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The Dothraki army surged forward like a reckless black tide, while the White City, Viserysfort, stood as an insurmountable white monolith.
Atop the walls of Viserysfort, a midnight-black banner emblazoned with a three-headed red dragon fluttered in the wind.
Seeing this banner, the people cheered the name of their king.
Andals, Rhoynar, and escaped slaves alike.
The Andals had painted the seven-pointed star on their faces, symbolizing the protection of the Warrior, one of the Seven.
Agos presented the longbow. It was a double-curved dragonbone bow, black as eternal night. The dragonbone was as hard as iron, yet extremely light and flexible.
Naturally, dragonbone was impervious to fire.
A dragonbone bow was the finest bow in the world, and its price was astronomically high.
With a dragonbone bow, an archer could easily outrange wooden bows. Even the Dothraki considered dragonbone bows to be rare treasures.
As the premier mercenary company of Essos, the Golden Company possessed vast wealth accumulated over years of warfare.
But their best archers were Black Balaq's fifty Summer Islander Goldenheart bowmen, and even they rarely saw a dragonbone bow in action.
The bow sang like a thunderclap as Viserys drew the string.
Black Balaq and his archers watched the King's calm demeanor, involuntarily anticipating the result.
First arrow!
Second arrow!
Then the third!
Before Black Balaq could even react, the second and third arrows flew out, buzzing like angry bees.
Black Balaq followed the trajectory of the arrows. Unsurprisingly, they punched straight through the chests of the Dothraki.
Every arrow claimed the life of a Dothraki savage.
The Dothraki fought bare-chested, wearing only painted vests and no helmets or visors. They were moving targets with zero defense.
A sharp arrow pierced the throat of a horselord who had been laughing and cursing just moments before. He opened his mouth to shout, but only blood gushed out.
The screaming warriors, waving their arakhs, watched helplessly as their comrades fell one by one, the arrows carrying enough force to pass clean through their bodies.
"You possess true divine strength, Your Grace," Black Balaq said with genuine admiration.
The Summer Islanders were excellent longbowmen themselves, and the performance of Viserys and the Andalos archers had successfully won their respect.
Even though the dragonbone bow had a range far exceeding that of ordinary bows, achieving such accuracy at this distance relied not just on the bow, but on the archer's transcendent strength and skill.
The soldiers on the wall began to cheer, chanting the name: "Long live Viserys! Long live Viserys! Long live King Viserys!"
The Dothraki riders fell into a sullen silence. Their initial assault had shattered like waves against a reef, without even touching the walls of Viserysfort.
The horn sounded again, and the Dothraki launched another charge. The riders galloped forward, trampling the ground beneath them.
Yet all they won was death.
The massive arms of the trebuchets swung wide once more, sending head-sized stones whistling through the air to crash ruthlessly into the earth.
"Now it's your turn to show what you can do," Viserys ordered.
"It would be our honor, Your Grace." Black Balaq did not decline. As reinforcements, they needed to act the part.
"Draw!"
"Loose!"
The sound of bowstrings tightening and then whistling through the air was like a melody of death.
Viserys watched the screaming warriors who had luckily survived the rockfall. The murder holes, ballistae, and archers on the walls claimed their lives.
In desperation, the warriors drew their recurve bows and fired at the walls, but the Andalos defenders held the strategic high ground. Furthermore, the Goldenheart and yew longbows possessed superior power.
Dothraki corpses littered the battlefield, dyeing the earth a gruesome brown.
The open ground in front of Viserysfort was strewn with bodies.
Some had their heads smashed by trebuchet stones, others were killed by arrows and ballista bolts, and some fell from their horses after being wounded, only to be trampled to death.
The battle raged from noon until dusk, yet the Dothraki made little progress.
As the sun set, the fighting came to a temporary halt.
"Once upon a time, there was a Khal named Drogo..."
Soldiers fluent in Dothraki mocked the enemy from the walls. Now it was their turn to taunt the horselords.
Khal Drogo's knuckles turned white. He didn't understand how to crack this tortoise shell. Perhaps he would have to wait for those Tyroshi allies he had initially despised.
Open field battles were the Dothraki's strength; in siege warfare, they were far behind, even clueless.
"Withdraw! Set up camp in the rear!"
"Withdraw."
The Dothraki lines moved back, but they still maintained a loose standoff with Viserysfort.
"They're waiting for someone," Viserys observed Drogo's deployment. Although they had left some bodies behind, Drogo's main force remained intact.
"It must be the Tyroshi reinforcements, Your Grace," Black Balaq said.
Viserys looked at Black Balaq. "Perhaps I need your help. Tell Commander Myles that the situation is ripe."
"As you command, Your Grace." Black Balaq nodded.
If the Andalos army was to be the main force, the Golden Company, wishing to board the ship, needed to demonstrate its value.
Viserys watched the lights slowly appearing in the distant horselord camp. Without locating Khal Drogo's main tent, a night raid would be useless.
Moreover, the horselords could scatter and regroup easily. Only by utterly crushing Khal Drogo could he control this barbarian army.
That night, Viserys dined with his soldiers on the walls of Viserysfort.
Amidst the aroma of roast beef, fresh bread, and grilled fish, the soldiers showed no fear of the continuing war.
Even late into the night, Viserys did not return to the White Castle to rest. Instead, he stayed at his temporary command post at the foot of the mountain, using his large tent.
The next day, the Dothraki attacked in the same manner as before, though with significantly fewer men.
On the third day, a new camp was erected not far from the Dothraki position.
Various banners were raised in the camp. Although Viserys had asked the Golden Company to be on guard, he did not force them to fully commit.
Considering the horselords were still in the field, the Golden Company only sent scouts to investigate.
"It's Bloodbeard's men," Viserys saw through his Myrish lens.
"The Company of the Cat."
"The Brave Companions."
"And mercenaries from the city of Tyrosh."
Viserys identified the banners: a blood-red cat for the Company of the Cat, a black goat with bloody horns for the Brave Companions, and four ravens separated by lightning bolts for the Stormcrows.
These new reinforcements numbered around six thousand.
But the most surprising thing wasn't the mercenary companies themselves, but the fact that they had assembled two massive trebuchets.
It was now clear why the Company of the Cat had arrived relatively late.
Due to their immense size, these trebuchets couldn't launch attacks deep into the city, but they still posed a threat.
"No, not stones."
Viserys watched where the Company of the Cat's trebuchets were aiming. They were likely going to use corpses as ammunition.