famously handsome ancestor, the elegant and dark knight Terrence Toyne.
It was said that Terrence's looks were not only praised by singers but also moved the heart of The Unworthy King's mistress.
"We have come to aid the Andalos, and for your promise, Your Majesty," Myles dismounted and gave a respectful bow.
He looked very sincere, but Viserys didn't know how much of it was real; after all, this man was one of the Griffin's best friends.
The secret pact between the Griffin, Varys, and Myles.
"Your Majesty, the Golden Company is standing by. May we enter the Andalos?" Myles asked.
"No need. For now, I only require archer reinforcements. Your focus will be on the tyroshi auxiliaries," Viserys said bluntly. "The tyroshi have called in several mercenary companies and even recruited scattered sellswords from the city."
"As you command!" Myles said, bowing.
"But the dothraki are more troublesome than you imagine, we..." Myles requested.
"We fight with our backs to the city. I have trebuchets and ballistae. There's no need to discuss extra men for now; first, I need some archers."
"As you command." Myles lowered his head gloomily; this wasn't how he expected the scenario to play out. He had thought Viserys would willingly absorb these ten thousand men.
There were too many unexpected things; this young man was very calculating and resourceful.
On the battlements of Viserysburg, Hugo looked at the enemy battle line ahead, which appeared like a cloud of smoke. He saw the flickering figures of the Screamers.
But the Dothraki did not attack first; instead, they drove some people to run forward.
They seemed to be some flat-faced, squat Lhazareen with exceptionally short black hair, along with some runaway slaves who hadn't made it to the city in time and chose to survive in the wild.
The Screamers raised their horsewhips, and these captives began to advance toward Viserysburg.
But the mounted warriors laughed loudly, then lashed their whips across the captives' bodies, over and over again.
The Screamers laughed as they beat the captives, whose flesh was stained red with wounds, leaving them no choice but to flee toward the White City in front of them.
Yet these captives could never reach the city; Screamers swung their whips to hook the captives' ankles, tripping them to the ground.
In the end, the captives could only manage to crawl. Finding it boring, the Screamers shot them through with arrows.
Hugo clenched his fists. This was a show of force; the dothraki were often extremely cruel to those they defeated...
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