Half an hour earlier.
Matthis Rowan.
The entire battle had taken the shape of a race. Whichever side achieved its goal first would gain an undeniable edge over its enemy. To the misfortune of the falcon and lion alliance, Rowan had men to spare, and he had no qualms about lending aid to his less experienced counterpart, Willas Tyrell. The scales tipped in the Lord of Goldengrove's favor; soon enough, the whole of Arryn's flank would be destroyed, and the Falcon's eye would be forced to give ground and throw everything he had into a desperate defense. No, he did not underestimate his opponents. Axel Arryn and Tywin Lannister had rightly earned their places among the most seasoned commanders on the continent, but even their tactical brilliance couldn't fundamentally overturn the situation, at best it might soften the blow of defeat. That didn't mean Matthis had let his guard down, quite the opposite, he only sharpened his focus on the battle. Enemy commanders of that caliber wouldn't simply sit back and wait to be beaten; they would surely pull some trick meant to catch him off guard. And so it proved. A messenger from Arryn arrived at their camp bearing a message from his lord.
"You take us for fools?!" "The Arryns have no honor left."
"Quiet!" A short command, and the men around him fell silent. "My thanks for the message. I'll consider it." Matthis assumed the Falcon's eye had resolved on an honorable surrender, followed by swearing fealty to King Renly. That would have been the logical course, and it would have spared the Vale a great many unpleasant consequences down the road. But no. This madman had informed the enemy commander directly, through his own messenger, of his imminent retreat, and had suggested Rowan turn all the Reach's strength against the Lannisters instead. Foolish, perhaps. Brazen, certainly. Could it be turned to his own advantage? Naturally. If the message was true, Matthis could destroy two armies at once. Arryn had handed him a gift fit for a king.
"Have Ser Donniger take a thousand men from headquarters and head for the right flank. On my signal, he's to strike their side and hold them there as long as he can."
"That would leave our own headquarters undefended," one of his men objected.
"Don't exaggerate. We'll still have five hundred men with us, more than enough to deflect any type of attack." Their advantage was overwhelming; a thousand elite knights sitting idle here was simply wasteful. If everything unfolded as planned, the Lannisters would have no choice but to retreat. The Reach's forces were battered, which left only three plausible courses of action: destroy Arryns while ignoring the Lannisters, destroy the lions while ignoring the falcons, or pursue both. The Falcon's eye evidently understood this, which was why he was trying to steer him toward the second option. But pursuing both was the more advantageous choice from every angle. Lord Arryn had miscalculated.
"My lord, a company of five hundred is breaking toward us, the Falcon's eye himself is leading them." A desperate man indeed. "We need to pull the headquarters back and summon Ser Donniger."
"No need. They won't make it through." And Matthis was proven right; amid the flood of enemies, Arryn's banners vanished one after another, until soon nothing remained. "Looks like that's the end of it." Just as he made to turn his attention back to the main battle, he was interrupted once more.
"Why is Ser Davon moving toward us?"
"Hm?" His cousin would need good reason to abandon his position on his own initiative. What could have driven him to act so recklessly? Matthis's own safety, threatened only by the now dead Arryn. But if he was rushing here, that meant the Falcon's eye wasn't dead after all, and could still threaten headquarters! Hells, they'd been fooled by a child's trick with the banners! And worse still, his cousin was rushing to face... "He's no match for that monster, call him back!" War was war, but he loved his cousin and had no wish to see him die.
"There's no time, they're about to clash." Arryn's cutthroats had proven in practice that they were among the best. Small mercy that they'd been focused on breaking through and hadn't wiped out his cousin's whole company; that at least gave hope for Davos's survival. "My lord, if you die, the army is doomed. We'll hold him off, you need to leave at once!" Matthis would have done just that, but the enemy's next move wasn't what anyone expected. He began to regroup, burning precious minutes in the process. Doubt gnawed at Matthis. He'd already been told that Davon, though he'd clashed with the Falcon's eye, had come away with nothing worse than a bruise. He'd been spared by a man famed for his bloodthirstiness. That could not help but unsettle him. His doubts cleared the moment the horn sounded and the Vale's forces began a full scale retreat, with Axel Arryn taking no further action. Such behavior all but pointed him toward the "correct path."
"Let the Vale men retreat. Hear my order: all forces, attack the Lannisters." Seeing the confusion on his men's faces, Rowan explained. "A knife can accomplish more than a kind word ever could. Arryn told us of his retreat and, playing on my overconfidence and greed, drew every defender away from headquarters, leaving me exposed. He himself is the knife at our throats. And if we don't let his men withdraw, he'll turn and strike at our center." "We have five hundred guardsmen here, we can kill Arryn's half dead company easily enough," his advisor objected.
"Can you guarantee success?" The advisor would have liked nothing more, but recent events had shown that stubborn bastards like these weren't so easily killed. "Even if we did kill him, and that's far from certain, we'd take heavy losses and lose the ability to coordinate the pursuit properly. No, we don't need the extra risk. Sound the attack and send riders to Lord Hightower, have them advance to meet us."
"VWOOOOOO! VWOOOOO! VWOOOOOOO!!!" The Vale's knights, satisfied the maneuver was genuine, rode off in a wide arc to rejoin their own men. "Well played, Lord Arryn."
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