Game of Thrones: I Am The Heir For A Day - Chapter 242: The End of the Road

In the Inner City

Hiding in a stone-built chamber, covering his mouth and nose with one hand, Amos cried out in panic, “Where is the Red Witch?”

“I’m not sure, my lord. She seems to be performing rituals in the Godswood Forest,” the knight replied, fear in his voice. “My lord, there are still many fires in the Ccity. We must flee quickly.”

The recent explosion was only from a few barrels outside. If the fire spread, the rising temperatures would ignite the forest fires stored inside the city. At that point, everyone would be burned alive.

Amos looked desperate, grasping at straws. “Yes! There are still sacrifices. The Lord of Light will bless me!”

Shouting, he pulled a token from his pocket. “Come with me, there are secret passages. We can escape through them!”

As a member of the Bracken clan, Amos knew of the numerous tunnels his ancestors had dug beneath Stone Hedge Castle for just such an emergency.

As he led his men down the stairs, the temperature rose, the air thick with the stench of burning wildfire.

“My lord, the wildfire is still in the cellar,” a soldier tending to the wildfire reported, rushing toward them.

Amos shoved him away and ran toward a secret side passageway, yelling, “Never mind that! I have to find the Red Witch first.”

He firmly believed that once the Red Witch’s ritual was complete, the Lord of Light would grant him the power to defeat the Targaryens and their dragon.

None of the remaining soldiers dared to handle the wildfire, so they followed Amos, fleeing through the secret passage.

Thousands of them moved noisily towards the escape route, a frantic procession.

In the cellar.

The cellar lay directly below them. As the soldiers’ footsteps increased, the stone walls of the cellar shook.

Click…

Tiny bits of dirt shook loose and fell onto the sand-covered floor. Wooden shelves lined both sides of the cellar, neatly stacked with barrels of wildfire, cushioned by sand.

Knock, knock…

The footsteps of the fleeing soldiers grew louder, causing the cellar walls to shake slightly. Normally, this kind of shaking wouldn’t be a problem. The barrels holding the wildfire were relatively stable, cushioned with fine sand to absorb vibrations.

However, half of the barrels were lined with coarse sand mixed with rocks and mud, creating an uneven cushion. As the shaking continued, the barrels bumped against the rocks and mud.

They were in danger of exploding.

Boom!

A barrel of wildfire suddenly exploded, setting off a chain reaction as the remaining barrels exploded. Green flames blossomed in unison, a deadly dance of destruction.

In the secret tunnel, separated by a mere wall, soldiers were still evacuating, packed tightly together. The explosion echoed.

Bang!

The tunnel erupted, wildfire spreading like a ravenous beast, consuming the entire passage.

“Ah… wildfire!”

“Don’t touch me, it’s burning!”

“My face…”

The narrow secret passage became an inferno, instantly engulfing hundreds of soldiers. Cries of despair and agony pierced the night.

Outside the Secret Passage

Amos, leading over 300 men, had already fled the inner city and huddled in a remote corner of the outer wall. They waited for more soldiers to appear, but a sudden heat wave swept through the passage.

Buzz!

A soldier halfway out was engulfed in the wildfire, his body lit like a human torch.

“Ah! Help me, help me…”

The flames consumed him and he fell back into the passage. The wildfire continued to rage, flames shooting over ten meters into the air. The searing heat wave knocked Amos and his men down.

“Run, run!”

Seeing the dire situation, Amos scrambled away from the exit, panic in his eyes.

Half an hour later

The wildfire’s fury began to subside, and soldiers slowly climbed to their feet. Amos turned back, witnessing the fall of the inner city. Wildfire burned from the inside out, green flames reaching tens of meters high, turning Stone Hedge Castle into a giant torch. In the night, it was a beacon of ruin.

“It’s over, there’s no going back.”

Amos stood frozen, murmuring in disbelief. The inner city had fallen, cutting off their retreat to the castle. They were trapped between the inner and outer cities.

“My lord, the only way out now is to break through,” the Knight suggested, holding Amos’s arm.

The Targaryen dragon was still circling in the night sky. Without an urgent escape plan, they would be reduced to ashes before dawn.

Amos gripped the token tightly, his knuckles white. “There’s an ambush by the Blackwood family in the outer city.”

“Better to fight and have a chance to escape,” the Bracken Knight urged, seeing no other option.

Amos closed his eyes, fear shaking him. “All right, let’s break out!”

“Lord Amos commands: open the gates and break through!”

The Bracken Knight’s cry echoed, rallying the remnants. They moved to open the city gates and lower the drawbridge.

…

Godswood Forest

The sacrificial wildfire gradually died out, leaving only ash and bone fragments on the ground. The Red Witch knelt before the remains, clasping her hands as she chanted, “Blessed be the Lord of Light…”

As she recited a series of fervent prayers, her youthful face began to age. In a few short breaths, she went from a vibrant woman in her twenties to an elderly crone, her face lined with deep wrinkles.

Unaware of the change, the Red Witch scooped up some of the ash and smeared it on her aged face, continuing to pray with intense devotion. The ashes spread evenly over her skin, covering her face and neck.

Then a miraculous transformation took place. The wrinkles disappeared, her skin became smooth, and she regained her youthful appearance, looking even younger than before, like a petite girl in her late teens.

“Haha, it worked,” she laughed sharply, feeling the change. “The fancy priest didn’t lie to me!”

Her laughter faded, replaced by a cautious look. “I have to get out of here.”

Having achieved her goal, she knew it was time to save herself. As for her lover, Amos Bracken, he was nothing more than a foolish tool. Once used, he could be discarded.

Rising to her feet, she lifted the hem of her red gown and ran toward the castle.

After some time, the Red Witch, using the cover of night, reached the vicinity of the horse shed at the back of the castle.

Rustle…

A loud noise made her freeze. She quickly hid behind the edge of a well and peered out.

In the darkness of the porch, a tall, stocky figure emerged from the haystacks, clumsily brushing off the straw and hanging his head in despair. The Red Witch recognized him at once: the ex-maester, a dim-witted fatman with traces of giant blood.

An idea flashed in her eyes. She called out, “Who’s there?”

“Roar…”

Instead of a human response, a muffled dragon roar answered her.

Whoosh-

The black dragon flapped its wings, creating gusts that scattered the straw on the shed as it hovered over the castle. On the dragon’s back, Rhaegar frowned as he heard faint sounds below.

Looking down at the castle, he saw no lights, only an eerie silence.

“Cannibal, land,” he commanded.

Rhaegar decided not to act rashly and burn the castle immediately. His mission had a purpose:

Take Stone Hedge Castle.

Wipe out the Bracken House.

Execute Amos Bracken.

Taking the city was the first priority. Stone Hedge was a valuable stronghold, a noble territory with significant worth. Securing it intact was far more beneficial than reducing it to ashes.

Boom!

Cannibal landed on the horse corridor, crushing several fragile haylofts beneath its feet.

As soon as he dismounted, Rhaegar spotted two figures hiding in the shadows of the porch.

“Come out, or my dragon will breathe Dragonfire!” he commanded, his voice deep and authoritative.

“Yes, honorable prince!”

Tall and round, Tru stumbled out and fell to his knees in the mud. His escape had been thwarted by Amos’ orders to seal the secret passageway near the castle, trapping him.

The Red Witch stepped out hesitantly, trembling. Her wide eyes were fixed on the massive dragon, her legs weak with fear. She cursed her luck, knowing that her earlier scream had drawn the dragon’s attention.

Rhaegar’s brow furrowed in surprise as he observed the pair: a burly man in a gray robe with no maester’s chain, and a red-robed witch, a demonic figure of beauty.

The Red Witch especially piqued his interest. She reminded him of another red-robed woman he had encountered in the Vale, one who had a Shadowcat as a companion and wielded strange powers.

With that in mind, Rhaegar pulled out a ruby necklace and addressed the Red Witch, “Do you recognize this?”

His tone was deceptively simple, meant to test her.

The Red Witch looked up tentatively, her eyes first on Rhaegar’s handsome face, then on the necklace. When she saw the ruby, her eyes widened and she blurted out, “Flaming Red Heart!”

“So you recognize it,” Rhaegar said, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

The Red Witch’s breathing quickened, her eyes filled with longing. “This gem is one of the heirlooms of the Temple of R’hllor, lost during the last Valyrian invasion of Lys.”

R’hllor, the Lord of Light, was widely worshipped in the free cities, with one of the largest temples standing in Lys.

Rhaegar shook the necklace in curiosity. “What does it do? Immunity to fire?”

“No, no, no! That would be a waste,” she replied, her voice trembling with excitement. “According to the High Priestess, the Flaming Red Heart allows the wearer to communicate with the gods and have their heart’s desires fulfilled.”

Rhaegar tossed the necklace at her feet. “Try it and see what it does,” he said indifferently.

Cannibal, attuned to Rhaegar’s thoughts, bristled, its dragon’s maw pointed at the Red Witch, ready to unleash fire at a moment’s notice.

The Red Witch, oblivious to the threat, crawled forward and grabbed the necklace, her eyes glued to the ruby.

“Great R’hllor, your faithful servant…” she prayed fervently, clutching the ruby in her hands.

But nothing happened. The ruby remained cold, and no miracle occurred.

“How can this be?” she muttered, her eyes wide with disbelief.

Growing impatient, Rhaegar demanded, “Did it work or not?”

Cannibal lowered its head, its fiery breath heating the air.

“Yes, it will,” the Red Witch stammered, a chill running down her spine. Panicking, she added, “Perhaps it has been too long without a sacrifice, and it needs one to regain its power.”

Rhaegar’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “What kind of sacrifice?”

Uncertain about the beliefs of foreign religions like R’hllor, he scrutinized her closely.

The Red Witch, seeing a potential ally in Rhaegar, tried to smile. “The sacrifice is—”

Suddenly, a sharp knife pierced her chest from behind, cutting her off mid-sentence. Blood flowed freely as her body froze in shock. She turned her head with great difficulty to see the frightened yet determined face of Tru, the disgraced maester.

With a final twitch, she collapsed to the ground, lifeless.

Rhaegar watched with quiet interest, having seen Tru’s move but choosing not to intervene. The Red Witch’s failure to demonstrate the ruby’s power had rendered it useless.

After killing her, Tru dropped the dagger in fear, his stomach heaving with deep breaths. Trembling, he picked up the fallen ruby and held it out with both hands, his voice tinged with desperation. “Honorable Prince, that woman was a liar. She killed many people.”

Tru had been forced to act, unable to let the Red Witch deceive and possibly harm more people. He understood the danger she posed, especially if she gained influence over a royal heir.

Rhaegar, however, was only interested in the ruby’s potential for fire magic. The Targaryens had no need for ritual-they commanded dragons.

Amused by the contrast between Tru’s hulking physique and his gentle demeanor, Rhaegar asked, “Who are you, dressed like a maester?”

“Prince, my name is Tru,” he replied, bowing his head respectfully. He explained his humble origins in the Riverlands and his brief time at the Citadel, where he had studied until a failed wildfire experiment led to his expulsion.

Rhaegar measured Tru carefully, impressed by his intellect despite his unassuming appearance. “Where are the members of the Bracken House hiding?” he inquired.

“In the cellar of the castle,” Tru replied eagerly. “There are many civilians in the castle, driven there by Lord Amos. I can gather some men and capture the Bracken House.”

Rhaegar, intent on preserving the castle, agreed to Tru’s plan. “Go ahead.”

“Yes, lord,” Tru replied, setting out to carry out his orders.

…

Outside Stone Hedge Castle

The drawbridge lowered with a heavy thud, and Amos, flanked by his soldiers, fled with desperate speed. The outer walls were engulfed in dragonfire and wildfire; even a stray spark could mean certain death.

Under the cover of night, over 300 soldiers stumbled into the muddy grass, their path obscured by the darkness. Panic and confusion reigned as they struggled to find their way.

Oooooooooooooooo…

The mournful note of a horn echoed across the open meadow.

Emerging from the night, 2,000 Blackwood soldiers advanced, their presence a grim reminder of the futility of flight.