Chương 257: Chapter 256: Pre-War Meeting
"According to the intelligence from the Legion Commander, a portion of the Dothraki vanguard has already reached the base of Castle Valor," Jon Connington reported, his bright armor reflecting the candlelight.
The room was brightly lit.
Viserys, too, was dressed in full military attire, flanked by the main commanders of the Pentos guard, including the Ragged Prince. A large map covered the long command table, visible to all.
The map spanned from the Golden Fields in the south to Andalos and Norvos in the north, including Pentos. The great plains between Pentos and Myr were the focus of the map, marked with many notations.
For the purpose of war-gaming, small dragon wood carvings representing the Targaryen army and five small horse carvings symbolizing the Horse King were placed on top.
"As for... the main force of the Dothraki is here," Jon Connington continued, pointing with a command stick to a large mountain in the middle of the plains. This was the only mountain range in the vast plains.
The Dothraki had divided their forces.
Perhaps due to the lack of unified command among the five Khals, or perhaps due to their confidence in their own military strength, the eighty thousand Dothraki were almost twice the strength of the Targaryen forces.
If you count the villages and towns they had conquered along the way, and the slaves they had captured to serve as cannon fodder, the Dothraki army had swelled to over a hundred thousand.
Two Khals, Khal Jhogo and Khal Moro, had combined their khalasars.
Thirty thousand Dothraki warriors, driving slaves before them, had separated from the main force on the great plains and were heading straight for the confluence at the Trident.
There, the Targaryen's First Legion was stationed, numbering ten thousand men.
The main force of the Dothraki, led by the elderly Khal Mors, and Khal Jhaqo and Khal Pono, who had some previous grievances but were now united, were heading straight for Pentos.
"Lord Connington, there's something I don't understand," a voice broke the silence.
"Don't these Dothraki know that a fist is most powerful when it's clenched?"
In the meeting hall of the Nine Towers Palace, Denzo D'han, the former captain of the Windblown, known as the 'War Poet', spoke up, his confusion evident.
Although he had commanded the mercenary company in battle and had achieved remarkable success, he was now involved in commanding an epic battle with over a hundred thousand soldiers on a battlefield hundreds of kilometers deep...
His abilities were somewhat stretched, and his mind was struggling to keep up.
This phenomenon was not unique to Denzo D'han.
Apart from Viserys and Jon Connington, who remained calm, everyone else was at a loss, even the Ragged Prince.
Viserys had studied war knowledge with Maester Daniel and had observed and learned practical application from Ser Joffrey, the commander of the Dragonstone fleet. He had personally commanded a large battle of over ten thousand men.
Viserys was a product of formal education and had achieved brilliant results in practical application.
Jon Connington's situation was similar to Viserys's. He had received a good education and had experience commanding large battles.
Therefore, the two of them remained calm in the face of eighty thousand Dothraki and tens of thousands of displaced people, totaling over a hundred thousand enemies.
But the Ragged Prince, who had only ever commanded the Windblown of over two thousand men, and his subordinate mercenary commanders were far behind, both in terms of courage and intellect.
Denzo D'han didn't understand why the Dothraki had divided their forces.
The other commanders of the Pentos guard nodded in agreement.
They too had this question. Facing an enemy twice their size, they maintained a brave front, but inwardly they were contemplating retreat.
"Because they want to cut off the connection between the First Legion and Pentos," Viserys, who had been sitting at the head of the table studying the war game on the map and had not spoken until now, suddenly said.
He pinched his brow slightly.
Many people said the Dothraki were fools, but were they really all fools?
He didn't believe it.
A long time ago, Drogo died at his hands simply because he underestimated him, and he set a fire that killed him.
However, the Dothraki's bravery and fearlessness left a deep impression on Viserys.
These roaring Dothraki warriors were born cavalrymen. No race could compare to them in terms of horse mastery and cavalry strategy and tactics.
The only drawback of the Dothraki was also their strength: they were too dependent on horses, so much so that they were willing to give up armor and infantry.
If the Dothraki were willing to don armor, combine infantry and cavalry, and build siege weapons, coupled with their valor and fearlessness, the entire continent of Essos would fall at their feet.
Viserys had even envied these Dothraki cavalrymen at one point.
But after defeating Drogo and capturing some Dothraki, they refused to submit to Viserys and preferred to be sold as slaves.
Perhaps they still believed that Viserys had defeated Khal Drogo, the greatest horse warrior in the world, by relying on despicable blood magic.
Viserys had regretted it at the time.
"Cut off the connection?"
Upon hearing the king's words, all the commanders of the Pentos guard began whispering among themselves.
Jon, still standing in front of the map, turned to look at Viserys. Their eyes met, and then he nodded.
"His Majesty... is correct."
"The Dothraki want to cut off the connection between Pentos and the First Legion."
The Dothraki, as a nomadic people, were not skilled at siege warfare.
However, the reason why the Dothraki were unstoppable in siege warfare, becoming destroyers of civilizations and demolishing city after city, was because they had perfected a tactic ingrained in their souls: they exploited their mobility on horseback and their advantage in field battles against infantry.
They could destroy the villages around a city, take their food, and drive these displaced people towards the city they were besieging.
For a city besieged by the Dothraki, accepting these refugees meant consuming food, while slaughtering them would deplete the city's resources and morale.
Many cities besieged by the Dothraki faced this difficult choice.
It was like a prey bitten by a wolf at the throat, eventually exhausting all its strength in the struggle.
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