The Battle by the Lakeshore

Hey guys, it's Ser Manus here for the Reach's Roses, with a blog on the Battle by the Lakeshore, from the POVs of Lord Lefford, Robb Rivers, and Tyler Hill

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Lord Lefford realised he had made a grave mistake. He should have given up after the demise of his liege lord at the hands of Pate of Longleaf, but instead, he had continued the march, and was now on the shore on the Gods Eye, watching as a dozen ravens flew out, all carrying letters pleading for help.

He was an experienced commander, having fought several battles before, and he knew that the chance at victory was not very big.

But then, his morale dropped drastically, as he saw several dozen arrows flying through the sky, making the ravens fall into the water, colouring it with their crimson red blood.

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"Loose!" Robb Rivers shouted, as the archers behind him released their arrows, aiming at the black specks in the air above them. A smile appeared as every speck was felled, except for one, which managed to evade the arrows.

This time, Robb himself nocked an arrow, and drew back the string, aiming for the last raven. He released the arrow, and smirked confidently as he saw the bird being struck down by his arrow.

As he saw the raven hit the water, Robb turned back around, and started preparing for the battle that would take place the next morning.

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He stood on the shores of the Gods Eye, looking out over the peaceful waters, dreading the coming battle.

As he watched the water, he noticed something. Rays of sunlight, appearing on the horizon, which made Lord Lefford realise one thing.

Dawn had come.

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"Nock!"

Three hundred archers all pulled out arrows from their quivers, and nocked them with a military precision, waiting for the next order.

"Draw!"

Three hundred arrows were drawn back on their strings, with the archers holding their breath in anticipation for the word they all knew was coming, as they aimed for the Westermen.

"Loose!"

Three hundred strings were released, as arrows were launched into the air, only to embed themselves into flesh only seconds later.

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They were surrounded on all possible sides. There would be no winning this battle, he realised, before his face became set with determination, intending to take as many men as he could with him into the grave. He would make his last stand one that would be ed for centuries.

He fought valiantly against the Winter Wolves, whom had managed to break through the line of spearmen after five tries, before he fell to the blade of one of the Northerners, his old age betraying him.

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Robb smirked, as he shot another arrow at the Westermen, enjoying the rush it gave him. They had them surrounded, and the only way they could save themselves was to swim.

From their vantage point, Robb and his men could see the men at the rear of the army stripping out of their heavy armour, and taking a risk by wading further into the Gods Eye, hoping to escape to the Isle of Faces or perhaps even Harrenhal.

But none of those men ever made it to their intended destination, as the Bowman of Raventree took aim, and picked off the swimming Westermen one by one, and watched as their lifeless bodies floated in the Gods Eye, blood polluting the water around them, with several arrows stuck in them.

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Tyler was surrounded by blood, belonging of both blacks and greens, as he was slowly made to retreat backwards, into the water of the Gods Eye, having nowhere else to go.

The Bastard of Lannisport closed his eyes, as he felt himself getting tangled in the reeds, and realised that he would not survive.

He opened his mouth, and let out his last breath, as his lungs slowly filled with water.

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-Ser Manus

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#TalesOfTheKnight

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-Sources-

Cover picture