Ormund did not wait for dawn.
The field outside Honeyholt had scarcely fallen quiet before the first warning reached me. Our men were still gathering the dead beneath torchlight, while wagons carried the wounded toward the castle in an unending procession.
Sunfyre’s corpse remained where he had struck the earth, his golden wings broken across the western field, and Aegon’s body had only recently been cut free from the ruined saddle. Soldiers who had fought since morning ate where they stood or slept against their shields because there had been neither time nor strength to rebuild the camp properly.
Ormund’s surviving host should have been in no better condition. His men had fought through the day, watched their king die, and retreated beneath the trees after a third of their companions scattered.
Yet shortly after midnight, a Dread Legion patrol reported organised movement near the south-western edge of the forest. Axes were working beneath the canopy. Wagons were being shifted, horses led by hand, and thousands of men were gathering along the timber road that bent south toward the Honeywine.
The Hightower host was attempting to break out.
Dick spread the campaign map across a scarred table in Honeyholt’s gatehouse while Black Rat, Grey Worm, Landrey, Jasper, and the senior Reach commanders gathered around it. The candles trembled whenever soldiers hurried through the corridor outside, throwing the forest tracks into restless shadow.
Landrey placed one gloved finger against the southern road. "The scouts believe Ormund is concentrating nearly everything he still commands along this route. The timber road remains narrow beneath the trees, but it crosses two miles of open farmland before reaching a three-way junction. Once he reaches that point, he can divide the host and force us to choose which column to pursue."
Dick had spent the evening counting prisoners, dead, missing men, captured wagons, and everything else that refused to remain a clean number after battle. He looked down at the map before answering. "Ormund may still have seven or eight thousand soldiers beneath the trees. The losses from the battle were severe, and nearly a third of those who survived fled during the retreat, but the men who remained with him were the most disciplined part of the host. If he concentrates them against one road post, the soldiers stationed there will not stop him alone."
That was the weakness in our cordon. Thirteen thousand men had been enough to close the principal roads and watch the known tracks, but not enough to form an unbroken wall around the entire forest. Ormund had spent more than a week studying our patrols. He knew where the lines were thinnest, and he understood that darkness would conceal the size of his movement until the head of the column was already beyond the trees.
Black Rat studied the southern approaches before speaking in High Valyrian. "The road must be reinforced before the main body reaches open ground. Once the host enters the farmland in good order, stopping it will require another full battle, and our front ranks have not recovered from the first."
I answered him in the same language. "You will take three thousand Unsullied and close the timber road north of the farms. Jasper will support you with the two Legion companies that suffered least during the battle. You are not to enter the forest, even if Ormund appears to abandon the road. He may be preparing a second movement elsewhere while drawing our strength south."
Jasper leaned over the table, studying the route Black Rat would need to follow. "My men can keep pace with the Unsullied, but they have been awake since before yesterday’s battle. If we meet Ormund in darkness, the lines will be difficult to control once the fighting begins."
"You are not advancing to seek battle," I told him. "Black Rat will form across the road and force Ormund to come through prepared ranks. Your companies will extend his position across the fields and prevent Hightower infantry from turning the flank. If Ormund withdraws, you hold the road rather than following him into the trees."
Landrey shifted his attention toward the junction. "The cavalry can reach the farmland faster than either infantry force. I can place riders across the three southern routes before Ormund’s vanguard arrives."
"You will take the surviving Legion cavalry and the most disciplined Reach riders, but you are not to meet Ormund’s centre head-on. Harass the front, strike any smaller bands that move beyond support, and slow the column until Black Rat closes behind it. If Hightower cavalry attempts to draw you toward the forest, you will refuse them."
Landrey accepted the order without protest. The pursuit after Aegon’s fall had shown him how quickly mounted men could outrun command when frightened enemies appeared before them.
Dick watched me for several moments before glancing toward the dark shape resting beyond Honeyholt’s northern wall. "You mean to mount Dravvaxx again?"
"I do."
"The dragonkeepers were clear that his wing requires several days without flight. The membrane was torn open twice, Sunfyre clawed the shoulder beneath it, and the landing after the battle nearly brought him down."
"They also said he could fly again if necessity outweighed the damage."
"They said that while hoping necessity possessed better judgement than you."
His tone remained dry, but the strain beneath it was unmistakable. Dick had known me long enough to understand that ordinary objections would not alter the decision, yet that did not make him willing to leave the danger unspoken.
"If Ormund reaches Oldtown," I said, "he places thousands of veterans behind one of the strongest cities in the realm. The harbour, the Honeywine, the city stores, and the walls would make a conventional siege ruinously expensive. If Aemond joins him with Vhagar, taking Oldtown without burning it may become impossible. I will not allow that because Dravvaxx and I are wounded."
Dick folded his arms. "The men beneath those trees have already lost a battle. Many watched Aegon die and remained with Ormund only because they saw no safer choice. Burning them during a retreat will not resemble the restraint you have spent weeks defending."
"This is not punishment for retreating. They remain an organised host attempting to reach a fortified city where they will continue the war. Ormund has been offered surrender repeatedly, including terms that spared his common soldiers. He rejected them, used Baela’s body as leverage, attacked Honeyholt, and now attempts to escape before his remaining men abandon him. I intend to close the road, not burn the forest around them."
Black Rat looked toward me across the candlelight and spoke in High Valyrian. "One pass may be enough if you strike the vanguard and block the route. If the dragon struggles to climb afterwards, you must withdraw. Do not turn a necessary attack into a hunt."
"I will strike the open road and no farther. Once the column turns back or Black Rat’s line closes around it, Dravvaxx and I will leave the sky."
Black Rat held my gaze. "You said something similar before fighting the golden dragon."
"I did not invite Sunfyre onto the field."
"No, but once he appeared, you treated survival as a secondary concern."
There was no accusation in the words, only a judgement made by a soldier who had watched commanders die because victory became more attractive than restraint. I could hardly deny the truth in it.
"This time the objective is limited," I said. "Stop the column, destroy any siege engines brought into the open, and return. If Dravvaxx cannot make a second pass safely, there will not be one."
Black Rat nodded once. He did not look convinced, but he had received an answer he could hold me to if I returned alive.
The commands moved through Honeyholt before the council ended. Unsullied companies formed outside the gate by torchlight, their shields and spears making less noise than most armies managed during sleep.
Jasper gathered two thousand Legion infantry from the freshest surviving companies. Landrey’s riders changed mounts where uninjured horses could be found and left the castle grounds in separate groups so their movement would not become a single obvious column.
The remainder of the army held its positions around Honeyholt and the known forest exits. Dick sent runners between every command with written confirmation of the orders. No company was to march because a horn sounded unclearly in the darkness, and no officer was permitted to pursue movement beneath the trees without direct instruction.
I left them to their work and went to Dravvaxx.
He rested upon the northern rise, surrounded by bloodied cloth, broken arrow shafts, and the tools the dragonkeepers had used on his wounds. The long tear in his right wing had been cleaned and reinforced with treated leather fixed between the thickest scales. The deeper injury beneath the shoulder had been packed with salve and bound as securely as any wound upon a dragon could be.
His silver eye opened when I approached.
Dravvaxx lifted his head, but the rest of him remained still. The exhaustion in that small movement struck me harder than Dick’s arguments. Only hours had passed since he destroyed Ormund’s ballistas, endured volleys of arrows, fought Sunfyre above the battlefield, and killed the golden dragon with his teeth around the throat. He had earned days of silence and rest.
I was about to ask him for fire again.
I placed both hands against the unburned scales along his jaw. "Ormund is moving for Oldtown. If his host reaches the city, this campaign becomes a siege that may kill more men than the battle did. We will not enter the forest, and I will not force you to fight another dragon. We only need to close the southern road."
Smoke escaped his nostrils and rolled across my dark armour.
"I know you are hurt. I know what I am asking, and I will not pretend it is a small thing. Give me enough to stop the column, and I will not ask you to take the sky again until the wing has healed."
There were no words through the bond between us, only weariness, pain, anger, and the familiar stubbornness that had carried Dravvaxx through every battle since I first climbed onto his back. His forelimbs shifted beneath him. Slowly, with a low rumble of protest, he rose.
The right wing remained partly folded until he forced it open. The leather reinforcement strained as the membrane stretched. Dravvaxx growled and held the wing extended despite the tremor passing through it.
The dragonkeepers approached reluctantly to examine the saddle and bindings. None repeated their objections. Their faces made those clear enough. I mounted with care, fastening the straps across thighs already bruised from the fight with Sunfyre. The burns around my forehead and cheek flared when I lowered the helm, but the discomfort was minor beside what Dravvaxx endured beneath me.
He launched into darkness.
The first beat of his wings barely carried us from the rise. The second raised us above Honeyholt’s wall, while the third sent a shudder through his whole body. He climbed gradually rather than with his usual violent power, taking broad turns that placed less strain upon the damaged wing.
Below us, small lines of torchlight marked Black Rat’s Unsullied marching toward the southern road. Landrey’s riders were almost invisible except when moonlight caught spearheads, armour, or the pale breath of horses crossing the fields.
The forest remained black.
For several moments, I saw no movement beneath the canopy. Then the southern edge began releasing men.
Ormund’s vanguard emerged without torches and with most of its banners furled. Moonlight found helmets, spearpoints, wagon fittings, and the occasional pale face turned toward the road ahead. Infantry marched at the centre in dense files, while mounted retainers guarded either side. Wounded men filled wagons behind them, followed by whatever supplies and draught animals had survived the battle.
The foremost companies had already reached the farmland.
They moved with remarkable order for soldiers who had spent the previous day fighting and the previous week starving beneath trees. Ormund had gathered those who still obeyed and placed his strongest men at the front. The few scouts and mounted sentries watching the road had been driven aside before our reinforcements could reach them.
His gamble had almost succeeded.
Another hour of silence would have allowed much of the host to cross the open ground before Dravvaxx could take flight. Once Ormund reached the junction, he could divide the army across three routes and force us to pursue several disciplined columns through darkness.
I kept Dravvaxx high and approached from the east rather than from Honeyholt. Ormund’s watchers would expect the dragon to come from the castle, and the broad turn allowed Dravvaxx to descend without forcing the injured wing through a sudden change of direction.
The vanguard stretched along the road below. Perhaps two thousand men had already left the trees, while thousands more pressed behind them beneath the canopy. The formation was too long to destroy in one pass, but I did not need to destroy the entire army. I needed to break the front and block the road before it reached the junction.
Dravvaxx tensed beneath me as he saw the moving column.
"We strike along the road," I said, leaning low against his neck. "The forest remains untouched. Once the fire ends, you climb and turn away."
He answered with a deep rumble. We descended. The first soldiers noticed us when Dravvaxx’s shadow crossed the moonlit field beside the road. Shouts moved through the column. Officers raised horns. Men began spilling into the farmland, though darkness prevented them from knowing which direction offered safety.
The vanguard widened in confusion. That gave the fire more room to work. Dravvaxx came from behind them, following the southward road so the fleeing soldiers remained ahead rather than beneath us. I waited until we were low enough for his flame to strike the packed companies instead of passing above them.
"Dracarys."
Purple-black fire tore through the night.
The first breath swept along the road and into the Hightower vanguard. Men disappeared within it. Wagons ignited almost immediately, their canvas and dry timber casting harsh light across the fields. Horses reared against harnesses, overturning carts and trampling soldiers who attempted to leave the road. Armour glowed within the flames before the bodies beneath it collapsed.
The darkness vanished beneath red and violet light.
Dravvaxx climbed as soon as the breath ended. Arrows followed from below, but the Hightower companies had not prepared a coordinated volley. Most shafts fell short or passed behind us. One struck the leather reinforcement across the injured wing and remained lodged there, causing Dravvaxx to falter before another wingbeat carried us above the smoke.
The southward movement stopped.
Soldiers at the front turned back toward the forest, colliding with the companies still emerging from the trees. Officers tried forcing men into the fields around the burning wagons, but the road itself had become a wall of flame, wreckage, and screaming horses. Those who had watched Sunfyre fall needed little encouragement to believe Dravvaxx would kill them next.
Several hundred Hightower men continued toward the junction in scattered groups.
Landrey’s cavalry reached them before they could reform. His riders did not offer the decisive charge Ormund might have expected. They attacked from distance, loosing arrows before withdrawing and returning from another angle. Each time the Hightower men stopped to raise shields, Black Rat’s infantry drew closer to the road behind them.
Near the forest edge, Ormund’s officers began restoring order around the bulk of the host. Mounted knights forced panicked men aside and opened a route through the western fields, attempting to lead the column around the burning road. If enough companies reached that path, the breakout could continue despite the losses among the vanguard.
I guided Dravvaxx into a second turn.
The injured wing shook halfway through the arc, and for one sickening moment we began losing height toward the burning fields. I loosened the reins and allowed him to complete a broad circle instead of demanding the speed I would normally have used. The membrane caught the air again, but his breathing had become rougher.
One more pass would be the limit.
The Hightower companies were gathering west of the road, using the light from the burning wagons to find their officers. I aimed ahead of them, intending to scorch the open ground and close the route without flying over the trees.
Archers loosed from below. Their shafts rose through the darkness in scattered groups. Two broke against Dravvaxx’s chest, while another pierced the trailing edge of his left wing without striking bone.
Then a heavier projectile passed beneath us. A scorpion bolt. Ormund had preserved another machine. The weapon stood in a wagon near the forest edge, partly concealed among infantry and angled toward our approach. Its crew had waited until Dravvaxx committed to the descent before revealing it. Men were already winding the arm back while others dragged a second bolt into position.
I changed course toward it.
The movement placed more strain upon Dravvaxx’s right wing than I wanted, but leaving the weapon intact would make retreat from the field as dangerous as the attack. The scorpion fired again before we reached it.
The bolt passed across Dravvaxx’s right side and tore through the leather reinforcement. The impact widened the old wound without striking the main bone, but pain folded the wing almost completely against his body. Dravvaxx screamed. We dropped toward the Hightower column.
Men beneath us scattered, abandoning weapons and throwing themselves into ditches. I pressed low against the saddle and resisted the urge to drag at the reins. Dravvaxx needed room to recover rather than another command fighting his balance.
The injured wing opened only a short distance above the ground. It did not lift us properly, but it flattened the fall into a hard glide directly toward the scorpion wagon. The crew saw us coming and abandoned the machine. Horses strained against the traces, unable to turn the heavy frame quickly enough.
Dravvaxx opened his jaws. His fire consumed the scorpion, wagon, horses, and every crewman who had remained too close. The breath continued into the companies gathering for the western push, breaking their formation before officers could lead them around the burning road.
Dravvaxx climbed with terrible effort. I felt the injured wing weakening beneath us. The membrane had not failed entirely, but the muscles around the shoulder had little strength left. Every beat became shallower, and our height increased by painful degrees.
Below, Black Rat arrived.
Three thousand Unsullied formed across the timber road north of the burning vanguard, cutting the open companies away from the forest exit. Jasper’s Legion infantry extended the line across the adjoining fields.
Ormund’s soldiers found dragonfire and burning wagons to the south, an advancing spear wall to the north, and Landrey’s cavalry striking any group that moved too far east or west. The breakout had become another trap.
Hightower horns ordered the companies back beneath the trees. Those nearest the forest obeyed, reversing their movement while mounted knights held Black Rat’s line at a distance. The men already caught in the farmland faced a harsher choice. Some attacked the Unsullied in the hope of forcing a path back. Others scattered into the fields. Many dropped their weapons and raised empty hands before either option killed them.
I did not order another pass. Dravvaxx had given everything I could ask of him. Forcing another descent would have risked bringing us down among the men below, and the road had already been closed. The infantry could finish the work without more dragonfire.
We remained at low height as the fighting separated into brief, violent struggles. Unsullied spears received the Hightower men attempting to break north. Legion infantry closed the gaps beside them. Landrey’s cavalry contained the scattered groups without chasing them beyond the farms.
The flames decided the southern road. Burning wagons, dead horses, and broken carts made organised movement impossible. Men still emerging from the forest saw the destruction ahead and stopped, compressing the column beneath the trees until Ormund had no choice but to pull them back.
His green tower banner appeared briefly near the edge of the canopy.
Ser Jon Roxton’s mounted men covered the withdrawal in a series of short charges, recovering several companies from the open fields before Black Rat’s lines closed fully. They could not save the vanguard. Hundreds were trapped beyond reach, while the remainder disappeared beneath the forest.
By the time the fighting ended, nearly a thousand Hightower soldiers lay dead across the timber road and surrounding farmland. Some had burned beneath Dravvaxx’s first pass. Others died around the scorpion wagon, beneath overturned carts, against the Unsullied spear line, or during the failed attempts to scatter past Landrey’s cavalry.
The exact number would wait for daylight. The meaning did not. Oldtown remained beyond Ormund’s reach.
Dravvaxx barely carried me back to Honeyholt. The flight was little more than a long glide broken by weak and painful wingbeats. The right wing could no longer support a controlled landing, forcing him to approach low across the fields. When he struck the earth, his weight fell unevenly. He stumbled onto one forelimb and dragged the damaged wing through the soil before coming to a stop near the northern rise.
I cut the saddle straps and climbed down before the dragonkeepers arrived.
Dravvaxx lifted his head at their approach, but exhaustion had stripped the threat from the motion. His breathing came in slow, uneven pulls. Blood darkened the ground beneath the torn wing, while smoke escaped his jaws whenever he exhaled.
I pressed my forehead against the scales near his cheek.
"You stopped them. The road remains closed, and I will not ask you to fly again until the wing has healed."
His silver eye closed.
Dick reached us shortly before sunrise with the first reports. He looked from the ruined leather around Dravvaxx’s wing to the burns across my face and seemed to decide that anger would achieve little after the danger had already passed.
"Black Rat holds the timber road, while Jasper has extended the line across the farms," he said. "Ormund withdrew his remaining companies into the forest. Landrey has prisoners gathered in three fields, and the burned wagons will block the southern route until we clear them."
"How many surrendered during the fighting?"
"Nearly four hundred have already laid down their weapons. More are approaching the road in small groups. Some are ordinary levies, though several wear Hightower colours and claim their companies have almost no food left. They believe Ormund has no other route to Oldtown."
As dawn spread across the forest canopy, men began emerging from beneath the trees.
The first group numbered eleven. They carried no shields and held their swords above their heads until an Unsullied officer ordered them to lay the weapons in the road. Another band followed soon after, supporting three wounded men between them. More appeared throughout the morning, sometimes in groups of twenty or thirty and sometimes alone.
They did not come beneath banners or under the command of knights. They came as soldiers whose loyalty had finally been exhausted. They had watched Aegon die, survived the battle outside Honeyholt, followed Ormund into the forest, and marched through the night only to see the road disappear beneath Dravvaxx’s fire.
Black Rat’s men disarmed them and sent them toward guarded fields near Honeyholt. Each prisoner was searched, given water, and questioned before being separated from known officers. Many expected execution. The confusion upon their faces when food arrived revealed what Ormund had told them might happen if they surrendered.
By midday, hundreds more had abandoned the forest.
Ormund did not come with them. Ser Jon Roxton did not carry a white banner onto the road. The disciplined heart of the Hightower host remained beneath the trees, but every failed escape weakened the command holding it together. Ormund could still order men to endure. He could no longer show them where that endurance led.
Honeyholt stood behind our army. Oldtown remained beyond his reach. Dravvaxx lay wounded beside the walls, while the southern fields burned with the remains of Ormund’s final gamble.
The Hightower lord was trapped, and now his own soldiers had begun surrendering without him.