Chapter 62 Chapter 62: Tyrion

The eye slits in his helmet restricted his vision, so Tyrion could only see straight ahead, but when he turned his head, he saw three warships leaning against the arena, and a large ship hurling kegs of pitch from a trebuchet on the shore. cover. Tyrion's men filed from the breach. "Wedge formation," he instructed.The commando formed the spearhead, and he served as the spearhead.Ser Mandon Moore was at his right, his white and enameled armor shining in the firelight, his dull eyes still unfocused.He dismounted Charcoal, and clad himself in white armor, with the pure white shield of the Kingsguard bound at his arm.And on the left, Tyrion was startled to see Podrick Payne following with sword in hand. "You are too young," he shouted immediately, "Go back!"

"I am your squire, my lord." Tyrion had no time to argue. "Then follow me, keep up!" Yu Bi kicked his horse and set off. Everyone rode very close together, knee to knee, following the high wall.Ser Mandon raised high Joffrey's banner, and the red and gold banners fluttered in the wind, and the stag danced with the lion.The team bypassed the base of the fort, and their speed gradually increased.Arrows shot out from the city, and stones whirled overhead, crashing blindly into the ground and the river, smashing steel and flesh.The King's Gate was just ahead, and the enemy swarmed up, pushing a huge battering ram of black oak with an iron head.The archers who got off the boat surrounded them, and as soon as someone showed up by the gate tower, they would immediately shoot their arrows. "Likes ready," Tyrion ordered, and began to sprint.

The ground was wet and slippery, half mud, half blood.His horse stumbled over a corpse, slipping hooves and churning up the mud, nearly sending him rolling off the saddle before he could charge into the enemy line, but he managed to keep his balance.The enemy army under the city gate turned around and hurriedly responded to the sudden onslaught.Tyrion raised his ax and cried, "Long live the King's Landing!" and the crowd echoed.Spearhead formations flew out, emitting a long scream of steel and silk, rolling horseshoes and sharp sword blades fused with fire. Ser Mandon leveled his lance at the last moment, thrust Joffrey's banner through the chest of a studded leather foe, and lifted the man off the ground before the barrel snapped.In front of Tyrion is a knight with a fox in a wreath on his tunic.His first thought was "Florent" and his second thought was "he doesn't have a helmet".So he used all his strength, coupled with the inertia of the horse, swung the ax and slashed at the opponent's face, splitting his head in two.The shock of the collision paralyzed his shoulder.If Xia Gar saw it, he would definitely laugh at me, he continued to move forward while thinking.

A spear slammed into his shield.Pod galloped around, slashing at every enemy that passed.He vaguely heard people cheering on the city wall.The battering ram has been forgotten in the mud, and those who surround it either flee or turn to fight.Tyrion rode down an archer, chopped off a spearman's arm from shoulder to armpit, and then scraped a blow across a swordfish helmet.Running to the battering ram, his big red horse stood up, but Sir Mandon's black horse leapt past him. The knight himself was like a death messenger wrapped in white robes. Wherever the sword touched, his hands were broken and his head was broken. Shield Shattered - Few enemies can cross the river with their shields intact, though.

Tyrion eventually urges his horse over the battering ram.The enemy army is fleeing.He looked left and right, but there was no sign of Podrick Payne.Suddenly, an arrow hit the upper armor with a "click", only an inch away from the gap between the eyes.He was taken aback and nearly fell off his horse.Not being able to stay put like a stake is like painting a target on a breastplate! He rode his horse through the scattered corpses.The lower reaches of the Blackwater River were filled with burning hulls of warships, and patches of wildfire still floated on the water, blazing green flames swirling up to a height of twenty feet.They scattered the battering-ram enemies, but there were fighting everywhere along the river bank.Baron Swann and Lancel's men fought hard as the enemy swarmed ashore from burning ships. "Go to the mud door!" he ordered.

Ser Mandon called, "Mudgate!" and they set off again. "Long live King's Landing!" His people shouted one after another on the way, and some shouted "Long live half man! Long live half man!" I don't know who taught them.Through the heavy padded helmets came the screams of pain, the thirsty crackling of flames, the trembling warhorns, and the loud brass trumpets.There is fire everywhere.Be merciful to the gods, no wonder the Hound was terrified.He is afraid of fire... A loud noise echoed on the Blackwater River, and a ship was firmly cut in two by a stone the size of a horse.Is this our army or the enemy army?There was so much smoke that it was impossible to tell.The wedge has been disorganized, and everyone is on his own.It's time for me to go back, he thought, as he rode on.

The tomahawk in his hand became heavier and heavier, and there were only a few people around, and the rest either died or fled.He tugged hard on the horse, forcing it to keep heading east.The big red horse disliked fire as much as Sandor Clegane did, but he was easy to handle.Many enemies crawled out of the river in a state of embarrassment, with burns and blood all over their bodies, choking on the water all the time, and most of them were about to die.He led his small team through them, giving those who could still stand a clean death.Before the war was confined to the crack of the eye, the knight twice his height would die if he did not run away.They became so small, so terrified. "Long live Lannister!" he cried, killing so much that his arms were red to the elbow, bloody in the light from the river.He reined in his horse and raised his battle-axe at the stars in the sky, only to hear the crowd shouting, "Long live the half-man! Long live the half-man!" Tyrion was drunk.

This is battle frenzy.James used to describe it often, but he never thought he would experience it himself.Time blurs, slows down, stops, past and future disappear, there is only this, this, this, this moment, and there is no fear, no thought, not even the body. "You don't feel the pain of your wounds, you don't feel the weight of your armor, you don't feel the sweat dripping into your eyes. In fact, you no longer feel, no longer think, no longer yourself, only fight, only opponent, a , the next one, and the next one. They are tired and scared, but you are alive and well. Even if death is around you, why are you afraid of their slow swords, dancing and singing, and laughing long and loudly." Battle frenzy.I'm just a half-human, intoxicated in killing, kill me if you have the ability!

They are really trying.Another spearman came running towards him.Tyrion sprinted in circles around the comer, chopping off his spearhead, then his hands and arms.An archer without a bow grabbed his arrow and stabbed it like a dagger, but was kicked in the thigh by the red horse, and fell on his back. Tyrion laughed.He rode a banner planted in the mud with Stannis' flaming heart on it, and he cut the flagpole in two with one blow of the axe.A knight appeared out of nowhere, raised his huge sword and slashed at his shield again and again, but was accidentally attacked by someone with a dagger and stabbed into his armpit.It should be his men who rescued him, but Tyrion didn't see it clearly.

"I surrender, ser," yelled another knight far down the river. "I surrender. Mr. Knight, I surrender to you. This is my promise, here, here." The man lay in the black puddle, and threw a lobster gauntlet, thinking of surrender.Tyrion was leaning over to pick it up, another can of wildfire exploded above his head, and the green flames scattered. Under the glare of the moment, he found that the pit was not black water, but blood, and there was a knight's hand in the glove.He throws it back. "Surrender," the other sobbed helplessly and hopelessly.Tyrion swerved off.

A soldier grabbed Tyrion's bridle with one hand and stabbed him in the face with a dagger in the other.He pushed aside the blade and slashed into the opponent's back with an axe.When he was pulling out the ax vigorously, he saw a flash of the white robe out of the corner of his eye. Tyrion turned his head quickly, thinking that Ser Mandon Moore had returned to his side, but unexpectedly it was another knight in white robe.Ser Balon Swann wore the same armor, but with his own sigil on the horse: black and white swans fighting each other.He looks more like a dirt knight than a white knight, Tyrion thought numbly.Ser Balon was covered in blood and blackened with smoke.He raised the mace and pointed it downstream, the head of the hammer was covered with brains and bone marrow, "Look, my lord." Tyrion turned his horse's head and looked down the Blackwater.Underneath the river was swift and dark, and above the river was bloody flames.The sky is red, orange and vivid green. "What?" He saw it as soon as he asked. Heavily armed soldiers filed down from a wrecked warship at the pier.Why are there so many?Where did it come from?Tyrion narrowed his eyes and followed them all the way to the river through the smoke and firelight.It turned out that there were 20 warships stuck together, maybe more, it was impossible to count them all.Their oars crossed each other, their hulls were entangled in ropes, their rams nailed each other, and the falling rigging formed a net.The small boat supported the wreckage of the big ship, and they were closely connected to each other, like a bridge across the sky. The enemy jumped from one deck to another, crossing the Blackwater River in a steady stream. Hundreds of Stannis Baratheon's daring men were crossing the "bridge," and even a foolish knight tried to come on horseback, desperately urging his terrified mount across gunwales and oars, through blood-soaked and green-fired sloped deck.I built them a damn bridge of blood!he thought dejectedly.Although some parts of the bridge were slowly sinking, others were burning, and the whole creaked and might fall apart at any moment, but it could not stop the enemy's progress. "They are brave men," he said to Ser Balon. "We will kill them." He led everyone through the flickering flames and blowing soot, passed the ruins by the river, and stepped onto the long stone pier.Ser Balon and his men followed closely behind.Ser Mandon joined them, his shield battered to pieces.Smoke and ash filled the air, and the enemy disintegrated under the charge and retreated towards the river.They scrambled into the river, knocking their companions into the water.At the head of the north bridge was a half-sunken enemy ship with the words "Dragonbane" painted on its prow, the keel of which had been scratched by the wreck Tyrion had placed between the docks.Before Ser Balon could dismount, a spearman bearing the crest of the red crab of House Celtigar thrust the point of a spear into the chest of his mount, throwing him from the saddle.Tyrion flashed by, slashed at the man's head, and then tried to rein in but was too late.His horse jumped off the dock, flew over the splintered side of the ship, and fell into knee-deep water with a neigh and a splash.The ax spun out of his hand, and Tyrion himself slammed hard on the wet deck. What happened next was even crazier.His horse neighed with terror, with a broken leg, and with difficulty he drew his dagger and slit the poor beast's throat.Fountains of blood drenched arms and chests.He stood up again and staggered toward the railing, the deck twisted and flooded.What follows is endless fighting.He killed a few, wounded a few, and some escaped, but the enemy was endless.He dropped the dagger, but grabbed a broken spear from nowhere, and stabbed it anyway, cursing shrilly.He chased after his opponents who fled in front of him, jumped over the railing to another boat, and then to the next.Balon Swann and Mandon Moore, clad in glorious white armor, followed like two white shadows.A group of Velaryon spearmen surrounded them, and they fought back to back with grace as a dance. Tyrion felt that he was much clumsy in killing people.He took advantage of the person's turn and stabbed him in the waist, used his height to grab the person's leg, and threw him into the river.Arrows whizzed overhead, or bounced off his armor, one of which lodged between the breastplate and his shoulder, without him noticing it.A naked man fell from the sky and fell to the deck with blood and flesh flying everywhere, like a watermelon falling from the top of a tower.Blood blurred the eye slits of Tyrion's helmet.Then a rain of stones fell, smashing through the deck, churning the meat, and finally the whole bridge trembled, his feet moved violently, and he fell to the ground. The river suddenly poured into the helmet.He tore it off quickly, making his way slowly along the sloping deck until the water was only neck deep.There were creaking sounds all around, like the wailing of a dying beast.These ships, he thought vaguely, these ships are falling apart.Wrecked warships are scattered, and the Blood Bridge is disintegrating.He had just recovered when he heard a loud "snap", like thunder, and the deck tilted under him, sliding him back into the water. The slope was so great that he had to pull on a broken rope with all his strength and crawl back inch by inch.Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of a ship that had been entangled with him before, drifting down, while slowly rotating, and the people on it jumped into the water.Some wore Stannis's flaming heart, others Joffrey's stag and lion, and men of other houses, it did not matter now.Both upstream and downstream became a sea of ​​flames.As far as the eye can see, the north is a melee killing field. A large cluster of indistinguishable bright flags are waving on the sea of ​​struggling people. As soon as the shield wall is formed, it collapses immediately. Countless knights on horses rush into the crowded crowd and pass through Dust and mud, blood and smoke; to the south, the Red Keep perched on a hilltop, throwing balls of fire.This is not right!For a moment Tyrion thought he was crazy, how had Stannis and the castle switched places?How did he cross the river to the north bank?It was only later that he realized that due to the turning of the deck, he himself had been turned around, so that the castle and the battlefield had switched directions.Field, what field, if Stannis had not crossed the river, against whom was his army fighting?Tyrion was too tired to make sense of it.His shoulder hurt so badly, he reached out to rub it, only then found the arrow, and then remembered the injury.I need to get off this ship quickly.There is only one wall of fire downstream, and once the ship disintegrates, he will be swept away by the current. In the hustle and bustle, he vaguely heard someone calling him.Tyrion tried to answer loudly, "Here! Here, I am here, come and save me!" But the voice was so small that he could hardly hear himself.He barely stood up from the sloping deck, struggling to reach the railing, but the hull suddenly bumped into another warship, shaking violently, almost throwing him into the water again.Where did his strength go?Be sure to hold on! "My lord, catch me! Lord Tyrion!" Across the widening black water, Ser Mandon Moore stood on the deck of the neighboring ship, holding out a hand.His white armor shone yellow and green, and his lobster gauntlets were sticky with blood.Tyrion didn't care about that, and reached for it, hating how short his arms were.It wasn't until the moment when his fingers touched in the air that he felt a little uneasy... Ser Mandon extended his left hand, why... Was it the thought that made him flinch?Or was it an instinctive reaction after seeing that sword?he does not know.It was too late to say it, and then it was too fast, the tip of the sword passed under his eyes, a cold touch, followed by severe pain.He turned his head away as if he had been slapped, and the cold water rushing to his face was a second and louder slap.He swung his arms wildly, looking for something to grab, knowing that once he sank, he would never come up again.He actually caught a broken oar, and he hugged it tightly like a reluctant lover, climbing up bit by bit.There was water in his eyes, blood in his mouth, and severe pain in his head.The gods give me strength to climb on deck... nothing but oars, water, and deck. Finally he rolled over and lay flat, exhausted and out of breath.The green and orange fireballs explode overhead, leaving streaks among the stars, so beautiful.The view lasted for a moment, then was blocked by Ser Mandon.The knight is a white iron ghost with dark eyes shining behind his helmet.Tyrion couldn't use his strength at all, so he could only be slaughtered like a rag doll.Ser Mandon put the point of his sword to his throat, and gripped the hilt with both hands. Suddenly the knight staggered to the left, breaking the railing and splintering the wood.With a scream and a splash, Ser Mandon Moore disappeared without a trace.The two ships collided again, with such force that the whole deck jumped up.Someone knelt beside him. "James?" he shouted hoarsely, almost choking on blood from his mouth.Who would come to save him except his brother? "Don't move, my lord, you are badly hurt." It was a child's voice, and it didn't make sense, Tyrion thought.It sounded like Pod.