The King of Winters

Chapter 73

Argella

Her father's host split at the Rainwood by the light of a golden dawn, uncoiling from behind the log palisades they had set up to guard their camps at night like a long, steel serpent emerging from its nest.

Her father's knights rode out in plate and mail, dinted and scarred by the battles they had fought, but still bright enough to glitter when they caught the rising sun. Faded and stained, sodden with wet, their banners and surcoats still made a riot of colors amidst the Rainwood-azure and orange, red and green, purple and blue and gold, glimmering amongst green moss covered trunks, grey-green pines and sentinels, the fallen autumn leaves. Each knight had his squires, servants, and men-at-arms. Behind them came armorers, cooks, grooms; ranks of spearmen, axemen, archers; grizzled veterans of a hundred battles and green boys off to fight their first. Before them marched the great Lords of the Stormlands; lords and champions astride armoured destriers, their valiant fighters trotting beside them, clad in shining armours and boiled leather and old mail. Back of the main column the baggage train followed: smaller than the one which stayed with the camp under the command of her uncle. Her father had brought only a little of provisions to hasten up his march. The great part of the mules, horses, oxen, a mile of wayns and carts laden with food, fodder, tents, and other provisions were left with uncle Stannis who led the largest part of the army. Lastly came the rear guard-more knights in plate and mail, with a screening of outriders following half-hidden to make certain no foe could steal up on them unawares.

The huge host of the Stormlanders split into three. Her father led the huge part of the cavalry with the mounted knights off to the west to the Howling Hill. The bulk of the army, with five thousand cavalry and four times as much infantry was led by her uncle Stannis. Uncle Renly rode North with Lords Fell, Errol and Buckler and they were riding forth  straight for the reach army who would fight them soon. Her father had given them command to harass the reachmen and to subtly push them towards the Howling Hill where the Baratheon brothers had planned to meet them in battle. All three contingents of the army held a great duty on their shoulders and her father had made the risky gamble of splitting his host into three seperate parties to meet the huge host of the Reach which outnumbered his massed army.

Argella Baratheon rode in the host led by her father, dressed in her black armoured leather jerkin, black pants attached with knee and shin guards and finished the attire with fine black boots. She topped off the Baratheon black that day and it fit well with her dark hair which she had styled in a simple braid over one shoulder.

Her mother had been so against her marching for battle but Argella had no choice but to go and help her father with her knowledge about underground caverns she'd found. Joffrey had been chosen first to lead the way but then her brother had spoiled everything by hiding behind mother and muttering stupidly that he had somehow forgotten the way. Not that Argella minded marching with the army, rather she loved it very much and she had always wanted to do that. For that she ought to thank her brother over everyone. If it was not for Joff, she would have been forced to stay back with mother in the camp.

Trumpets saw the column on its way. Spearpoints shone in the light of the rising sun, and all along the verges the grass glistened with the morning dew. Between their camp and the Howling Hill lay some twenty leagues of forest. Her uncle Stannis would march straight for the southern hill to meet the reachmen. "Three days," the knights told each other.

It would not be the same for Ella and the host she was supposed to lead.

"Tarly will not fight on our terms," Uncle Stannis had advised her father the night the battle plans were drawn in her father's pavilion. Her father had once suffered a minor defeat at the hands of Randyll Tarly at Ashford before she had born. "He will not come deep into the woods knowing that we'll know the woods better than his own men."