Even the most impregnable fortress requires defenders; otherwise, it is merely a difficult stretch of road.
Such was the case with Casterly Rock. Jon lured away the bulk of its garrison with false orders, then commanded a force of twenty thousand to launch a surprise assault, successfully capturing it.
As dawn broke on the horizon, Jon entered the city. Only sporadic resistance remained. With overwhelming numerical superiority and a relentless assault, combined with the fact that over half of Casterly Rock's defenders were poorly trained miners who had no compelling reason to fight to the death...
Under the flickering firelight, these emaciated miners looked like skeletons, prompting Jon to lament how Tywin truly treated men as less than human.
Given no preferential treatment in peacetime, they naturally felt no loyalty in war.
When Jon offered the condition that they could spare their lives by laying down their arms, these men, who had toiled their entire lives washing ore in the Gold Mines, dropped their weapons without hesitation, as if they were burning their hands.
When Jon found Daven, he was already tightly surrounded by Martin's heavy infantry. Back-to-back with his few remaining Soldiers, he stared in panic at the encircling enemy.
With their commander trapped in a hopeless situation, the outcome of this battle was no longer in doubt.
They were cornered against the moss-covered wall of a tower. The morning sun shone directly upon them, like the world's final act of pity.
"Go ask him if he's willing to surrender," Jon said, turning to his squire, Robb Frey.
Robb Frey, who had grown considerably more robust under Jon's tutelage, approached Daven and relayed Jon's message.
However, Daven merely sneered in Jon's direction and shouted loudly, "Jon, you... you are just like that Stannis, who seized the throne through schemes and plots! You had that Red Woman forge Lord Tywin's orders, you... you despicable bastard!!!"
Daven had already been struck by several arrows. Furthermore, having spent a long time comforting Lady Alyssane Lefford the previous night, he was now gasping for breath, clearly exhausted to the extreme.
Seeing this attitude, Jon had no desire to engage in verbal sparring.
After all, even Jaime could be taken prisoner, yet this fellow showed not the slightest inclination to surrender.
Just as Jon was about to order Daven shot down, a figure with white hair and beard ran out. It was Rickard.
"Jon, let me kill him!" Rickard declared, brandishing his broadsword as he strode towards Daven.
He still could not let go of the deaths of his two younger sons. Only more Lannister blood could quell this aged father's wrath.
"Jaime killed my two sons, so I must at least slay two Lannisters to appease my sons' spirits!" Rickard said in a low, gravelly voice. A gust of wind lifted his snow-white hair and beard. In the dim light of dusk, he truly resembled the 'Winter Sun' banner of House Karstark.
Jon saw no need to stop him. Instead, he ordered the Soldiers to quickly secure the area around Casterly Rock while he remained to watch Rickard, guarding against any unforeseen events.
After all, House Karstark had contributed a thousand men to his army. As Commander-in-Chief, he still had to give them that much Face.
Rickard's appearance ignited a fire in Daven's chest. Seeing the man who had killed his father right before him, he raised his sword and charged. The two burly men swung their blades at each other, the clashing of steel grating on everyone's ears.
Daven, being younger, unleashed a powerful spinning slash. Fortunately, Rickard's experience allowed him to block it in time. But Daven reacted faster, delivering a kick squarely to Rickard's stomach.
The distance between them widened significantly. A soldier rushed to support Rickard from behind as he stumbled, helping him steady himself, but earned only Rickard's furious rebuke: "Get away!"
Steadying himself, Rickard, now furious and humiliated, threw his helmet to the ground and launched another attack. Daven roared and met him head-on.
Watching the scene unfold, Jon, while no one was paying attention, turned and took a bow and arrow from an archer, ready to intervene at any moment.
Perhaps realizing his inevitable death, Daven's mind grew strangely calm. His martial skill even improved noticeably, allowing him to defend flawlessly against Rickard's onslaught.
Finally, Rickard's guard was breached again. His sword was violently knocked aside by Daven, who then slammed his shoulder into Rickard, sending the older man crashing to the ground. Nearing sixty, Rickard could not withstand the charge of a man in his prime, especially under the weight of his heavy armor. He found himself pinned, unable to rise.
Seizing his chance, a gleam of vengeful excitement flashed in Daven's eyes. He executed a horizontal slash aimed directly at Rickard's Face.
Rickard was simply too old. When he followed Robb south and pledged to him, he had thought this might be his final campaign.
Even if he returned alive, he would likely perish in the endless winter soon to descend upon the North.
Those nearby wanted to intervene, but it seemed too late. Daven swung his sword, but the blow went wide. An arrow had pierced his wrist at some point, its fletching still quivering slightly.
Before Daven could react, another arrow buried itself in his Face. His massive frame stiffened for a second, then toppled over backwards.
Jon walked to Rickard's side and extended a hand to help him up.
In the castle hall, Loras still could not believe that Jon had managed to make Daven withdraw the main army from Casterly Rock merely through 'acting'.
His entire worldview seemed profoundly shaken. He laid his sheathed sword across his knees, staring blankly at its ornate scabbard.
Beside him, Garlan was conversing with the Tyrell Family's maester attached to the army.
"...Casterly Rock's garrison was withdrawn... we..." Loras knew Garlan was preparing a 'battle report' for Highgarden, reporting on Jon's campaign. He couldn't quite make out the words, or perhaps he didn't want to.
It wasn't just him; others were equally puzzled by the success of Jon's stratagem.
Take Brynden, for instance, who had never held much hope for Jon. He now sat quietly, adjusting his vambrace. He had always thought Jon's plans too simplistic; now it seemed perhaps he himself had overcomplicated things.
*Hmph! Let's see how this bastard plans to take Casterly Rock!* Loras thought defiantly. Even if Daven was a fool, surely Tywin wouldn't be that stupid, right?
That was Tywin!
Recalling how Jon had refused his request to lead the assault earlier, Loras calmed down once more.
He remembered Jon's father, Eddard. When the Mountain ravaged the Riverlands, he had asked Eddard for permission to lead troops to capture him, and Eddard had refused.
Back then, he had been indignant. But Jon had proven himself with victory after victory, leaving Loras with nothing to say.
*Is it because I'm a Tyrell, so...*" Loras suddenly realized something, yet remained somewhat confused.
As the men sat lost in thought, each with their own concerns, Jon entered the hall. He was followed by his squire Robb Frey, along with Rickard, Martin, and others.
Upon entering, he walked naturally to the head seat and announced his next operational plan.
"My lords, we have fought well. We have taken Casterly Rock like a thunderbolt. Neither Sarsfield, behind Casterly Rock, nor Tywin, who is surely watching closely, has had time to react. Therefore, I intend to let the army rest for half a day, eat their fill, take provisions for five days, and by sunset tomorrow, march on Sarsfield. I aim to capture it with the utmost speed!" Jon addressed the assembly.
Brynden watched Jon intently, feeling this young man's ambition was immense, and somewhat terrifying.
Casterly Rock — Sarsfield — Casterly Rock.
Taking Casterly Rock was like stripping Casterly Rock of its armor. Taking Sarsfield would be like holding a dagger to Tywin's throat.
In Brynden's view, perhaps they should now use Casterly Rock as a base to seize territory. He still couldn't fathom how Jon intended to take Casterly Rock.
But the successful capture of Casterly Rock had softened his stance somewhat. He felt a flicker of anticipation to see what method Jon would employ.
Furthermore, while Sarsfield might not be difficult to take, a direct assault on Casterly Rock still seemed impossible.
Tywin undoubtedly still had a large army amassed in the southern Westerlands. The moment Jon reached Casterly Rock, that army would surely rush back to its defense.
Facing both the returning Westerlands forces and the potential for a sudden sally from Casterly Rock, a force of twenty thousand would be stretched thin. By any measure, a direct attack on Casterly Rock seemed unwise.
Unless Jon could swiftly crush those returning Westerlands armies.
Brynden felt it his duty to find an opportunity to remind Jon. Conquering a kingdom was not the same as capturing a single castle.
As soon as Jon finished outlining his plan, Loras stood and said, "Leave the attack on Sarsfield to me, may I?"
Looking at Jon's Face, Loras's tone held more inquiry and test than his usual capricious of doing as he pleased.
Jon considered Loras for a moment. Sarsfield was only a modest castle. With the advantage of surprise, capturing it shouldn't be overly difficult.
However, entrusting it solely to Loras still made him uneasy. He would need to assign someone to assist him.
In the end, Jon agreed to let Loras participate in the attack on Sarsfield, but did not grant him sole command.
"Ser Rickard."
Hearing Jon's voice, Rickard quickly stood up.
During his duel with Daven, he had nearly thought himself dead, only to be saved by Jon. Moreover, Jon's Archery was nothing short of miraculous.
Not only was Daven's slashing hand incredibly fast—difficult to track with the naked eye—but it was also nighttime. Yet Jon had accurately struck his hand, saving Rickard's life.
Sometimes Rickard felt it was all a dream. When he first met Jon, the boy was merely Robb's subordinate, forced to risk his life against Roose Bolton's making things difficult.
Now he had grown into a lord in his own right. It was truly astonishing.
It was precisely this potential he had seen that made him decide to hand over Karhold to his eldest son, Harrion, ahead of time. Harrion had fought alongside Jon, after all. If trouble arose in the future, Jon would likely intervene.
Even if he didn't send troops directly, Jon himself wielded considerable influence. While House Karstark might not Face immediate trouble in the North, with only one son left of three, Rickard wanted to plan ahead.
Rickard's initiative service was also to repay a debt of gratitude. Now, however, Jon's kindness seemed to be Interest on interest, growing to a point where it might become impossible to repay.
Ãdvåñçé çhàptêr àvàilàble óñ pàtreøn (Gk31)