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The Stormlands Campaign
Noise and sweat filled the air as flags fluttered in the wind.
Three thousand soldiers formed a massive square formation that shifted constantly with practiced precision.
The center was infantry armed with spears and swords, while javelin throwers and archers positioned themselves at the front.
Cavalry spread across both wings, five hundred strong on each side.
As Cole waved his banner, five trumpeters on each flank began to blow the first horn signal—short and rapid bursts cutting through the air.
Countless arrows and javelins launched skyward. The archers, serving as auxiliary troops, frantically emptied their quivers until the second horn sounded.
Two horn blasts in quick succession signaled the archers to discard their bows and fall back.
Shield bearers gathered the retreating archers into their ranks. Their massive rectangular shields formed an impenetrable wall, with twelve-foot iron spears protruding through the gaps.
One man held a shield while another wielded a spear. Behind them, light and heavy infantry advanced steadily, ready to charge at a moment's notice.
Three horn blasts sent the cavalry forward, dust and smoke billowing in their wake. From the high ground, the two cavalry units resembled sharp arrows loosed from a bow. In an instant, they broke away from the main formation, crossing paths before piercing the enemy's flanks.
A long, sustained horn blast gave the order to charge.
The shield wall dropped instantly. The central army roared as they surged forward, infantry rushing to attack.
The practice targets—scarecrows and wooden stakes—fell one by one.
After a brief chaos of simulated combat, the horn sounded again, calling for reformation.
Cole observed the soldiers as they returned to formation. They performed well in the drill, completing their tasks efficiently—but the enemy had been nothing more than haystacks and wooden posts.
They still needed the baptism of real battle. Only those who survived that would truly become qualified warriors.
"My lord, all formations executed without error this time," Davos reported.
They had been practicing the most fundamental battle formation: infantry as the main force, archers as support, and cavalry as the flanking element. Cole led the reserve team, ready to reinforce where needed.
This was the perfect moment to conquer the Stormlands. Not everyone had surrendered to King's Landing. Cole's ability to gather such a large army so quickly came from the many houses in the Stormlands supporting his cause.
After Cole defeated Highgarden, many rekindled their hopes. These families had suffered heavy losses at the Battle of Blackwater, their castles given to others by Joffrey. How could they accept such humiliation?
Cole had ordered them to gather at Summerhall. Now they had assembled a force over two thousand strong. With this show of military might, he sent a clear message to the nobles of the Stormlands: prepare for war.
Storm's End and Dragonstone alone couldn't sustain the logistics of a prolonged campaign. Even now, just three thousand soldiers placed tremendous strain on Storm's End's resources.
The military exercise had taken five days from preparation to execution. In the half-month since the destruction of the Arbor fleet, Cole had been actively recruiting and training new soldiers.
Five thousand men would be enough to stabilize the Stormlands—barring any unexpected complications or enemy reinforcements.
The Stormlands had suffered the most in the Battle of Blackwater.
Even their remaining forces had been transferred to the Riverlands to fight the Northerners, preventing them from returning to Storm's End.
The Stormlands' defenses were now weak. Even if they managed to gather an army, it would be little more than an undisciplined mob.
Ser Barristan was a man skilled in military tactics and training.
These formation drills were the product of combining knowledge from castle libraries with training methods from previous centuries.
He had witnessed Westeros military formations on the battlefield—formations that could only be described as chaotic.
Though they nominally maintained formation when first assembling, once battle commenced, all structure dissolved into confusion.
Soldiers could barely identify friend from foe, distinguishing others only by their armor.
Sometimes when battle began, they charged on horseback with no way to tell if the man dying on their blade was enemy or ally.
Heavy cavalry charges required substantial numbers to be effective. Infantry and light cavalry needed to clear the way, allowing armored cavalry to deliver their devastating charge.
Armored heavy cavalry became true killers only when allowed to build momentum.
Cavalry in this era had few counters; the conventional tactic was to defeat cavalry with cavalry.
Unfortunately, Cole commanded fewer than a hundred heavy cavalrymen—eighty-six, to be exact.
He had outfitted a thousand light cavalrymen, their horses all supplied by Highgarden.
Darkness fell as the drill concluded. Cole led his knights back to the castle.
Ser Beric Dondarrion of Blackhaven was among them. His family's sigil featured a forked purple lightning bolt with several flashing four-pointed stars on a black field. Lord Dondarrion was a handsome man, but his cousin Beric hadn't inherited the family's good looks. He was short with a pointed face, though his eyes remained bright and alert.
Lord Barristan Selmy of Harvest Hall rode nearby.
Lord Estermont of Greenstone, whom people called "Graybeard," was also present.
All these lords had gathered under Cole's banner.
Of course, there was also Ser Rolland Storm of Nightsong, bastard brother to Lord Bryce Caron. The Caron sigil showed a black nightingale on a yellow field. This Ser Storm believed deeply in the warrior's path and was as fierce as his reputation suggested. He had challenged Cole to combat upon first arriving at Storm's End.
Rolland had commanded the rear guard at the Battle of Blackwater, covering Stannis's retreat. Now Cole had assigned him to lead the two thousand fresh troops at Summerhall.
"My lord, this army will surely become an elite force," Lord Estermont remarked as he rode beside Cole. He was an old man, and leading troops personally clearly taxed him.
"It's merely practice," Cole replied. "Only a real battlefield can test an army's true strength."
Samwell directed servants and stable boys to receive them at the training grounds. Cole dismounted and handed his reins to his stable boy, Podrick, a simple and honest lad.
"Lord Cole," Samwell said, walking directly through the crowd to Cole's side.
Servants helped remove Cole's armor, and he raised his arms to allow them to untie the straps. "What is it?"
"A raven from King's Landing." Samwell handed him a letter.
The servants unfastened the buckles of his cloak first, then his armor, lifting it over his head.
"King's Landing?" Cole asked, wondering what Lord Tywin intended.
He had been outside the castle for five days, with messengers handling communications. Cole had delegated most matters to Samwell.
"What does it say?" Cole asked while removing his hand guards and bracers.
"It's an invitation, my lord. Tyrion Lannister requests your presence in King's Landing to attend his wedding as a friend."
Cole couldn't help but laugh. "Does Lannister think us fools?" Suddenly his expression hardened. "Who is Tyrion Lannister marrying?"
"Sansa Stark. The eldest daughter of Lord Eddard Stark, the Warden of the North."
Cole frowned. "This is not good news."
He gazed northward, wondering how Lord Eddard would respond to such tidings.