Chapter 403 Doomed Failure
Seeing the white dragon hovering high in the sky, the members of the Golden Group became anxious.
At this time, Dorn's army also arrived one after another, and began to attack the Golden Army's formation.
Samwell comforted the restless white dragon and helped it pull out the crossbow bolts from its tail and belly.
The hot blood flowed out from the wound, almost instantly evaporating into smoke as soon as it touched the air.
Afterwards, he carefully controlled the white dragon to hover over the battlefield, and carefully found out the hidden scorpion crossbows one by one. After confirming the location, he cooperated with the attack of the Dornish soldiers and let the white dragon swoop down, pouring out flames and anger. on the enemy's head.
During this process, he always paid attention to maintaining the distance between him and the scorpion crossbow. At the same time, he controlled the white dragon to constantly change directions in the air, making it more difficult for the golden group scorpion crossbow to aim.
A crossbow arrow shot through the air, but it could no longer easily hit the white dragon that was flying past.
Instead, under the impact of Dorn's army, one after another Scorpion Crossbow was destroyed.
Seeing that the threat was removed little by little, Bailong became more and more unscrupulous.
The position of the Golden Group has been plowed with bloodstains by the raging fire. Countless charred corpses and screams make the front of the west gate seem to be a purgatory on earth.
Finally, the Golden Group completely collapsed.
The invincible dragon crushed the last straw in their hearts. The surviving mercenaries could no longer organize a decent resistance, and turned around and fled from the open west city gate.
Jon Connington stood on the top of the tower of the Arion family castle, watching the battle at the west gate, and the last trace of luck in his heart finally disappeared.
"My lord, run away!" the guard urged.
Jon turned around silently, and walked down the stairs unhurriedly.
At this time, the Dornishmen have surrounded the castle and are attacking fiercely.
Jon had only gone down two flights of stairs when he saw the Dornishmen rushing into the castle.
He hesitated, and instead of continuing down, he walked through the corridor to a wooden door.
The guard at the door was still doing his duty, but his face couldn't hide his panic.
Jon pushed the door open and entered, and saw Mrs. Ians sitting timidly on the bed in a long lavender dress.
After seeing the man, she smiled sadly:
"Are you here to kill me?"
Jon didn't answer. He held the hilt of the sword at his waist with his right hand, but he couldn't pull it out.
He knew that this woman had betrayed him and caused his failure, but the pride of the knight prevented him from doing so.
Just like in Stone Hall Town, he couldn't give the order to set fire to the city and force Robert Baratheon out.
Countless midnight dreams, Jon thought that if he was given another chance, he might make a different choice in Stone Hall Town.
But now it seems that this is all an illusion of self-deception.
He is not that kind of person.
After a while, he laughed at himself, shook his head, and sighed:
"The gods made me a proud coward."
After saying this, he let go of the hilt of his sword with his right hand and turned to leave.
The shouting outside the door was getting closer, but Jon Conrington calmly ordered:
"Put down your weapons."
The guards looked at each other, but finally gave up resistance.
Jon unhurriedly straightened his collar, as if he was about to attend a grand banquet.
Seeing a Dorne knight rushing over with a **** sword, Jon said:
"We surrender. Please allow me to meet His Majesty Caesar."
At this time, Samwell was standing on the west tower, watching the Dornish soldiers below receive the surrender of the Golden Corps.
The corpses and blood had smelled under the scorching sun, and the soldiers mobilized the people in the city to start digging pits outside the city, preparing to bury the enemy's remains.
Sir Hughes Dayne hurried up the tower, took off his blood-stained helmet, and began to report casualty statistics to Samwell.
In a fierce battle last night, the Dane family army suffered more than 500 casualties, of which more than 100 people died in the battle, and the rest were injured in varying degrees.
Such casualties startled Samwell slightly. He thought it was a devastating victory, but the number of casualties was quite astonishing.
It seems that the combat effectiveness of the Golden Group is still quite terrifying. Under the threat of the giant dragon and the dragged down by their own commander's tricks, they still made the opponent pay a big price.
Of course, their own casualties were even more severe.
According to rough statistics, nearly 2,000 soldiers of the Golden Regiment put down their weapons and surrendered.
Samwell was instructing the aftermath when he saw two guards escorting a middle-aged man over,
Seeing the red and white griffin coat of arms on the opponent's breastplate, Samwell guessed the identity of this person.
"Your Majesty Caesar," Jon Connington bowed respectfully, "The former Hand of the King of Aerys II, the former lord of Griffin's Roost, Jon Connington sends his greetings to you."
Samwell glanced at him lightly, and said:
"Are you here to surrender?"
"Yes."
"Then don't pretend, kneel down and beg my forgiveness."
Jon gritted his teeth and said:
"Don't be complacent, Caesar, you only win because of the dragon."
While speaking, he couldn't help looking at the white dragon who was still wantonly venting his anger.
This terrifying giant beast can feel the suffocating sense of oppression even if it is far away.
Samwell smiled dismissively and said:
"Don't you call yourself Targaryen orthodox? That little Aegon, the eldest grandson of the Mad King, doesn't even have a dragon?"
Jon was speechless for a moment.
Samwell continued to sneer:
"Also, do you know that the Golden Group can't win from the very beginning, even if you succeed in defending the City of Divine Grace in this battle, it doesn't make any sense."
"You won, so of course you are right." Jon was obviously not convinced.
"Do you know why neither the Toland family nor the Arion family are willing to kneel down to your little Aegon? Is it really just because he has no dragons?"
"Is not it?"
Samwell shook his head slowly:
"You overestimated the role of dragons, and underestimated people's hearts. The Dornish people don't have much fear of dragons. They have fought with dragons to the death, and once slaughtered an adult dragon.
The reason why they reject you, young Aegon, and the Golden Company is because once you win, it will mean a major reshuffle of Dorne's existing aristocratic system. "
Jon was stunned, he had already understood what Caesar meant.
The Golden Group is the gathering place for the losers of the Blackfyre Rebellion. It is full of losers in the political struggles of Westeros. They yearn for glory, and even more for territories and titles.
"You are here to grab food." Samwell said, "Talk about yourself, if little Aegon ascends the Iron Throne, of course you will be the Earl of Griffin's Roost, then the current Earl Roland Connington will be obedient Let me give up my title, welcome back?"
Jon lowered his head, already aware of this cruel truth that he had been ignoring all along.
The Golden Company is not welcome in Westeros.
From the day they landed, they were doomed not to be supported by the nobles of the Seven Kingdoms.
It's ridiculous. He always thought that as long as there is little Aegon, as long as they unfurl the banner of three red dragons, there will be crowds of voters immediately, and the nobles of the Seven Kingdoms will come to vote one after another.
Before the resistance of the Toland family and the Ailion family, they always thought it was an exception.
But that's just self-deception.
"You're right." Jon sighed bitterly, "We deserved to lose."
(end of this chapter)