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                          A Clash of Kings - Episode 11                    
  
          64 - DAENERYS V                                                  
                                                                           
          Irri brought her a Qartheen gown.                                
                                                                           
                              DAENERYS                                     
                    Take it away. The docks are no                         
                    place for lady’s finery.                               
                                                                           
          Jhiqui had braided her hair Dothraki fashion.                    
                                                                           
                              DAENERYS                                     
                    I have won no victories.                               
                                                                           
                              JHIQUI                                       
                    You burned the maegi in their house                    
                    of dust and sent their souls to                        
                    hell.                                                  
                                                                           
          She mounted her silver mare. Jhogo and Aggo would ride with      
          her to the waterfront. They made their way through a poorer      
          part of the city.                                                
                                                                           
          Xaro had learned that Pyat Pree was gathering the surviving      
          warlocks together to work ill on her. Dany had laughed when      
          he told her.                                                     
                                                                           
                              DAENERYS                                     
                    Was it not you who told me warlocks                    
                    were no more than old soldiers,                        
                    vainly boasting of forgotten deeds                     
                    and lost prowess?                                      
                                                                           
                              XARO                                         
                    And so it was, then. But now? I am                     
                    less certain. It is said that the                      
                    glass candles are burning in the                       
                    house of Urrathon Night-Walker,                        
                    that have not burned in a hundred                      
                    years. Ghost grass grows in the                        
                    Garden of Gehane, phantom tortoises                    
                    have been seen carrying messages                       
                    between the windowless houses on                       
                    Warlock’s Way, and all the rats in                     
                    the city are chewing off their                         
                    tails. The wife of Mathos                              
                    Mallarawan, who once mocked a                          
                    warlock’s drab moth-eaten robe, has                    
                    gone mad and will wear no clothes                      
                    at all. Even fresh-washed silks                        
                    make her feel as though a thousand                     
                    insects were crawling on her skin.                     
                    And Blind Sybassion the Eater of                       
                    Eyes can see again, or so his                          
                              (MORE)                                       
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                  2.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              XARO  (cont’d)                               
                    slaves do swear. A man must wonder.                    
                    These are strange times in Qarth.                      
                    And strange times are bad for                          
                    trade. It grieves me to say so, yet                    
                    it might be best if you left Qarth                     
                    entirely, and sooner rather than                       
                    later. You need not go alone,                          
                    though. You have seen dark visions                     
                    in the Palace of Dust, but Xaro has                    
                    dreamed brighter dreams. I see you                     
                    happily abed, with our child at                        
                    your breast. Sail with me around                       
                    the Jade Sea, and we can yet make                      
                    it so! It is not too late. Give me                     
                    a son, my sweet song of joy!                           
                                                                           
                              DAENERYS                                     
                    I will not wed you, Xaro.                              
                                                                           
                              XARO                                         
                    Then go.                                               
                                                                           
                              DAENERYS                                     
                    But where?                                             
                                                                           
                              XARO                                         
                    Somewhere far from here.                               
                                                                           
          Dany had begged one last favor of him.                           
                                                                           
                              XARO                                         
                    An army, is it? A kettle of gold? A                    
                    galley, perhaps?                                       
                                                                           
                              DAENERYS                                     
                    A ship, yes.                                           
                                                                           
                              XARO                                         
                    I am a trader, Khaleesi. So perhaps                    
                    we should speak no more of giving,                     
                    but rather of trade. For one of                        
                    your dragons, you shall have ten of                    
                    the finest ships in my fleet. You                      
                    need only say that one sweet word.                     
                                                                           
                              DAENERYS                                     
                    No.                                                    
                                                                           
                              XARO                                         
                    Alas, that was not the word I                          
                    meant.                                                 
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                  3.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              DAENERYS                                     
                    Would you ask a mother to sell one                     
                    of her children?                                       
                                                                           
                              XARO                                         
                    Whyever not? They can always make                      
                    more. Mothers sell their children                      
                    every day.                                             
                                                                           
                              DAENERYS                                     
                    Not the Mother of Dragons.                             
                                                                           
                              XARO                                         
                    Not even for twenty ships?                             
                                                                           
                              DAENERYS                                     
                    Not for a hundred.                                     
                                                                           
                              XARO                                         
                    I do not have a hundred. But you                       
                    have three dragons. Grant me one,                      
                    for all my kindnesses. You will                        
                    still have two and thirty ships as                     
                    well.                                                  
                                                                           
                              DAENERYS                                     
                    How many ships do you own, Xaro?                       
                                                                           
                              XARO                                         
                    Eighty-three, if one does not count                    
                    my pleasure barge.                                     
                                                                           
                              DAENERYS                                     
                    And your colleagues in the                             
                    Thirteen?                                              
                                                                           
                              XARO                                         
                    Among us all, perhaps a thousand.                      
                                                                           
                              DAENERYS                                     
                    And the Spicers and the Tourmaline                     
                    Brotherhood?                                           
                                                                           
                              XARO                                         
                    Their trifling fleets are of no                        
                    account.                                               
                                                                           
                              DAENERYS                                     
                    Even so, tell me.                                      
                                                                           
                              XARO                                         
                    Twelve or thirteen hundred for the                     
                    Spicers. No more than eight hundred                    
                    for the Brotherhood.                                   
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                  4.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              DAENERYS                                     
                    And the Asshai’i, the Braavosi, the                    
                    Summer Islanders, the Ibbenese, and                    
                    all the other peoples who sail the                     
                    great salt sea, how many ships do                      
                    they have? All together?                               
                                                                           
                              XARO                                         
                    Many and more. What does this                          
                    matter?                                                
                                                                           
                              DAENERYS                                     
                    I am trying to set a price on one                      
                    of the three living dragons in the                     
                    world. It seems to me that                             
                    one-third of all the ships in the                      
                    world would be fair.                                   
                                                                           
                              XARO                                         
                    Did I not warn you not to enter the                    
                    Palace of Dust? This is the very                       
                    thing I feared. The whispers of the                    
                    warlocks have made you as mad as                       
                    Mallarawan’s wife. A third of all                      
                    the ships in the world? Pah. Pah, I                    
                    say. Pah.                                              
                                                                           
          Dany had not seen him since. Aggo went before her and Jhogo      
          behind, leaving Ser Jorah Mormont at her side.                   
                                                                           
                              DAENERYS                                     
                    The dragon has three heads. Do you                     
                    know what that means, Jorah?                           
                                                                           
                              JORAH                                        
                    Your Grace? The sigil of House                         
                    Targaryen is a three-headed dragon,                    
                    red on black.                                          
                                                                           
                              DAENERYS                                     
                    I know that. But there are no                          
                    three-headed dragons.                                  
                                                                           
                              JORAH                                        
                    The three heads were Aegon and his                     
                    sisters.                                               
                                                                           
                              DAENERYS                                     
                    Visenya and Rhaenys. I am descended                    
                    from Aegon and Rhaenys through                         
                    their son Aenys and their grandson                     
                    Jaehaerys.                                             
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                  5.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              JORAH                                        
                    Blue lips speak only lies, isn’t                       
                    that what Xaro told you? Why do you                    
                    care what the warlocks whispered?                      
                    All they wanted was to suck the                        
                    life from you, you know that now.                      
                                                                           
                              DAENERYS                                     
                    Perhaps. Yet the things I saw ...                      
                                                                           
                              JORAH                                        
                    A dead man in the prow of a ship, a                    
                    blue rose, a banquet of blood ...                      
                    what does any of it mean, Khaleesi?                    
                    A mummer’s dragon, you said. What                      
                    is a mummer’s dragon, pray?                            
                                                                           
                              DAENERYS                                     
                    A cloth dragon on poles. Mummers                       
                    use them in their follies, to give                     
                    the heroes something to fight. His                     
                    is the song of ice and fire, my                        
                    brother said. I’m certain it was my                    
                    brother. Not Viserys, Rhaegar. He                      
                    had a harp with silver strings.                        
                                                                           
                              JORAH                                        
                    Prince Rhaegar played such a harp.                     
                    You saw him?                                           
                                                                           
                              DAENERYS                                     
                    There was a woman in a bed with a                      
                    babe at her breast. My brother said                    
                    the babe was the prince that was                       
                    promised and told her to name him                      
                    Aegon.                                                 
                                                                           
                              JORAH                                        
                    Prince Aegon was Rhaegar’s heir by                     
                    Elia of Dorne. But if he was this                      
                    prince that was promised, the                          
                    promise was broken along with his                      
                    skull when the Lannisters dashed                       
                    his head against a wall.                               
                                                                           
                              DAENERYS                                     
                    I remember. They murdered Rhaegar’s                    
                    daughter as well, the little                           
                    princess. Rhaenys, she was named,                      
                    like Aegon’s sister. There was no                      
                    Visenya, but he said the dragon has                    
                    three heads. What is the song of                       
                    ice and fire?                                          
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                  6.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              JORAH                                        
                    It’s no song I’ve ever heard.                          
                                                                           
                              DAENERYS                                     
                    I went to the warlocks hoping for                      
                    answers, but instead they’ve left                      
                    me with a hundred new questions.                       
                                                                           
          By then there were people in the streets once more.              
                                                                           
                              AGGO                                         
                    Make way.                                              
                                                                           
                              JHOGO                                        
                    I smell it, Khaleesi. The poison                       
                    water.                                                 
                                                                           
          She rode her silver all the way out to the far end of the        
          harbor where the ships from the Summer Islands, Westeros,        
          and the Nine Free Cities were permitted to dock.                 
                                                                           
                              DAENERYS                                     
                    Aggo, Jhogo, you will guard the                        
                    horses while Ser Jorah and I speak                     
                    to the captains.                                       
                                                                           
                              AGGO                                         
                    As you say, Khaleesi. We will watch                    
                    you as you go.                                         
                                                                           
          They approached the first ship.                                  
                                                                           
                              CAPTAIN                                      
                    You require passage for a hundred                      
                    Dothraki, all their horses,                            
                    yourself and this knight, and three                    
                    dragons?                                               
                                                                           
          She told a Lyseni on the Trumpeteer that she was Daenerys        
          Stormborn, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.                          
                                                                           
                              LYSENI                                       
                    Aye, and I’m Lord Tywin Lannister                      
                    and shit gold every night.                             
                                                                           
          The owner of Lord Faro’s Belly would risk dragons, but not       
          Dothraki.                                                        
                                                                           
                              CAPTINA                                      
                    I’ll have no such godless savages                      
                    in my Belly, I’ll not.                                 
                                                                           
          As they made their way toward the next quay, Ser Jorah laid      
          a hand against the small of her back.                            
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                  7.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              JORAH                                        
                    Your Grace. You are being followed.                    
                    No, do not turn.                                       
                                                                           
          He guided her gently toward a brass-seller’s booth.              
                                                                           
                              JORAH                                        
                    This is a noble work, my queen.                        
                                                                           
          He lifted a large platter for her inspection.                    
                                                                           
                              JORAH                                        
                    See how it shines in the sun?                          
                                                                           
          When Ser Jorah angled it to the right.                           
                                                                           
                              DAENERYS                                     
                    I see a fat brown man and an older                     
                    man with a staff. Which is it?                         
                                                                           
                              JORAH                                        
                    Both of them. They have been                           
                    following us since we left                             
                    Quicksilver.                                           
                                                                           
                              MERCHANT                                     
                    A most excellent brass, great lady.                    
                    Bright as the sun! And for the                         
                    Mother of Dragons, only thirty                         
                    honors.                                                
                                                                           
                              DAENERYS                                     
                    Where are my guards? This man is                       
                    trying to rob me!                                      
                                                                           
          She lowered her voice and spoke in the Common Tongue.            
                                                                           
                              DAENERYS                                     
                    They may not mean me ill. Men have                     
                    looked at women since time began,                      
                    perhaps it is no more than that.                       
                                                                           
                              MERCHANT                                     
                    Thirty? Did I say thirty? Such a                       
                    fool I am. The price is twenty                         
                    honors.                                                
                                                                           
                              DAENERYS                                     
                    All the brass in this booth is not                     
                    worth twenty honors.                                   
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                  8.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              MERCHANT                                     
                    Ten, Khaleesi, because you are so                      
                    lovely. Use it for a looking glass.                    
                    Only brass this fine could capture                     
                    such beauty.                                           
                                                                           
                              DAENERYS                                     
                    It might serve to carry nightsoil.                     
                    If you threw it away, I might pick                     
                    it up, so long as I did not need to                    
                    stoop. But pay for it? Worms have                      
                    crawled up your nose and eaten your                    
                    wits.                                                  
                                                                           
                              MERCHANT                                     
                    Eight honors. My wives will beat me                    
                    and call me fool, but I am a                           
                    helpless child in your hands. Come,                    
                    eight, that is less than it is                         
                    worth.                                                 
                                                                           
                              DAENERYS                                     
                    What do I need with dull brass when                    
                    Xaro Xhoan Daxos feeds me off                          
                    plates of gold?                                        
                                                                           
          As she turned to walk off, Dany glanced over the strangers.      
                                                                           
                              DAENERYS                                     
                    The old man does not wear a sword.                     
                                                                           
                              MERCHANT                                     
                    Five honors, for five it is yours,                     
                    it was meant for you.                                  
                                                                           
                              JORAH                                        
                    A hardwood staff can crack a skull                     
                    as well as any mace.                                   
                                                                           
                              MERCHANT                                     
                    Four! I know you want it!                              
                                                                           
                              DAENERYS                                     
                    Do they follow?                                        
                                                                           
                              JORAH                                        
                    Lift that up a little higher. Yes.                     
                    The old man pretends to linger at a                    
                    potter’s stall, but the brown one                      
                    has eyes only for you.                                 
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                  9.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              MERCHANT                                     
                    Two honors! Two! Two!                                  
                                                                           
                              DAENERYS                                     
                    Pay him before he kills himself.                       
                                                                           
          A Qartheen stepped into her path.                                
                                                                           
                              QUATHEEN                                     
                    Mother of Dragons, for you.                            
                                                                           
          He knelt and thrust a jewel box into her face.                   
                                                                           
                              DAENERYS                                     
                    You are too generous.                                  
                                                                           
          She opened it. Within was a glittering green scarab carved       
          from onyx and emerald. She reached inside the box.               
                                                                           
                              QUATHEEN                                     
                    I am so sorry.                                         
                                                                           
          The scarab unfolded with a hiss. Dany caught a glimpse of an     
          arched tail dripping venom and then the box flew from her        
          hand in pieces. It bit her hand. Ser Jorah slammed past her.     
          The old man hit her hand with his staff and drove the butt       
          of it into the ground, killing the bug. Aggo vaulted from        
          his saddle, Jhogo’s whip cracked overhead, Ser Jorah slammed     
          the eunuch over the head with the brass platter.                 
                                                                           
                              WHITEBEARD                                   
                    Your Grace, a thousand pardons.                        
                    It’s dead. Did I break your hand?                      
                                                                           
                              DAENERYS                                     
                    I don’t think so.                                      
                                                                           
                              WHITEBEARD                                   
                    I had to knock it away.                                
                                                                           
          Aggo kicked his staff away and Jhogo seized him round the        
          shoulders, forced him to his knees, and pressed a dagger to      
          his throat.                                                      
                                                                           
                              JHOGO                                        
                    Khaleesi, we saw him strike you.                       
                    Would you see the color of his                         
                    blood?                                                 
                                                                           
                              DAENERYS                                     
                    Release him. Look at the bottom of                     
                    his staff, blood of my blood.                          
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 10.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
          Ser Jorah had been shoved off his feet by the eunuch. She        
          ran between them as arakh and longsword both came flashing       
          from their sheaths.                                              
                                                                           
                              DAENERYS                                     
                    Put down your steel! Stop it!                          
                                                                           
                              JORAH                                        
                    Your Grace? These men attacked you.                    
                                                                           
                              DAENERYS                                     
                    They were defending me. It was the                     
                    other one, the Qartheen. He was a                      
                    Sorrowful Man. There was a                             
                    manticore in that jewel box he gave                    
                    me. This man knocked it out of my                      
                    hand.                                                  
                                                                           
          She went to the brass merchant and helped him to his feet.       
                                                                           
                              DAENERYS                                     
                    Were you stung?                                        
                                                                           
                              MERCHANT                                     
                    No, good lady, or else I would be                      
                    dead. But it touched me, aieeee,                       
                    when it fell from the box it landed                    
                    on my arm.                                             
                                                                           
          She gave him a silver and sent him on his way. She turned        
          back to the old man.                                             
                                                                           
                              DAENERYS                                     
                    Who is it that I owe my life to?                       
                                                                           
                              WHITEBEARD                                   
                    You owe me nothing, Your Grace. I                      
                    am called Arstan, though Belwas                        
                    named me Whitebeard on the voyage                      
                    here.                                                  
                                                                           
                              DAENERYS                                     
                    And who is Belwas?                                     
                                                                           
          The huge eunuch swaggered forward, sheathing his arakh.          
                                                                           
                              BELWAS                                       
                    I am Belwas. Strong Belwas they                        
                    name me in the fighting pits of                        
                    Meereen. Never did I lose. I let                       
                    each man cut me once, before I kill                    
                    him. Count the cuts and you will                       
                    know how many Strong Belwas has                        
                    slain.                                                 
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 11.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              DAENERYS                                     
                    And why are you here, Strong                           
                    Belwas?                                                
                                                                           
                              BELWAS                                       
                    From Meereen I am sold to Qohor,                       
                    and then to Pentos and the fat man                     
                    with sweet stink in his hair. He it                    
                    was who send Strong Belwas back                        
                    across the sea, and old Whitebeard                     
                    to serve him.                                          
                                                                           
                              DAENERYS                                     
                    Illyrio? You were sent by Magister                     
                    Illyrio?                                               
                                                                           
                              WHITEBEARD                                   
                    We were, Your Grace. The Magister                      
                    begs your kind indulgence for                          
                    sending us in his stead, but he                        
                    cannot sit a horse as he did in his                    
                    youth, and sea travel upsets his                       
                    digestion. I regret if we caused                       
                    you alarm. If truth be told, we                        
                    were not certain, we expected                          
                    someone more ... more ...                              
                                                                           
                              DAENERYS                                     
                    Regal? You speak the Common Tongue                     
                    well, Arstan. Are you of Westeros?                     
                                                                           
                              WHITEBEARD                                   
                    I am. I was born on the Dornish                        
                    Marches, Your Grace. As a boy I                        
                    squired for a knight of Lord                           
                    Swann’s household. Now I squire for                    
                    Belwas.                                                
                                                                           
                              JORAH                                        
                    A bit old for such, aren’t you?                        
                                                                           
                              WHITEBEARD                                   
                    Not too old to serve my liege, Lord                    
                    Mormont.                                               
                                                                           
                              JORAH                                        
                    You know me as well?                                   
                                                                           
                              WHITEBEARD                                   
                    I saw you fight a time or two. At                      
                    Lannisport where you near unhorsed                     
                    the Kingslayer. And on Pyke, there                     
                    as well. You do not recall, Lord                       
                    Mormont?                                               
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 12.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              JORAH                                        
                    Your face seems familiar, but there                    
                    were hundreds at Lannisport and                        
                    thousands on Pyke. And I am no                         
                    lord. Bear Island was taken from                       
                    me. I am but a knight.                                 
                                                                           
                              DAENERYS                                     
                    A knight of my Queensguard. And my                     
                    true friend and good counselor.                        
                    Rise, Arstan Whitebeard. Be                            
                    welcome, Strong Belwas. Ser Jorah                      
                    you know. Ko Aggo and Ko Jhogo are                     
                    blood of my blood. They crossed the                    
                    red waste with me, and saw my                          
                    dragons born.                                          
                                                                           
                              BELWAS                                       
                    Horse boys. Belwas has killed many                     
                    horse boys in the fighting pits.                       
                    They jingle when they die.                             
                                                                           
                              AGGO                                         
                    Never have I killed a fat brown                        
                    man. Belwas will be the first.                         
                                                                           
                              DAENERYS                                     
                    Sheath your steel, blood of my                         
                    blood, this man comes to serve me.                     
                    Belwas, you will accord all respect                    
                    to my people, or you will leave my                     
                    service sooner than you’d wish, and                    
                    with more scars than when you came.                    
                    Now tell me, what would Magister                       
                    Illyrio have of me, that he would                      
                    send you all the way from Pentos?                      
                                                                           
                              BELWAS                                       
                    He would have dragons, and the girl                    
                    who makes them. He would have you.                     
                                                                           
                              WHITEBEARD                                   
                    Belwas has the truth of us, Your                       
                    Grace. We were told to find you and                    
                    bring you back to Pentos. The Seven                    
                    Kingdoms have need of you. Robert                      
                    the Usurper is dead, and the realm                     
                    bleeds. When we set sail from                          
                    Pentos there were four kings in the                    
                    land, and no justice to be had.                        
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 13.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              DAENERYS                                     
                    I have three dragons, and more than                    
                    a hundred in my khalasar, with all                     
                    their goods and horses.                                
                                                                           
                              BELWAS                                       
                    It is no matter, We take all. The                      
                    fat man hires three ships for his                      
                    little silverhair queen.                               
                                                                           
                              WHITEBEARD                                   
                    It is so, Your Grace. The great cog                    
                    Saduleon is berthed at the end of                      
                    the quay, and the galleys Summer                       
                    Sun and Joso’s Prank are anchored                      
                    beyond the breakwater.                                 
                                                                           
                              DAENERYS                                     
                    I shall tell my people to make                         
                    ready to depart at once. But the                       
                    ships that bring me home must bear                     
                    different names.                                       
                                                                           
                              WHITEBEARD                                   
                    As you wish. What names would you                      
                    prefer?                                                
                                                                           
                              DAENERYS                                     
                    Vhagar. Meraxes. And Balerion.                         
                    Paint the names on their hulls in                      
                    golden letters three feet high,                        
                    Arstan. I want every man who sees                      
                    them to know the dragons are                           
                    returned.                                              
                                                                           
                                                                           
          65 - ARYA X                                                      
                                                                           
          The heads had been dipped in tar to slow the rot. The            
          Lannisters the Northmen killed. Arya was filling up a pail       
          from the well when Goodwife Amabel seized her arm. The water     
          spilled on her.                                                  
                                                                           
                              AMABEL                                       
                    You did that on purpose.                               
                                                                           
                              ARYA                                         
                    What do you want?                                      
                                                                           
                              AMABEL                                       
                    See there? When this northman falls                    
                    you’ll be where she is.                                
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 14.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              ARYA                                         
                    Let me go.                                             
                                                                           
                              AMABEL                                       
                    He will fall too, Harrenhal pulls                      
                    them all down in the end. Lord                         
                    Tywin’s won now, he’ll be marching                     
                    back with all his power, and then                      
                    it will be his turn to punish the                      
                    disloyal. And don’t think he won’t                     
                    know what you did! I may have a                        
                    turn at you myself. Harra had an                       
                    old broom, I’ll save it for you.                       
                    The handle’s cracked and                               
                    splintery--                                            
                                                                           
          Arya swung the bucket. The woman let go of her when the          
          water came out and drenched her.                                 
                                                                           
                              ARYA                                         
                    Don’t ever touch me, or I’ll kill                      
                    you. You get away.                                     
                                                                           
                              AMABEL                                       
                    You think you’re safe with that                        
                    little bloody man on your teat, but                    
                    you’re not! The Lannisters are                         
                    coming! See what happens when they                     
                    get here.                                              
                                                                           
          Gendry caught Arya looking at the heads.                         
                                                                           
                              GENDRY                                       
                    Admiring your work?                                    
                                                                           
                              ARYA                                         
                    It’s Steelshanks Walton’s work. And                    
                    the Mummers, and Lord Bolton.                          
                                                                           
                              GENDRY                                       
                    And who gave us all them? You and                      
                    your weasel soup.                                      
                                                                           
                              ARYA                                         
                    It was just hot broth. You hated                       
                    Ser Amory too.                                         
                                                                           
                              GENDRY                                       
                    I hate this lot worse. Ser Amory                       
                    was fighting for his lord, but the                     
                    Mummers are sellswords and                             
                    turncloaks. Half of them can’t even                    
                    speak the Common Tongue. Septon Utt                    
                              (MORE)                                       
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 15.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              GENDRY  (cont’d)                             
                    likes little boys, Qyburn does                         
                    black magic, and your friend Biter                     
                    eats people.                                           
                                                                           
          She crossed the Flowstone Yard, struggling with the weight       
          of the water in her pail.                                        
                                                                           
                              ELMAR                                        
                    Nan. Put down that pail and come                       
                    help me.                                               
                                                                           
          Elmar Frey had been rolling a barrel of sand across the          
          uneven stone. Together they pushed the barrel all the way to     
          the wall and back again, then stood it upright. Elmar pried      
          open the lid and pulled out a chainmail hauberk.                 
                                                                           
                              ELMAR                                        
                    Do you think it’s clean enough?                        
                                                                           
                              ARYA                                         
                    You need to shake out the sand.                        
                    There’s still spots of rust. See?                      
                    You’d best do it again.                                
                                                                           
                              ELMAR                                        
                    You do it.                                             
                                                                           
                              ARYA                                         
                    I have to bring m’lord water for                       
                    his basin. He’s in his bedchamber                      
                    being leeched. Not the regular                         
                    black leeches but the big pale                         
                    ones.                                                  
                                                                           
                              ELMAR                                        
                    I forgot, you’re too skinny to push                    
                    such a heavy barrel.                                   
                                                                           
                              ARYA                                         
                    I forgot, you’re stupid. Maybe you                     
                    should get leeched too. There’s                        
                    leeches in the Neck as big as pigs.                    
                                                                           
          The lord’s bedchamber was crowded when she entered. Qyburn       
          was in attendance, and Walton, a dozen Freys, all brothers,      
          half brothers, and cousins. Roose Bolton lay abed, naked.        
          Leeches clung all across his body.                               
                                                                           
                              AENYS                                        
                    We must not allow Lord Tywin to                        
                    trap us here at Harrenhal. The                         
                    castle is so large it requires an                      
                              (MORE)                                       
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 16.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              AENYS  (cont’d)                              
                    army to hold it, and once                              
                    surrounded we cannot feed an army.                     
                    Nor can we hope to lay in                              
                    sufficient supplies. The country is                    
                    ash, the villages given over to                        
                    wolves, the harvest burnt or                           
                    stolen. Autumn is on us, yet there                     
                    is no food in store and none being                     
                    planted. We live on forage, and if                     
                    the Lannisters deny that to us, we                     
                    will be down to rats and shoe                          
                    leather in a moon’s turn.                              
                                                                           
                              ROOSE                                        
                    I do not mean to be besieged here.                     
                                                                           
                              JARED                                        
                    What, then? Is Edmure Tully so                         
                    drunk on his victory that he thinks                    
                    to give Lord Tywin battle in the                       
                    open field?                                            
                                                                           
                              ROOSE                                        
                    Lord Tywin is many leagues from                        
                    here. He has many matters yet to                       
                    settle at King’s Landing. He will                      
                    not march on Harrenhal for some                        
                    time.                                                  
                                                                           
                              AENYS                                        
                    You do not know the Lannisters as                      
                    we do, my lord. King Stannis                           
                    thought that Lord Tywin was a                          
                    thousand leagues away as well, and                     
                    it undid him.                                          
                                                                           
                              ROOSE                                        
                    I am not a man to be undone, ser.                      
                                                                           
                              AENYS                                        
                    Even if Riverrun marshals all its                      
                    strength and the Young Wolf wins                       
                    back from the west, how can we hope                    
                    to match the numbers Lord Tywin can                    
                    send against us? When he comes, he                     
                    will come with far more power than                     
                    he commanded on the Green Fork.                        
                    Highgarden has joined itself to                        
                    Joffrey’s cause, I remind you!                         
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 17.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              ROOSE                                        
                    I had not forgotten.                                   
                                                                           
                              HOSTEEN                                      
                    I have been Lord Tywin’s captive                       
                    once. I have no wish to enjoy                          
                    Lannister hospitality again.                           
                                                                           
                              HARYS                                        
                    If Lord Tywin could defeat a                           
                    seasoned man like Stannis                              
                    Baratheon, what chance will our boy                    
                    king have against him?                                 
                                                                           
                              HOSTEEN                                      
                    Someone must have the courage to                       
                    say it. The war is lost. King Robb                     
                    must be made to see that.                              
                                                                           
                              ROOSE                                        
                    His Grace has defeated the                             
                    Lannisters every time he has faced                     
                    them in battle.                                        
                                                                           
                              HOSTEEN                                      
                    He has lost the north. He has lost                     
                    Winterfell! His brothers are dead                      
                    ...                                                    
                                                                           
                              RONEL                                        
                    Had Stannis won, all might have                        
                    been different.                                        
                                                                           
                              HOSTEEN                                      
                    Stannis lost. Wishing it were                          
                    otherwise will not make it so. King                    
                    Robb must make his peace with the                      
                    Lannisters. He must put off his                        
                    crown and bend the knee, little as                     
                    he may like it.                                        
                                                                           
                              ROOSE                                        
                    And who will tell him so? It is a                      
                    fine thing to have so many valiant                     
                    brothers in such troubled times. I                     
                    shall think on all you’ve said.                        
                                                                           
          The Freys made their courtesies and shuffled out, leaving        
          only Qyburn, Steelshanks Walton, and Arya.                       
                                                                           
                              ROOSE                                        
                    I am bled sufficiently. Nan, you                       
                    may remove the leeches.                                
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 18.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              ARYA                                         
                    At once, my lord.                                      
                                                                           
          She plucked them carefully from the lord’s body.                 
                                                                           
                              QYBURN                                       
                    There is a letter from your lady                       
                    wife.                                                  
                                                                           
                              ROOSE                                        
                    You may read it.                                       
                                                                           
                              WALDA                                        
                    I pray for you morn, noon, and                         
                    night, my sweet lord, and count the                    
                    days until you share my bed again.                     
                    Return to me soon, and I will give                     
                    you many trueborn sons to take the                     
                    place of your dear Domeric and rule                    
                    the Dreadfort after you.                               
                                                                           
                              ROOSE                                        
                    I will send a letter of my own.                        
                                                                           
                              QYBURN                                       
                    To the Lady Walda?                                     
                                                                           
                              ROOSE                                        
                    To Ser Helman Tallhart.                                
                                                                           
          Tallhart men had taken the castle of the Darrys, accepting       
          the surrender of its Lannister garrison after a brief siege.     
                                                                           
                              ROOSE                                        
                    Tell him to put the captives to the                    
                    sword and the castle to the torch,                     
                    by command of the king. Then he is                     
                    to join forces with Robett Glover                      
                    and strike east toward Duskendale.                     
                    Those are rich lands, and hardly                       
                    touched by the fighting. It is time                    
                    they had a taste. Glover has lost a                    
                    castle, and Tallhart a son. Let                        
                    them take their vengeance on                           
                    Duskendale.                                            
                                                                           
                              QYBURN                                       
                    I shall prepare the message for                        
                    your seal, my lord.                                    
                                                                           
                              ROOSE                                        
                    I will hunt today.                                     
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 19.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              QYBURN                                       
                    Is it safe, my lord? Only three                        
                    days past, Septon Utt’s men were                       
                    attacked by wolves. They came right                    
                    into his camp, not five yards from                     
                    the fire, and killed two horses.                       
                                                                           
                              ROOSE                                        
                    It is wolves I mean to hunt. I can                     
                    scarcely sleep at night for the                        
                    howling. It’s said that direwolves                     
                    once roamed the north in great                         
                    packs of a hundred or more, and                        
                    feared neither man nor mammoth, but                    
                    that was long ago and in another                       
                    land. It is queer to see the common                    
                    wolves of the south so bold.                           
                                                                           
                              QYBURN                                       
                    Terrible times breed terrible                          
                    things, my lord.                                       
                                                                           
                              ROOSE                                        
                    Are these times so terrible,                           
                    Maester?                                               
                                                                           
                              QYBURN                                       
                    Summer is gone and there are four                      
                    kings in the realm.                                    
                                                                           
                              ROOSE                                        
                    One king may be terrible, but four?                    
                    Nan, my fur cloak. My chambers will                    
                    be clean and orderly upon my                           
                    return. And tend to Lady Walda’s                       
                    letter.                                                
                                                                           
                              ARYA                                         
                    As you say, my lord.                                   
                                                                           
          The lord and maester swept from the room. When they were         
          gone, Arya took the letter and carried it to the hearth. She     
          saw a map and saw where Riverrun was. Arya took herself off      
          to the godswood and slashed at birch leaves.                     
                                                                           
                              ARYA                                         
                    Ser Gregor. Dunsen, Polliver, Raff                     
                    the Sweetling. The Tickler, the                        
                    Hound. Ser Ilyn, Ser Meryn, Queen                      
                    Cersei. Joffrey, Joffrey, Joffrey.                     
                    Valar morghulis.                                       
                                                                           
          When the hunting party returned with nine dead wolves, Lord      
          Bolton gave orders for the skins to be sewn into a blanket.      
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 20.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              MAN                                          
                    Cubs still have that soft fur, my                      
                    lord. Make you a nice warm pair of                     
                    gloves.                                                
                                                                           
                              ROOSE                                        
                    As the Starks are wont to remind                       
                    us, winter is coming. Have it done.                    
                    Nan, I’ll want a flagon of hot                         
                    spice wine, I took a chill in the                      
                    woods. See that it doesn’t get                         
                    cold. I’m of a mind to sup alone.                      
                    Barley bread, butter, and boar.                        
                                                                           
                              ARYA                                         
                    At once, my lord.                                      
                                                                           
          Hot Pie was making oatcakes when she entered the kitchen.        
                                                                           
                              ARYA                                         
                    My lord wants his supper, and hot                      
                    spice wine to wash it down, and he                     
                    doesn’t want it cold.                                  
                                                                           
          Hot Pie went to spice the wine. Arya went to help.               
                                                                           
                              HOT PIE                                      
                    I can do it. I don’t need you to                       
                    show me how to spice wine.                             
                                                                           
          One of the guards held the door to Kingspyre.                    
                                                                           
                              GUARD                                        
                    Hope that’s not weasel soup.                           
                                                                           
          Roose Bolton was seated by the hearth when she entered.          
                                                                           
                              ROOSE                                        
                    Light some candles. It grows gloomy                    
                    in here.                                               
                                                                           
          She placed the food at his elbow and did as he bid her.          
                                                                           
                              ROOSE                                        
                    I will have no further need of you                     
                    tonight.                                               
                                                                           
                              ARYA                                         
                    My lord, will you take me with you                     
                    when you leave Harrenhal?                              
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 21.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              ROOSE                                        
                    Did I give you leave to question                       
                    me, Nan?                                               
                                                                           
                              ARYA                                         
                    No, my lord.                                           
                                                                           
                              ROOSE                                        
                    You should not have spoken, then.                      
                    Should you?                                            
                                                                           
                              ARYA                                         
                    No. My lord.                                           
                                                                           
                              ROOSE                                        
                    I will answer you, just this once.                     
                    I mean to give Harrenhal to Lord                       
                    Vargo when I return to the north.                      
                    You will remain here, with him.                        
                                                                           
                              ARYA                                         
                    But I don’t--                                          
                                                                           
                              ROOSE                                        
                    I am not in the habit of being                         
                    questioned by servants, Nan. Must I                    
                    have your tongue out?                                  
                                                                           
                              ARYA                                         
                    No, my lord.                                           
                                                                           
                              ROOSE                                        
                    Then I’ll hear no more from you?                       
                                                                           
                              ARYA                                         
                    No, my lord.                                           
                                                                           
                              ROOSE                                        
                    Go, then. I shall forget this                          
                    insolence.                                             
                                                                           
          She passed the Wailing Tower and Elmar was sitting on the        
          steps outside, alone.                                            
                                                                           
                              ARYA                                         
                    What’s wrong?                                          
                                                                           
                              ELMAR                                        
                    My princess. We’ve been dishonored,                    
                    Aenys says. There was a bird from                      
                    the Twins. My lord father says I’ll                    
                    need to marry someone else, or be a                    
                    septon.                                                
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 22.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              ARYA                                         
                    My brothers might be dead.                             
                                                                           
                              ELMAR                                        
                    No one cares about a serving girl’s                    
                    brothers.                                              
                                                                           
                              ARYA                                         
                    I hope your princess dies.                             
                                                                           
          In the godswood she found her broomstick sword where she had     
          left it, and carried it to the heart tree.                       
                                                                           
                              ARYA                                         
                    Tell me what to do, you gods.                          
                                                                           
          For a long moment there was no sound but then from somewhere     
          out in the world, came the long lonely howl of a wolf.           
                                                                           
                              EDDARD                                       
                    When the snows fall and the white                      
                    winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but                    
                    the pack survives.                                     
                                                                           
                              ARYA                                         
                    But there is no pack. I’m not even                     
                    me now, I’m Nan.                                       
                                                                           
                              EDDARD                                       
                    You are Arya of Winterfell,                            
                    daughter of the north. You told me                     
                    you could be strong. You have the                      
                    wolf blood in you.                                     
                                                                           
                              ARYA                                         
                    The wolf blood. I’ll be as strong                      
                    as Robb. I said I would.                               
                                                                           
          She lifted the broomstick in both hands and brought it down      
          across her knee. She threw the pieces aside.                     
                                                                           
          At the forge she found Gendry asleep with two other              
          apprentice smiths. She put a hand over his mouth and pinched     
          him. His eyes opened.                                            
                                                                           
                              ARYA                                         
                    Please.                                                
                                                                           
          He climbed down from the loft after her.                         
                                                                           
                              GENDRY                                       
                    What do you want now?                                  
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 23.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              ARYA                                         
                    A sword.                                               
                                                                           
                              GENDRY                                       
                    Blackthumb keeps all the blades                        
                    locked up, I told you that a                           
                    hundred times. Is this for Lord                        
                    Leech?                                                 
                                                                           
                              ARYA                                         
                    For me. Break the lock with your                       
                    hammer.                                                
                                                                           
                              GENDRY                                       
                    They’ll break my hand. Or worse.                       
                                                                           
                              ARYA                                         
                    Not if you run off with me.                            
                                                                           
                              GENDRY                                       
                    Run, and they’ll catch you and kill                    
                    you.                                                   
                                                                           
                              ARYA                                         
                    They’ll do you worse. Lord Bolton                      
                    is giving Harrenhal to the Bloody                      
                    Mummers, he told me so.                                
                                                                           
                              GENDRY                                       
                    So?                                                    
                                                                           
                              ARYA                                         
                    So when Vargo Hoat’s the lord, he’s                    
                    going to cut off the feet of all                       
                    the servants to keep them from                         
                    running away. The smiths too.                          
                                                                           
                              GENDRY                                       
                    That’s only a story.                                   
                                                                           
                              ARYA                                         
                    No, it’s true, I heard Lord Vargo                      
                    say so. He’s going to cut one foot                     
                    off everyone. The left one. Go to                      
                    the kitchens and wake Hot Pie,                         
                    he’ll do what you say. We’ll need                      
                    bread or oatcakes or something. You                    
                    get the swords and I’ll do the                         
                    horses. We’ll meet near the postern                    
                    in the east wall, behind the Tower                     
                    of Ghosts. No one ever comes there.                    
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 24.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              GENDRY                                       
                    I know that gate. It’s guarded,                        
                    same as the rest.                                      
                                                                           
                              ARYA                                         
                    So? You won’t forget the swords?                       
                                                                           
                              GENDRY                                       
                    I never said I’d come.                                 
                                                                           
                              ARYA                                         
                    No. But if you do, you won’t forget                    
                    the swords?                                            
                                                                           
                              GENDRY                                       
                    No. I guess I won’t.                                   
                                                                           
          The sheepskin map was on the table. She rolled it up tight       
          and thrust it through her belt. He’d left his dagger on the      
          table as well, so she took that too.                             
                                                                           
          A horse neighed softly as she slipped into the stables. The      
          grooms were all asleep. She woke up one.                         
                                                                           
                              GROOM                                        
                    Eh? Whas?                                              
                                                                           
                              ARYA                                         
                    Lord Bolton requires three horses                      
                    saddled and bridled.                                   
                                                                           
                              GROOM                                        
                    Wha, at this hour? Horses, you say?                    
                    Whas he want horses for, in the                        
                    dark?                                                  
                                                                           
                              ARYA                                         
                    Lord Bolton is not in the habit of                     
                    being questioned by servants.                          
                                                                           
                              GROOM                                        
                    Three, you say?                                        
                                                                           
                              ARYA                                         
                    One two three. Hunting horses. Fast                    
                    and surefoot.                                          
                                                                           
          She lead the horses across the castle. Only a grey and white     
          cat creeping along atop the godswood wall saw her.               
                                                                           
                              ARYA                                         
                    I could catch you if I wanted, but                     
                    I have to go, cat.                                     
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 25.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
          She waited at the Tower of Ghosts. She heard them coming         
          long before she saw them. Hot Pie was breathing heavily. The     
          swords Gendry was carrying rang as he moved.                     
                                                                           
                              ARYA                                         
                    Here I am. Be quiet or they’ll hear                    
                    you.                                                   
                                                                           
          The boys picked their way toward her over tumbled stones.        
                                                                           
                              GENDRY                                       
                    There’s a guard on that postern. I                     
                    told you there would be.                               
                                                                           
                              ARYA                                         
                    You stay here with the horses. I’ll                    
                    get rid of him. Come quick when I                      
                    call.                                                  
                                                                           
                              HOT PIE                                      
                    Hoot like an owl when you want us                      
                    to come.                                               
                                                                           
                              ARYA                                         
                    I’m not an owl. I’m a wolf. I’ll                       
                    howl.                                                  
                                                                           
          She approached the guard openly. He watched her come. When       
          she reached him she pushed back her cloak so he would see        
          the flayed man on her breast.                                    
                                                                           
                              ARYA                                         
                    Lord Bolton sent me.                                   
                                                                           
                              GUARD                                        
                    At this hour? Why for?                                 
                                                                           
                              ARYA                                         
                    He told me to give all his guards a                    
                    silver piece, for their good                           
                    service.                                               
                                                                           
                              GUARD                                        
                    Silver, you say? Give it over,                         
                    then.                                                  
                                                                           
          Her fingers dug down beneath her tunic and came out              
          clutching the coin Jaqen had given her. She held it out and      
          let it slip through her fingers.                                 
                                                                           
          The man went to a knee to grope for the coin. Arya slid her      
          dagger out and drew it across his throat.                        
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 26.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              ARYA                                         
                    Valar morghulis.                                       
                                                                           
          She picked up the coin. Outside the walls of Harrenhal, a        
          wolf howled long and loud. She lifted the bar, set it aside,     
          and pulled open the heavy oak door. Hot Pie and Gendry came      
          up with the horses.                                              
                                                                           
                              HOT PIE                                      
                    You killed him!                                        
                                                                           
                              ARYA                                         
                    What did you think I would do?                         
                                                                           
                                                                           
          66 - SANSA VIII                                                  
                                                                           
          They were in the throne room. King Joffrey sat above them        
          all. A blast of trumpets announced the entry of Lord Tywin       
          Lannister. Lord Tywin dismounted before the Iron Throne.         
          Joffrey proclaimed him Savior of the City.                       
                                                                           
          Joff made a show of asking his grandfather to assume             
          governance of the realm, and Lord Tywin solemnly accepted        
          the responsibility. Joff fastened the Hand’s chain of office     
          around his neck. Lord Tywin took a seat at the council table     
          beside the queen.                                                
                                                                           
          Pride of place was given to Mace Tyrell, the Lord of             
          Highgarden. His sons followed him in; Ser Loras and his          
          older brother Ser Garlan the Gallant.                            
                                                                           
                              JOFFREY                                      
                    The roses support the lion, as the                     
                    might of Highgarden supports the                       
                    realm. If there is any boon you                        
                    would ask of me, ask and it shall                      
                    be yours.                                              
                                                                           
                              LORAS                                        
                    Your Grace, I beg the honor of                         
                    serving in your Kingsguard, to                         
                    defend you against your enemies.                       
                                                                           
                              JOFFREY                                      
                    Done, brother.                                         
                                                                           
                              LORAS                                        
                    There is no greater pleasure than                      
                    to serve the King’s Grace. If I was                    
                    deemed worthy to join your royal                       
                    council, you would find none more                      
                    loyal or true.                                         
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 27.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              JOFFREY                                      
                    Your wish is granted.                                  
                                                                           
                              GARLAN                                       
                    Your Grace, I have a maiden sister,                    
                    Margaery, the delight of our House.                    
                    She was wed to Renly Baratheon, as                     
                    you know, but Lord Renly went to                       
                    war before the marriage could be                       
                    consummated, so she remains                            
                    innocent. Margaery has heard tales                     
                    of your wisdom, courage, and                           
                    chivalry, and has come to love you                     
                    from afar. I beseech you to send                       
                    for her, to take her hand in                           
                    marriage, and to wed your House to                     
                    mine for all time.                                     
                                                                           
                              JOFFREY                                      
                    Ser Garlan, your sister’s beauty is                    
                    famed throughout the Seven                             
                    Kingdoms, but I am promised to                         
                    another. A king must keep his word.                    
                                                                           
          Queen Cersei got to her feet in a rustle of skirts.              
                                                                           
                              CERSEI                                       
                    Your Grace, in the judgment of your                    
                    small council, it would be neither                     
                    proper nor wise for you to wed the                     
                    daughter of a man beheaded for                         
                    treason, a girl whose brother is in                    
                    open rebellion against the throne                      
                    even now. Sire, your councillors                       
                    beg you, for the good of your                          
                    realm, set Sansa Stark aside. The                      
                    Lady Margaery will make you a far                      
                    more suitable queen.                                   
                                                                           
          The lords and ladies began to shout their pleasure.              
                                                                           
                              PEOPLE                                       
                    Margaery. Give us Margaery! No                         
                    traitor queens! Tyrell! Tyrell!                        
                                                                           
                              JOFFREY                                      
                    I would like to heed the wishes of                     
                    my people, Mother, but I took a                        
                    holy vow.                                              
                                                                           
          The High Septon stepped forward.                                 
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 28.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              SEPTON                                       
                    Your Grace, the gods hold                              
                    bethrothal solemn, but your father,                    
                    King Robert of blessed memory, made                    
                    this pact before the Starks of                         
                    Winterfell had revealed their                          
                    falseness. Their crimes against the                    
                    realm have freed you from any                          
                    promise you might have made. So far                    
                    as the Faith is concerned, there is                    
                    no valid marriage contract ’twixt                      
                    you and Sansa Stark.                                   
                                                                           
                              JOFFREY                                      
                    The gods are good. I am free to                        
                    heed my heart. I will wed your                         
                    sweet sister, and gladly, ser.                         
                                                                           
          I must not smile, she reminded herself. The queen had warned     
          her; the face she showed the world must look distraught.         
                                                                           
                              CERSEI                                       
                    I will not have my son humiliated.                     
                    Do you hear me?                                        
                                                                           
                              SANSA                                        
                    Yes. But if I’m not to be queen,                       
                    what will become of me?                                
                                                                           
                              CERSEI                                       
                    That will need to be determined.                       
                    For the moment, you shall remain                       
                    here at court, as our ward.                            
                                                                           
                              SANSA                                        
                    I want to go home.                                     
                                                                           
                              CERSEI                                       
                    You should have learned by now,                        
                    none of us get the things we want.                     
                                                                           
          The Lord of Highgarden had been seated at the council table,     
          and his sons had joined the other knights and lordlings.         
          Many knights were given high honor by the king.                  
                                                                           
                              HERALD                                       
                    It is His Grace’s wish that these                      
                    good men be rewarded for their                         
                    valor. By his decree, Ser Philip                       
                    shall henceforth be Lord Philip of                     
                    House Foote, and to him shall go                       
                    all the lands, rights, and incomes                     
                    of House Caron. Lothor Brune to be                     
                              (MORE)                                       
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 29.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              HERALD  (cont’d)                             
                    raised to the estate of knighthood,                    
                    and granted land and keep in the                       
                    riverlands at war’s end. To Josmyn                     
                    Peckledon, a sword and suit of                         
                    plate, his choice of any warhorse                      
                    in the royal stables, and                              
                    knighthood as soon as he shall come                    
                    of age. And lastly, for Goodman                        
                    Willit, a spear with a                                 
                    silver-banded haft, a hauberk of                       
                    new-forged ringmail, and a full                        
                    helm with visor. Further, the                          
                    goodman’s sons shall be taken into                     
                    the service of House Lannister at                      
                    Casterly Rock, the elder as a                          
                    squire and the younger as a page,                      
                    with the chance to advance to                          
                    knighthood if they serve loyally                       
                    and well. To all this, the King’s                      
                    Hand and the small council consent.                    
                                                                           
          A lordship was granted to Ser Lancel Lannister. Joffrey          
          awarded him the lands, castle, and rights of House Darry.        
          Ser Lancel did not appear to accept the title; the talk was,     
          his wound might cost him his arm or even his life.               
                                                                           
                              HERALD                                       
                    Lord Petyr Baelish.                                    
                                                                           
          Petyr Baelish knelt before the Iron Throne.                      
                                                                           
                              KEVAN                                        
                    It is the wish of the King’s Grace                     
                    that his loyal councillor Petyr                        
                    Baelish be rewarded for faithful                       
                    service to crown and realm. Be it                      
                    known that Lord Baelish is granted                     
                    the castle of Harrenhal with all                       
                    its attendant lands and incomes,                       
                    there to make his seat and rule                        
                    henceforth as Lord Paramount of the                    
                    Trident. Petyr Baelish and his sons                    
                    and grandsons shall hold and enjoy                     
                    these honors until the end of time,                    
                    and all the lords of the Trident                       
                    shall do him homage as their                           
                    rightful liege. The King’s Hand and                    
                    the small council consent.                             
                                                                           
                              PETYR                                        
                    I thank you humbly, Your Grace. I                      
                    suppose this means I’ll need to see                    
                              (MORE)                                       
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 30.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              PETYR  (cont’d)                              
                    about getting some sons and                            
                    grandsons.                                             
                                                                           
          More than six hundred new knights were made that day, then       
          the captives were ushered in. If they begged forgiveness for     
          their treasons and promised to serve loyally henceforth,         
          Joffrey welcomed them back into the king’s peace and             
          restored them to all their lands and rights. A handful           
          remained defiant, however.                                       
                                                                           
                              CAPTIVE                                      
                    Do not imagine this is done, boy.                      
                    The Lord of Light protects King                        
                    Stannis, now and always. All your                      
                    swords and all your scheming shall                     
                    not save you when his hour comes.                      
                                                                           
                              JOFFREY                                      
                    Your hour is come right now.                           
                                                                           
          Joffrey beckoned to Ser Ilyn Payne to strike his head off.       
                                                                           
                              CAPTIVE                                      
                    Stannis is the true king! A monster                    
                    sits the Iron Throne, an                               
                    abomination born of incest!                            
                                                                           
                              KEVAN                                        
                    Be silent.                                             
                                                                           
                              KNIGHT                                       
                    Joffrey is the black worm eating                       
                    the heart of the realm! Darkness                       
                    was his father, and death his                          
                    mother! Destroy him before he                          
                    corrupts you all! Destroy them all,                    
                    queen whore and king worm, vile                        
                    dwarf and whispering spider, the                       
                    false flowers. Save yourselves! The                    
                    scouring fire will come! King                          
                    Stannis will return!                                   
                                                                           
                              JOFFREY                                      
                    I’m king! Kill him! Kill him now! I                    
                    command it.                                            
                                                                           
          Joffrey chopped down with his hand and his arm brushed           
          against one of the sharp metal fangs that surrounded him.        
                                                                           
                              JOFFREY                                      
                    Mother!                                                
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 31.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
          The man on the floor wrested a spear away from one of the        
          gold cloaks, and used it to push himself back to his feet.       
                                                                           
                              KNIGHT                                       
                    The throne denies him! He is no                        
                    king!                                                  
                                                                           
          Cersei was running toward the throne, but Lord Tywin             
          remained still as stone. He had only to raise a finger, and      
          Ser Meryn Trant moved forward and drove the point of his         
          longsword through the knight’s chest.                            
                                                                           
          Joff fell into his mother’s arms. Three maesters came            
          hurrying forward, to bundle him out through the king’s door.     
          Lord Tywin rose to his feet.                                     
                                                                           
                              TYWIN                                        
                    We continue. Those who wish to ask                     
                    pardon for their treasons may do                       
                    so. We will have no more follies.                      
                                                                           
          He moved to the Iron Throne and seated himself on a step.        
          After she left for the godswood where Dontos waited.             
                                                                           
                              SANSA                                        
                    Why so sadface? You were there, you                    
                    heard. Joff put me aside, he’s done                    
                    with me, he’s ...                                      
                                                                           
                              DONTOS                                       
                    Oh, Jonquil, my poor Jonquil, you                      
                    do not understand. Done with you?                      
                    They’ve scarcely begun.                                
                                                                           
                              SANSA                                        
                    What do you mean?                                      
                                                                           
                              DONTOS                                       
                    The queen will never let you go,                       
                    never. You are too valuable a                          
                    hostage. And Joffrey ... sweetling,                    
                    he is still king. If he wants you                      
                    in his bed, he will have you, only                     
                    now it will be bastards he plants                      
                    in your womb instead of trueborn                       
                    sons.                                                  
                                                                           
                              SANSA                                        
                    No. He let me go, he ...                               
                                                                           
                              DONTOS                                       
                    Be brave. I swore to see you home,                     
                    and now I can. The day has been                        
                    chosen.                                                
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 32.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              SANSA                                        
                    When? When will we go?                                 
                                                                           
                              DONTOS                                       
                    The night of Joffrey’s wedding.                        
                    After the feast. All the necessary                     
                    arrangements have been made. The                       
                    Red Keep will be full of strangers.                    
                    Half the court will be drunk and                       
                    the other half will be helping                         
                    Joffrey bed his bride. For a little                    
                    while, you will be forgotten, and                      
                    the confusion will be our friend.                      
                                                                           
                              SANSA                                        
                    The wedding won’t be for a moon’s                      
                    turn yet. Margaery Tyrell is at                        
                    Highgarden, they’ve only now sent                      
                    for her.                                               
                                                                           
                              DONTOS                                       
                    You’ve waited so long, be patient                      
                    awhile longer. Here, I have                            
                    something for you.                                     
                                                                           
          Ser Dontos drew out a hair net of fine-spun silver. Small        
          gems were set wherever two strands crossed.                      
                                                                           
                              SANSA                                        
                    What stones are these?                                 
                                                                           
                              DONTOS                                       
                    Black amethysts from Asshai. The                       
                    rarest kind, a deep true purple by                     
                    daylight.                                              
                                                                           
                              SANSA                                        
                    It’s very lovely.                                      
                                                                           
                              DONTOS                                       
                    Lovelier than you know, sweet                          
                    child. It’s magic, you see. It’s                       
                    justice you hold. It’s vengeance                       
                    for your father. It’s home.                            
                                                                           
                                                                           
          67 - THEON VI                                                    
                                                                           
          Maester Luwin came to him when the first scouts were seen        
          outside the walls.                                               
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 33.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              LUWIN                                        
                    My lord prince, you must yield.                        
                                                                           
                              THEON                                        
                    There has been no reply from my                        
                    uncle?                                                 
                                                                           
                              LUWIN                                        
                    None. Nor from your father on Pyke.                    
                                                                           
                              THEON                                        
                    Send more birds.                                       
                                                                           
                              LUWIN                                        
                    It will not serve. By the time the                     
                    birds reach--                                          
                                                                           
                              THEON                                        
                    Send them! Or do you want me dead?                     
                    Is that it, Luwin? The truth now.                      
                                                                           
                              LUWIN                                        
                    My order serves.                                       
                                                                           
                              THEON                                        
                    Yes, but whom?                                         
                                                                           
                              LUWIN                                        
                    The realm, and Winterfell. Theon,                      
                    once I taught you sums and letters,                    
                    history and warcraft. And might                        
                    have taught you more, had you                          
                    wished to learn. I will not claim                      
                    to bear you any great love, no, but                    
                    I cannot hate you either. Even if I                    
                    did, so long as you hold Winterfell                    
                    I am bound by oath to give you                         
                    counsel. So now I counsel you to                       
                    yield.                                                 
                                                                           
                              LUWIN                                        
                    You have no hope of holding here.                      
                    If your lord father meant to send                      
                    you aid, he would have done so by                      
                    now. It is the Neck that concerns                      
                    him. The battle for the north will                     
                    be fought amidst the ruins of Moat                     
                    Cailin.                                                
                                                                           
                              THEON                                        
                    That may be so. And so long as I                       
                    hold Winterfell, Ser Rodrik and                        
                    Stark’s lords bannermen cannot                         
                              (MORE)                                       
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 34.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              THEON  (cont’d)                              
                    march south to take my uncle in the                    
                    rear. I have food enough to stand a                    
                    year’s siege, if need be.                              
                                                                           
                              LUWIN                                        
                    There will be no siege. Perhaps                        
                    they will spend a day or two                           
                    fashioning ladders and tying                           
                    grapnels to the ends of ropes. But                     
                    soon enough they will come over                        
                    your walls in a hundred places at                      
                    once. You may be able to hold the                      
                    keep for a time, but the castle                        
                    will fall within the hour. You                         
                    would do better to open your gates                     
                    and ask for--                                          
                                                                           
                              THEON                                        
                    --mercy? I know what kind of mercy                     
                    they have for me.                                      
                                                                           
                              LUWIN                                        
                    There is a way.                                        
                                                                           
                              THEON                                        
                    I am ironborn. I have my own way.                      
                    What choice have they left me? No,                     
                    don’t answer, I’ve heard enough of                     
                    your counsel. Go and send those                        
                    birds as I commanded, and tell                         
                    Lorren I want to see him. And Wex                      
                    as well. I’ll have my mail scoured                     
                    clean, and my garrison assembled in                    
                    the yard.                                              
                                                                           
                              LUWIN                                        
                    As you command.                                        
                                                                           
          They made a pitifully small assembly.                            
                                                                           
                              THEON                                        
                    The northmen will be on us before                      
                    nightfall. Ser Rodrik Cassel and                       
                    all the lords who have come to his                     
                    call. I will not run from them. I                      
                    took this castle and I mean to hold                    
                    it, to live or die as Prince of                        
                    Winterfell. But I will not command                     
                    any man to die with me. If you                         
                    leave now, before Ser Rodrik’s main                    
                    force is upon us, there’s still a                      
                    chance you may win free. Those who                     
                    would stay and fight, step forward.                    
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 35.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
          No one spoke. Wex was the first to cross the line. Black         
          Lorren followed.                                                 
                                                                           
                              THEON                                        
                    Who else?                                              
                                                                           
          Seventeen in all moved forward. Urzen was among those who        
          did not move, and Stygg, and every man of the ten that Asha      
          had brought from Deepwood Motte.                                 
                                                                           
                              THEON                                        
                    Go, then. Run to my sister. She’ll                     
                    give you all a warm welcome, I have                    
                    no doubt.                                              
                                                                           
          They all left. Theon turned to the seventeen who remained.       
                                                                           
                              THEON                                        
                    Back to the walls. If the gods                         
                    should spare us, I shall remember                      
                    every man of you.                                      
                                                                           
          Black Lorren stayed when the others had gone.                    
                                                                           
                              LORREN                                       
                    The castle folk will turn on us                        
                    soon as the fight begins.                              
                                                                           
                              THEON                                        
                    I know that. What would you have me                    
                    do?                                                    
                                                                           
                              LORREN                                       
                    Put them out. Every one.                               
                                                                           
                              THEON                                        
                    Is the noose ready?                                    
                                                                           
                              LORREN                                       
                    It is. You mean to use it?                             
                                                                           
                              THEON                                        
                    Do you know a better way?                              
                                                                           
                              LORREN                                       
                    Aye. I’ll take my axe and stand on                     
                    that drawbridge, and let them come                     
                    try me. One at a time, two, three,                     
                    it makes no matter. None will pass                     
                    the moat while I still draw breath.                    
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 36.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              THEON                                        
                    We’ll use the noose.                                   
                                                                           
                              LORREN                                       
                    As you say.                                            
                                                                           
          Theon climbed the watchtower. The northmen were spreading        
          out to encircle the castle. Cley Cerwyn appeared before the      
          gates carrying a peace banner to announce that Ser Rodrik        
          Cassel wished to parley with Theon Turncloak.                    
                                                                           
                              THEON                                        
                    I shall be out shortly. Alone.                         
                                                                           
                              LORREN                                       
                    Only blood can wash out blood.                         
                    Knights may keep their truces with                     
                    other knights, but they are not so                     
                    careful of their honor when dealing                    
                    with those they deem outlaw.                           
                                                                           
                              THEON                                        
                    I am the Prince of Winterfell and                      
                    heir to the Iron Islands. Now go                       
                    find the girl and do as I told you.                    
                                                                           
                              LORREN                                       
                    Aye, Prince.                                           
                                                                           
          The outer gates swung open to let him pass. Ser Rodrik           
          waited in the market. Beside him, young Cley Cerwyn. They        
          were alone in the square.                                        
                                                                           
                              THEON                                        
                    Ser Rodrik. It grieves me that we                      
                    must meet as foes.                                     
                                                                           
                              RODRIK                                       
                    My own grief is that I must wait a                     
                    while to hang you. Theon Turncloak.                    
                                                                           
                              THEON                                        
                    I am a Greyjoy of Pyke. The cloak                      
                    my father swaddled me in bore a                        
                    kraken, not a direwolf.                                
                                                                           
                              RODRIK                                       
                    For ten years you have been a ward                     
                    of Stark.                                              
                                                                           
                              THEON                                        
                    Hostage and prisoner, I call it.                       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 37.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              RODRIK                                       
                    Then perhaps Lord Eddard should                        
                    have kept you chained to a dungeon                     
                    wall. Instead he raised you among                      
                    his own sons, the sweet boys you                       
                    have butchered, and to my undying                      
                    shame I trained you in the arts of                     
                    war. Would that I had thrust a                         
                    sword through your belly instead of                    
                    placing one in your hand.                              
                                                                           
                              THEON                                        
                    I came out to parley, not to suffer                    
                    your insults. Say what you have to                     
                    say, old man. What would you have                      
                    of me?                                                 
                                                                           
                              RODRIK                                       
                    Two things. Winterfell, and your                       
                    life. Command your men to open the                     
                    gates and lay down their arms.                         
                    Those who murdered no children                         
                    shall be free to walk away, but you                    
                    shall be held for King Robb’s                          
                    justice. May the gods take pity on                     
                    you when he returns.                                   
                                                                           
                              THEON                                        
                    Robb will never look on Winterfell                     
                    again. He will break himself on                        
                    Moat Cailin, as every southron army                    
                    has done for ten thousand years. We                    
                    hold the north now, ser.                               
                                                                           
                              RODRIK                                       
                    You hold three castles, and this                       
                    one I mean to take back, Turncloak.                    
                                                                           
                              THEON                                        
                    Here are my terms. You have until                      
                    evenfall to disperse. Those who                        
                    swear fealty to Balon Greyjoy as                       
                    their king and to myself as Prince                     
                    of Winterfell will be confirmed in                     
                    their rights and properties and                        
                    suffer no harm. Those who defy us                      
                    will be destroyed.                                     
                                                                           
                              CERWYN                                       
                    Are you mad, Greyjoy?                                  
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 38.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              RODRIK                                       
                    Only vain, lad. Theon has always                       
                    had too lofty an opinion of                            
                    himself, I fear. Do not imagine                        
                    that I need wait for Robb to fight                     
                    his way up the Neck to deal with                       
                    the likes of you. I have near two                      
                    thousand men with me ... and if the                    
                    tales be true, you have no more                        
                    than fifty.                                            
                                                                           
                              THEON                                        
                    I have something better than men.                      
                                                                           
          He raised a fist over his head. Noosed and crying, Little        
          Beth Cassel was brought out to stand between the two small       
          heads on their spikes on the battlements.                        
                                                                           
                              RODRIK                                       
                    This is craven, To use a child so                      
                    ... this is despicable.                                
                                                                           
                              THEON                                        
                    Oh, I know. It’s a dish I tasted                       
                    myself, or have you forgotten? I                       
                    was ten when I was taken from my                       
                    father’s house, to make certain he                     
                    would raise no more rebellions.                        
                                                                           
                              RODRIK                                       
                    It is not the same!                                    
                                                                           
                              THEON                                        
                    The noose I wore was not made of                       
                    hempen rope, that’s true enough,                       
                    but I felt it all the same. And it                     
                    chafed, Ser Rodrik. It chafed me                       
                    raw.                                                   
                                                                           
                              RODRIK                                       
                    No harm was ever done you.                             
                                                                           
                              THEON                                        
                    And no harm will be done your Beth,                    
                    so long as you--                                       
                                                                           
                              RODRIK                                       
                    Viper. I gave you the chance to                        
                    save your men and die with some                        
                    small shred of honor, Turncloak. I                     
                    should have known that was too much                    
                    to ask of a childkiller. I ought                       
                    cut you down here and now and put                      
                              (MORE)                                       
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 39.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              RODRIK  (cont’d)                             
                    an end to your lies and deceits. By                    
                    the gods, I should.                                    
                                                                           
                              THEON                                        
                    Forswear your oath and murder me,                      
                    and you will watch your little Beth                    
                    strangle at the end of a rope.                         
                                                                           
                              RODRIK                                       
                    Truly, I have lived too long.                          
                                                                           
                              THEON                                        
                    I will not disagree, ser. Will you                     
                    accept my terms?                                       
                                                                           
                              RODRIK                                       
                    I have a duty to Lady Catelyn and                      
                    House Stark.                                           
                                                                           
                              THEON                                        
                    And your own House? Beth is the                        
                    last of your blood.                                    
                                                                           
                              RODRIK                                       
                    I offer myself in my daughter’s                        
                    place. Release her, and take me as                     
                    your hostage. Surely the castellan                     
                    of Winterfell is worth more than a                     
                    child.                                                 
                                                                           
                              THEON                                        
                    Not to me. Not to Lord Manderly or                     
                    Leobald Tallhart either, I’d wager.                    
                    No, I’ll keep the girl ... and keep                    
                    her safe, so long as you do as I’ve                    
                    commanded you. Her life is in your                     
                    hands.                                                 
                                                                           
                              RODRIK                                       
                    Gods be good, Theon, how can you do                    
                    this? You know I must attack, have                     
                    sworn ...                                              
                                                                           
                              THEON                                        
                    If this host is still in arms                          
                    before my gate when the sun sets,                      
                    Beth will hang. Another hostage                        
                    will follow her to the grave at                        
                    first light, and another at sunset.                    
                    Every dawn and every dusk will mean                    
                    a death, until you are gone. I have                    
                    no lack of hostages.                                   
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 40.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
          He rode back toward the castle. In the yard he dismounted        
          and handed his reins to Wex.                                     
                                                                           
                              THEON                                        
                    It may stay them. We’ll know by                        
                    sunset. Take the girl in till then,                    
                    and keep her somewhere safe. I need                    
                    a cup of wine. A vat of wine would                     
                    do even better.                                        
                                                                           
          A fire had been laid in Ned Stark’s bedchamber.                  
                                                                           
                              THEON                                        
                    I rode beside Robb Stark in the                        
                    Whispering Wood.                                       
                                                                           
          Theon took himself to the old inner ward with his bow.           
                                                                           
                              LUWIN                                        
                    If you had a hundred archers as                        
                    good as yourself, you might have a                     
                    chance to hold the castle.                             
                                                                           
          When he turned, Maester Luwin was behind him.                    
                                                                           
                              THEON                                        
                    Go away. I have had enough of your                     
                    counsel.                                               
                                                                           
                              LUWIN                                        
                    And life? Have you had enough of                       
                    that, my lord prince?                                  
                                                                           
                              THEON                                        
                    One more word and I’ll put this                        
                    shaft through your heart.                              
                                                                           
                              LUWIN                                        
                    You won’t.                                             
                                                                           
                              THEON                                        
                    Care to make a wager?                                  
                                                                           
                              LUWIN                                        
                    I am your last hope, Theon.                            
                                                                           
                              THEON                                        
                    I will not run.                                        
                                                                           
                              LUWIN                                        
                    I do not speak of running. Take the                    
                    black.                                                 
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 41.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              THEON                                        
                    The Night’s Watch?                                     
                                                                           
                              LUWIN                                        
                    Ser Rodrik has served House Stark                      
                    all his life, and House Stark has                      
                    always been a friend to the Watch.                     
                    He will not deny you. Open your                        
                    gates, lay down your arms, accept                      
                    his terms, and he must let you take                    
                    the black.                                             
                                                                           
          Then Kromm was loping across the ward.                           
                                                                           
                              KROMM                                        
                    PRINCE THEON! The northmen--                           
                                                                           
                              THEON                                        
                    Is it the attack?                                      
                                                                           
                              LUWIN                                        
                    There’s still time. Raise a peace                      
                    banner--                                               
                                                                           
                              KROMM                                        
                    They’re fighting. More men came up,                    
                    hundreds of them, and at first they                    
                    made to join the others. But now                       
                    they’ve fallen on them!                                
                                                                           
                              THEON                                        
                    Is it Asha?                                            
                                                                           
                              KROMM                                        
                    No. These are northmen, I tell you.                    
                    With a bloody man on their banner.                     
                                                                           
                              THEON                                        
                    I’ll see this for myself.                              
                                                                           
          They reached the battlements and dead men and dying horses       
          were strewn about the market square outside the gates. Ser       
          Rodrik seemed to have the numbers, but the Dreadfort men         
          were better led. Black Lorren appeared beside him.               
                                                                           
                              THEON                                        
                    The Dothraki believe the stars are                     
                    spirits of the valiant dead.                           
                                                                           
                              LORREN                                       
                    Dothraki?                                              
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 42.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              THEON                                        
                    The horselords across the narrow                       
                    sea.                                                   
                                                                           
                              LORREN                                       
                    Oh. Them. Savages believe all                          
                    manner of foolish things.                              
                                                                           
          That night, a column of mounted men rode out of the drifting     
          smoke. Outside the main gate he reined up, and one of his        
          men shouted for the castle to open.                              
                                                                           
                              LORREN                                       
                    Are you friend or foe?                                 
                                                                           
                              REEK                                         
                    Would a foe bring such fine gifts?                     
                                                                           
          Three corpses were then dumped in front of the gates. A          
          torch was waved above the bodies, so the defenders upon the      
          walls might see the faces of the dead.                           
                                                                           
                              LORREN                                       
                    The old castellan.                                     
                                                                           
                              THEON                                        
                    With Leobald Tallhart and Cley                         
                    Cerwyn.                                                
                                                                           
          Maester Luwin gave a cry of dismay and fell to his knees.        
                                                                           
                              REEK                                         
                    The great pig Manderly was too                         
                    craven to leave White Harbor, or we                    
                    would have brought him as well.                        
                                                                           
                              THEON                                        
                    Open the gates for our friends.                        
                                                                           
          The Dreadfort men made their way across the moat and through     
          the inner gates. Theon descended with Black Lorren and           
          Maester Luwin to meet them in the yard.                          
                                                                           
                              THEON                                        
                    How many men did you lose?                             
                                                                           
                              REEK                                         
                    Twenty or thirty.                                      
                                                                           
                              THEON                                        
                    Ser Rodrik had you five-to-one.                        
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 43.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              REEK                                         
                    Aye, but he thought us friends. A                      
                    common mistake. When the old fool                      
                    gave me his hand, I took half his                      
                    arm instead. Then I let him see my                     
                    face.                                                  
                                                                           
          The man took off his helm.                                       
                                                                           
                              THEON                                        
                    Reek.                                                  
                                                                           
                              REEK                                         
                    The wretch is dead. The girl’s                         
                    fault. If she had not run so far,                      
                    his horse would not have lamed, and                    
                    we might have been able to flee. I                     
                    gave him mine when I saw the riders                    
                    from the ridge. I was done with her                    
                    by then, and he liked to take his                      
                    turn while they were still warm. I                     
                    had to pull him off her and shove                      
                    my clothes into his hands--calfskin                    
                    boots and velvet doublet,                              
                    silver-chased swordbelt, even my                       
                    sable cloak. Ride for the                              
                    Dreadfort, I told him, bring all                       
                    the help you can. Take my horse,                       
                    he’s swifter, and here, wear the                       
                    ring my father gave me, so they’ll                     
                    know you came from me. He’d learned                    
                    better than to question me. By the                     
                    time they put that arrow through                       
                    his back, I’d smeared myself with                      
                    the girl’s filth and dressed in his                    
                    rags. They might have hanged me                        
                    anyway, but it was the only chance                     
                    I saw. And now, my sweet prince,                       
                    there was a woman promised me, if I                    
                    brought two hundred men. Well, I                       
                    brought three times as many, and no                    
                    green boys nor fieldhands neither,                     
                    but my father’s own garrison.                          
                                                                           
                              THEON                                        
                    Harrag, go to the kennels and bring                    
                    Palla out for ... ?                                    
                                                                           
                              RAMSAY                                       
                    Ramsay. Snow, my wife called me                        
                    before she ate her fingers, but I                      
                    say Bolton. So you’d offer me a                        
                    kennel girl for my good service, is                    
                    that the way of it?                                    
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 44.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              THEON                                        
                    She was what was promised.                             
                                                                           
                              RAMSAY                                       
                    She smells of dogshit. I’ve had                        
                    enough of bad smells, as it                            
                    happens. I think I’ll have your                        
                    bedwarmer instead. What do you call                    
                    her? Kyra?                                             
                                                                           
                              THEON                                        
                    Are you mad? I’ll have you--                           
                                                                           
          The Bastard backhanded him and his cheekbone shattered.          
          Theon found himself on the ground. The Dreadfort men had cut     
          down Red Rolfe and Kenned, and more were pouring through.        
                                                                           
          Black Lorren had his sword out, but there were already four      
          of them pressing in on him. He saw Ulf go down with a            
          crossbow bolt through the belly. Maester Luwin was trying to     
          reach him when a knight planted a spear between his              
          shoulders, then swung back to ride over him.                     
                                                                           
                              RAMSAY                                       
                    Save me the Freys, and burn the                        
                    rest. Burn it, burn it all.                            
                                                                           
                                                                           
          68 - TYRION XV                                                   
                                                                           
          When he woke, Podrick Payne stood over him with a candle.        
          When he saw Tyrion open his eyes he ran off. He raised a         
          hand to his face, his every movement pained and fumbling.        
          The lower half of his face was bandaged tightly. A short         
          while later Pod reappeared. This time a stranger was with        
          him, a maester chained and robed.                                
                                                                           
                              MAESTER                                      
                    My lord, you must be still. You are                    
                    grievous hurt. You will do yourself                    
                    great injury. Are you thirsty?                         
                                                                           
          He managed an awkward nod. The maester inserted a curved         
          copper funnel through the feeding hole over his mouth and        
          poured a slow trickle down his throat. Then he was asleep.       
          He dreamed of a snug little cottage by the sunset sea.           
                                                                           
                              TYSHA                                        
                    We have no servants.                                   
                                                                           
                              TYRION                                       
                    You have me, I’m your servant.                         
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 45.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                               TYSHA                                       
                    A lazy servant. What do they do                        
                    with lazy servants in Casterly                         
                    Rock, my lord?                                         
                                                                           
                              TYRION                                       
                    They kiss them.                                        
                                                                           
                              TYSHA                                        
                    They do not neither. They beat                         
                    them, I bet.                                           
                                                                           
                              TYRION                                       
                    No, they kiss them, just like this.                    
                    They kiss their fingers first,                         
                    every one, and they kiss their                         
                    wrists, yes, and inside their                          
                    elbows. Then they kiss their funny                     
                    ears, all our servants have funny                      
                    ears. Stop laughing! And they kiss                     
                    their cheeks and they kiss their                       
                    noses with the little bump in them,                    
                    there, so, like that, and they kiss                    
                    their sweet brows and their hair                       
                    and their lips, their ... mmmm ...                     
                    mouths ... so ...                                      
                                                                           
                              TYSHA                                        
                    I love you, Tyrion, I love your                        
                    lips. I love your voice, and the                       
                    words you say to me, and how you                       
                    treat me gentle. I love your face.                     
                                                                           
                              TYRION                                       
                    My face?                                               
                                                                           
                              TYSHA                                        
                    Yes. Yes. I love your hands, and                       
                    how you touch me. Your cock, I love                    
                    your cock, I love how it feels when                    
                    it’s in me.                                            
                                                                           
                              TYRION                                       
                    It loves you too, my lady.                             
                                                                           
                              TYSHA                                        
                    I love to say your name. Tyrion                        
                    Lannister. It goes with mine. Not                      
                    the Lannister, t’other part. Tyrion                    
                    and Tysha. Tysha and Tyrion.                           
                    Tyrion. My lord Tyrion ...                             
                                                                           
          Her face seemed to fade away, dissolving.                        
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 46.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              TYSHA                                        
                    ... my lord, can you hear me? My                       
                    lord? Tyrion? My lord? My lord?                        
                                                                           
          He woke and saw a soft pink face leaning over him.               
                                                                           
                              MAESTER                                      
                    Do you thirst, my lord? I have your                    
                    milk, your good milk. You must not                     
                    fight, no, don’t try to move, you                      
                    need your rest.                                        
                                                                           
          As the man leaned close, Tyrion’s fingers slid underneath        
          his chain and pulled. The maester dropped the flask,             
          spilling milk of the poppy all over the blanket.                 
                                                                           
                              TYRION                                       
                    No. More.                                              
                                                                           
                              MAESTER                                      
                    Unhand, please, my lord ... need                       
                    your milk, the pain ... the chain,                     
                    don’t, unhand, no ...                                  
                                                                           
          He let go of the chain. The maester reeled back. Tyrion          
          raised a hand to his face and made a ripping motion over the     
          hardened mask. And again. And again.                             
                                                                           
                              MAESTER                                      
                    You ... you want the bandages off,                     
                    is that it? But I’m not to ... that                    
                    would be ... be most unwise, my                        
                    lord. You are not yet healed, the                      
                    queen would ...                                        
                                                                           
          He pointed a finger at the maester, then coiled his hand         
          into a fist.                                                     
                                                                           
                              MAESTER                                      
                    I ... I will do as my lord                             
                    commands, to be sure, but ... this                     
                    is unwise, your wounds ...                             
                                                                           
                              TYRION                                       
                    Do. It.                                                
                                                                           
          The man left to return bearing a long knife„ a basin of          
          water, a pile of soft cloths, and several flasks. He slid        
          the tip of the knife in under his chin, beneath the mask and     
          began to cut it away.                                            
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 47.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              MAESTER                                      
                    Be still now, I must wash out the                      
                    wound. This is like to sting some.                     
                    It would have been wiser to leave                      
                    the mask in place until the flesh                      
                    had knit, my lord. Still, it looks                     
                    clean, good, good. When we found                       
                    you down in that cellar among the                      
                    dead and dying, your wounds were                       
                    filthy. One of your ribs was                           
                    broken, doubtless you can feel it,                     
                    the blow of some mace perhaps, or a                    
                    fall, it’s hard to say. And you                        
                    took an arrow in the arm, there                        
                    where it joins the shoulder. It                        
                    showed signs of mortification, and                     
                    for a time I feared you might lose                     
                    the limb, but we treated it with                       
                    boiling wine and maggots, and now                      
                    it seems to be healing clean ...                       
                                                                           
                              TYRION                                       
                    Name. Name.                                            
                                                                           
                              MAESTER                                      
                    Why, you are Tyrion Lannister, my                      
                    lord. Brother to the queen. Do you                     
                    remember the battle? Sometimes with                    
                    head wounds--                                          
                                                                           
                              TYRION                                       
                    Your name.                                             
                                                                           
                              BALLABAR                                     
                    I am Maester Ballabar.                                 
                                                                           
                              TYRION                                       
                    Ballabar. Bring me. Looking glass.                     
                                                                           
                              BALLABAR                                     
                    My lord, I would not counsel ...                       
                    that might be, ah, unwise, as it                       
                    were ... your wound ...                                
                                                                           
                              TYRION                                       
                    Bring it. And drink. Wine. No                          
                    poppy.                                                 
                                                                           
          The maester hurried off. He came back with a flagon of pale      
          amber wine and a small silvered looking glass. The maester       
          poured half a cup of wine and held it to Tyrion’s lips.          
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 48.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              TYRION                                       
                    More.                                                  
                                                                           
          He drank more He turned over the glass. The gash was long        
          and crooked, starting under his left eye and ending on the       
          right side of his jaw. Three-quarters of his nose was gone,      
          and a chunk of his lip.                                          
                                                                           
                              TYRION                                       
                    Pretty.                                                
                                                                           
                              BALLABAR                                     
                    My lord, there, there will most                        
                    like be a scar ...                                     
                                                                           
                              TYRION                                       
                    Most like? Teach me, not to, play                      
                    with, axes. Where, are we? What,                       
                    what place?                                            
                                                                           
                              BALLABAR                                     
                    Ah, you are in Maegor’s Holdfast,                      
                    my lord. A chamber over the Queen’s                    
                    Ballroom. Her Grace wanted you kept                    
                    close, so she might watch over you                     
                    herself.                                               
                                                                           
                              TYRION                                       
                    Return me. Own bed. Own chambers.                      
                                                                           
                              BALLBAR                                      
                    Your own ... my lord, that would                       
                    not be possible. The King’s Hand                       
                    has taken up residence in your                         
                    former chambers.                                       
                                                                           
                              TYRION                                       
                    I. Am. King’s Hand.                                    
                                                                           
                              BALLABAR                                     
                    No, my lord, I ... you were                            
                    wounded, near death. Your lord                         
                    father has taken up those duties                       
                    now. Lord Tywin, he ...                                
                                                                           
                              TYRION                                       
                    Here?                                                  
                                                                           
                              BALLBAR                                      
                    Since the night of the battle. Lord                    
                    Tywin saved us all. The smallfolk                      
                    say it was King Renly’s ghost, but                     
                    wiser men know better. It was your                     
                              (MORE)                                       
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 49.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              BALLBAR  (cont’d)                            
                    father and Lord Tyrell, with the                       
                    Knight of Flowers and Lord                             
                    Littlefinger. They rode through the                    
                    ashes and took the usurper Stannis                     
                    in the rear. It was a great                            
                    victory, and now Lord Tywin has                        
                    settled into the Tower of the Hand                     
                    to help His Grace set the realm to                     
                    rights, gods be praised.                               
                                                                           
                              TYRION                                       
                    Gods be praised. I want ... my                         
                    squire. Pod. Payne.                                    
                                                                           
                              BALLABAR                                     
                    The boy? The odd boy?                                  
                                                                           
                              TYRION                                       
                    Odd boy. Podrick. Payne. You go.                       
                    Send him.                                              
                                                                           
                              BALLABAR                                     
                    As you will, my lord.                                  
                                                                           
          Maester Ballabar hurried out. Podrick Payne entered.             
                                                                           
                              PODRICK                                      
                    My lord? I meant to stay by you,                       
                    but the maester sent me away.                          
                                                                           
                              TYRION                                       
                    Send him away. Hear me. Talk’s                         
                    hard. Need dreamwine. Dreamwine,                       
                    not milk of the poppy. Go to                           
                    Frenken. Frenken, not Ballabar.                        
                    Watch him make it. Bring it here. I                    
                    want, mine own. Guard. Bronn.                          
                    Where’s Bronn?                                         
                                                                           
                              PODRICK                                      
                    They made him a knight.                                
                                                                           
                              TYRION                                       
                    Find him. Bring him.                                   
                                                                           
                              PODRICK                                      
                    As you say. My lord. Bronn.                            
                                                                           
                              TYRION                                       
                    Ser Mandon?                                            
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 50.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              PODRICK                                      
                    I n-never meant to k-k-k-k--                           
                                                                           
                              TYRION                                       
                    Dead? You’re, certain? Dead?                           
                                                                           
                              PODRICK                                      
                    Drowned.                                               
                                                                           
                              TYRION                                       
                    Good. Say nothing. Of him. Of me.                      
                    Any of it. Nothing.                                    
                                                                           
                                                                           
          69 - JON VIII                                                    
                                                                           
          Jon and Qhorin made a fire. Only the two of them remained of     
          the five rangers who had fled the Skirling Pass.                 
                                                                           
                              QHORIN                                       
                    As shy as a maid on her wedding                        
                    night, and near as fair. Sometimes                     
                    a man forgets how pretty a fire can                    
                    be.                                                    
                                                                           
          They had glimpsed the eagle twice more, and heard the            
          hunting horn behind them. When night fell, the Halfhand told     
          Ebben to take the squire’s garron and ride east for Mormont      
          with all haste. The rest of them would draw off the pursuit.     
                                                                           
                              EBBEN                                        
                    Send Jon. He can ride as fast as                       
                    me.                                                    
                                                                           
                              QHORIN                                       
                    Jon has a different part to play.                      
                                                                           
                              EBBEN                                        
                    He is half a boy still.                                
                                                                           
                              QHORIN                                       
                    No, he is a man of the Night’s                         
                    Watch.                                                 
                                                                           
          Stonesnake offered to lay in wait for the pursuit and            
          surprise them when they came. Perhaps he could take a few of     
          them with him down to hell. Qhorin refused.                      
                                                                           
                              QHORIN                                       
                    If any man in the Night’s Watch can                    
                    make it through the Frostfangs                         
                    alone and afoot, it is you,                            
                    brother. You can go over mountains                     
                              (MORE)                                       
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 51.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              QHORIN  (cont’d)                             
                    that a horse must go around. Make                      
                    for the Fist. Tell Mormont what Jon                    
                    saw, and how. Tell him that the old                    
                    powers are waking, that he faces                       
                    giants and wargs and worse. Tell                       
                    him that the trees have eyes again.                    
                                                                           
          Jon watched Stonesnake vanish over a snow-covered ridge.         
          Qhorin Halfhand stared across the flickering fire.               
                                                                           
                              QHORIN                                       
                    Is your sword sharp, Jon Snow?                         
                                                                           
                              JON                                          
                    My sword is Valyrian steel. The Old                    
                    Bear gave it to me.                                    
                                                                           
                              QHORIN                                       
                    Do you remember the words of your                      
                    vow?                                                   
                                                                           
                              JON                                          
                    Yes.                                                   
                                                                           
                              QHORIN                                       
                    Say them again with me, Jon Snow.                      
                                                                           
                              JON                                          
                    If you like. Night gathers, and now                    
                    my watch begins. It shall not end                      
                    until my death. I shall take no                        
                    wife, hold no lands, father no                         
                    children. I shall wear no crowns                       
                    and win no glory. I shall live and                     
                    die at my post. I am the sword in                      
                    the darkness. I am the watcher on                      
                    the walls. I am the fire that burns                    
                    against the cold, the light that                       
                    brings the dawn, the horn that                         
                    wakes the sleepers, the shield that                    
                    guards the realms of men. I pledge                     
                    my life and honor to the Night’s                       
                    Watch, for this night and all the                      
                    nights to come.                                        
                                                                           
                              QHORIN                                       
                    The fire will soon go out, but if                      
                    the Wall should ever fall, all the                     
                    fires will go out. We may escape                       
                    them yet. Or not.                                      
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 52.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              JON                                          
                    I’m not afraid to die.                                 
                                                                           
                              QHORIN                                       
                    It may not be so easy as that, Jon.                    
                                                                           
                              JON                                          
                    What do you mean?                                      
                                                                           
                              QHORIN                                       
                    If we are taken, you must yield.                       
                                                                           
                              JON                                          
                    Yield? They only spare                                 
                    oathbreakers. Those who join them,                     
                    like Mance Rayder.                                     
                                                                           
                              QHORIN                                       
                    And you.                                               
                                                                           
                              JON                                          
                    No. Never. I won’t.                                    
                                                                           
                              QHORIN                                       
                    You will. I command it of you.                         
                                                                           
                              JON                                          
                    Command it? But ...                                    
                                                                           
                              QHORIN                                       
                    Our honor means no more than our                       
                    lives, so long as the realm is                         
                    safe. Are you a man of the Night’s                     
                    Watch?                                                 
                                                                           
                              JON                                          
                    Yes, but--                                             
                                                                           
                              QHORIN                                       
                    There is no but, Jon Snow. You are,                    
                    or you are not.                                        
                                                                           
                              JON                                          
                    I am.                                                  
                                                                           
                              QHORIN                                       
                    Then hear me. If we are taken, you                     
                    will go over to them, as the                           
                    wildling girl you captured once                        
                    urged you. They may demand that you                    
                    cut your cloak to ribbons, that you                    
                    swear them an oath on your father’s                    
                    grave, that you curse your brothers                    
                              (MORE)                                       
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 53.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              QHORIN  (cont’d)                             
                    and your Lord Commander. You must                      
                    not balk, whatever is asked of you.                    
                    Do as they bid you ... but in your                     
                    heart, remember who and what you                       
                    are. Ride with them, eat with them,                    
                    fight with them, for as long as it                     
                    takes. And watch.                                      
                                                                           
                              JON                                          
                    For what?                                              
                                                                           
                              QHORIN                                       
                    Would that I knew, Your wolf saw                       
                    their diggings in the valley of the                    
                    Milkwater. What did they seek, in                      
                    such a bleak and distant place? Did                    
                    they find it? That is what you must                    
                    learn, before you return to Lord                       
                    Mormont and your brothers. That is                     
                    the duty I lay on you, Jon Snow.                       
                                                                           
                              JON                                          
                    I’ll do as you say, but ... you                        
                    will tell them, won’t you? The Old                     
                    Bear, at least? You’ll tell him                        
                    that I never broke my oath.                            
                                                                           
                              QHORIN                                       
                    When I see him next. I swear it.                       
                    More wood. I want it bright and                        
                    hot.                                                   
                                                                           
          Jon went to cut more branches, tossing it into the flames.       
                                                                           
                              QHORIN                                       
                    Enough. Now we ride.                                   
                                                                           
                              JON                                          
                    Ride? Ride where?                                      
                                                                           
                              QHORIN                                       
                    Back. The fire will draw them past,                    
                    I hope. Come, brother.                                 
                                                                           
          They went until they reached an icy little stream emerged        
          from between two mountains.                                      
                                                                           
                              QHORIN                                       
                    The water’s icing up, else we’d                        
                    ride in the streambed. But if we                       
                    break the ice, they are like to                        
                    see. Keep close to the cliffs.                         
                              (MORE)                                       
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 54.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              QHORIN  (cont’d)                             
                    There’s a crook a half mile on that                    
                    will hide us.                                          
                                                                           
          Beyond, the walls pinched in sharply, and the stream led         
          them to the foot of a tall twisting waterfall.                   
                                                                           
                              QHORIN                                       
                    Quickly now.                                           
                                                                           
          Qhorin rode over the ice-slick stones, right into the            
          curtain of water, and vanished. When he did not reappear,        
          Jon went after. Then he was through.                             
                                                                           
          The cleft in the rock was barely large enough for man and        
          horse to pass, but beyond, the walls opened up and the floor     
          turned to soft sand.                                             
                                                                           
                              JON                                          
                    You knew this place was here.                          
                                                                           
                              QHORIN                                       
                    When I was no older than you, I                        
                    heard a brother tell how he                            
                    followed a shadowcat through these                     
                    falls. There is a way through the                      
                    heart of the mountain. Come dawn,                      
                    if they have not found us, we will                     
                    press on. The first watch is mine,                     
                    brother.                                               
                                                                           
          Qhorin seated himself on the sand. It was still dark when        
          Qhorin woke him. While the Halfhand slept, Jon sat with his      
          back to the cave wall. At break of day, they saddled their       
          garrons once again.                                              
                                                                           
          But when they emerged back into the light long hours later,      
          the eagle was waiting for them, perched on a dead tree.          
          Ghost went bounding up the rocks after it, but the bird          
          flapped its wings and took to the air.                           
                                                                           
                              QHORIN                                       
                    Here is as good a place as any to                      
                    make a stand. The mouth of the cave                    
                    shelters us from above, and they                       
                    cannot get behind us without                           
                    passing through the mountain. Is                       
                    your sword sharp, Jon Snow?                            
                                                                           
                              JON                                          
                    Yes.                                                   
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 55.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              QHORIN                                       
                    We’ll feed the horses. They’ve                         
                    served us bravely, poor beasts.                        
                                                                           
          A hunting horn echoed through the mountains, and a moment        
          later Jon heard the baying of hounds.                            
                                                                           
                              QHORIN                                       
                    They will be with us soon. Keep                        
                    your wolf in hand.                                     
                                                                           
                              JON                                          
                    Ghost, to me.                                          
                                                                           
          The wildlings came boiling over a ridge not half a mile          
          away. Their hounds ran before them. Ghost bared his teeth.       
                                                                           
                              JON                                          
                    Easy. Stay.                                            
                                                                           
          The eagle landed on an outcrop of rock and screamed. The         
          hunters approached. Jon counted fourteen, with eight dogs.       
          Qhorin drew his longsword. Jon pulled out Longclaw. Their        
          leader came on alone, armored in bones.                          
                                                                           
                              QHORIN                                       
                    Rattleshirt.                                           
                                                                           
                              RATTLESHIRT                                  
                    To crows I be the Lord o’ Bones.                       
                                                                           
                              QHORIN                                       
                    I see no lord. Only a dog dressed                      
                    in chickenbones, who rattles when                      
                    he rides.                                              
                                                                           
                              RATTLESHIRT                                  
                    It’s your bones I’ll be rattling                       
                    soon, Halfhand. I’ll boil the flesh                    
                    off you and make a byrnie from your                    
                    ribs. I’ll carve your teeth to cast                    
                    me runes, and eat me oaten porridge                    
                    from your skull.                                       
                                                                           
                              QHORIN                                       
                    If you want my bones, come get                         
                    them.                                                  
                                                                           
                              WOMAN                                        
                    We are four-and-ten to two, crows,                     
                    and eight dogs to your wolf. Fight                     
                    or run, you are ours.                                  
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 56.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              RATTLESHIRT                                  
                    Show them.                                             
                                                                           
          The woman reached into a bloodstained sack and drew out          
          Ebben’s head dangling the head by an ear.                        
                                                                           
                              WOMAN                                        
                    He died brave.                                         
                                                                           
                              RATTLESHIRT                                  
                    But he died, same like you.                            
                                                                           
          He freed his battleaxe. The other wildlings crowded forward      
          beside him, yelling taunts.                                      
                                                                           
                              WILDLING                                     
                    Is that your wolf, boy? He’ll be my                    
                    cloak before the sun is down.                          
                                                                           
                              WOMAN                                        
                    Does the baby want his momma? Come,                    
                    have a suck o’ this, boy.                              
                                                                           
                              QHORIN                                       
                    They would shame us into folly.                        
                    Remember your orders.                                  
                                                                           
                              RATTLESHIRT                                  
                    Belike we need to flush the crows.                     
                    Feather them!                                          
                                                                           
                              JON                                          
                    No! We yield!                                          
                                                                           
                              QHORIN                                       
                    They warned me bastard blood was                       
                    craven. I see it is so. Run to your                    
                    new masters, coward.                                   
                                                                           
          Jon descended the slope to where Rattleshirt sat his horse.      
                                                                           
                              RATTLESHIRT                                  
                    The free folk have no need of                          
                    cravens.                                               
                                                                           
                              YGRITTE                                      
                    He is no craven.                                       
                                                                           
          One of the archers pulled off her helm and shook out a head      
          of shaggy red hair.                                              
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 57.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              YGRITTE                                      
                    This is the Bastard o’ Winterfell,                     
                    who spared me. Let him live.                           
                                                                           
                              RATTLESHIRT                                  
                    Let him die. The black crow is a                       
                    tricksy bird. I trust him not.                         
                                                                           
          The eagle screeched.                                             
                                                                           
                              YGRITTE                                      
                    The bird hates you, Jon Snow. And                      
                    well he might. He was a man, before                    
                    you killed him.                                        
                                                                           
                              JON                                          
                    I did not know. You told me Mance                      
                    would take me.                                         
                                                                           
                              YGRITTE                                      
                    And he will.                                           
                                                                           
                              RATTLESHIRT                                  
                    Mance is not here. Ragwyle, gut                        
                    him.                                                   
                                                                           
          The big spearwife narrowed her eyes.                             
                                                                           
                              WOMAN                                        
                    If the crow would join the free                        
                    folk, let him show us his prowess                      
                    and prove the truth of him.                            
                                                                           
                              JON                                          
                    I’ll do whatever you ask.                              
                                                                           
                              RATTLESHIRT                                  
                    Then kill the Halfhand, bastard.                       
                                                                           
                              QHORIN                                       
                    As if he could. Turn, Snow, and                        
                    die.                                                   
                                                                           
          Then Qhorin’s sword was coming at him and Longclaw leapt         
          upward to block. It sent him staggering backward. Back and       
          forth they went. Ghost’s teeth closed savagely around the        
          ranger’s calf, yet somehow Qhorin kept his feet. But, as he      
          twisted, the opening was there. Jon planted and pivoted. The     
          ranger was leaning away, and it seemed that Jon’s slash had      
          not touched him. Then a string of red tears appeared across      
          the big man’s throat and the blood gushed out of him, and        
          Qhorin Halfhand fell.                                            
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 58.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              QHORIN                                       
                    ... sharp.                                             
                                                                           
          Then his hand fell, and he was gone.                             
                                                                           
                              RATTLESHIRT                                  
                    Get him up.                                            
                                                                           
          Rough hands dragged him to his feet. Jon did not resist.         
                                                                           
                              RATTLESHIRT                                  
                    Do you have a name?                                    
                                                                           
                              YGRITTE                                      
                    His name is Jon Snow. He is Eddard                     
                    Stark’s blood, of Winterfell.                          
                                                                           
                              RAGWYLE                                      
                    Who would have thought it? Qhorin                      
                    Halfhand slain by some lordling’s                      
                    byblow.                                                
                                                                           
                              RATTLESHIRT                                  
                    Gut him.                                               
                                                                           
                              YGRITTE                                      
                    He yielded.                                            
                                                                           
                              WILDING                                      
                    Aye, and slew his brother.                             
                                                                           
                              RATTLESHIRT                                  
                    The wolf did his work for him. It                      
                    were foully done. The Halfhand’s                       
                    death was mine.                                        
                                                                           
                              RAGWYLE                                      
                    We all saw how eager you were to                       
                    take it.                                               
                                                                           
                              RATTLESHIRT                                  
                    He is a warg, and a crow. I like                       
                    him not.                                               
                                                                           
                              YGRITTE                                      
                    A warg he may be, but that has                         
                    never frightened us.                                   
                                                                           
          They burned Qhorin Halfhand where he’d fallen.                   
                                                                           
                              JON                                          
                    Will we return by the Skirling                         
                    Pass?                                                  
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 59.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              YGRITTE                                      
                    No. There’s nothing behind us. By                      
                    now Mance is well down the                             
                    Milkwater, marching on your Wall.                      
                                                                           
                                                                           
          70 - BRAN VII                                                    
                                                                           
          He padded over to the edge of the wood. He sniffed at the        
          drifting smoke. Men, many men, many horses, and fire, fire,      
          fire. His brother ran with him, drawn to the smell of blood      
          and death. Winterfell had all been burned.                       
                                                                           
                              MEERA                                        
                    Bran. Bran, come back. Come back                       
                    now, Bran. Bran ...                                    
                                                                           
          He closed his third eye and opened the other two. Someone        
          was holding him. He could hear Hodor singing.                    
                                                                           
                              HODOR                                        
                    Hodor, hodor, hodor.                                   
                                                                           
                              MEERA                                        
                    Bran? You were thrashing, making                       
                    terrible noises. What did you see?                     
                                                                           
                              BRAN                                         
                    Winterfell. It was Winterfell. It                      
                    was all on fire. There were horse                      
                    smells, and steel, and blood. They                     
                    killed everyone, Meera.                                
                                                                           
                              MEERA                                        
                    You’re all sweaty. Do you need a                       
                    drink?                                                 
                                                                           
                              BRAN                                         
                    A drink.                                               
                                                                           
          She held a skin to his lips, and Bran swallowed.                 
                                                                           
                              BRAN                                         
                    How long?                                              
                                                                           
                              JOJEN                                        
                    Three days. We were afraid for you.                    
                                                                           
                              BRAN                                         
                    I was with Summer.                                     
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 60.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              JOJEN                                        
                    Too long. You’ll starve yourself.                      
                    Meera dribbled a little water down                     
                    your throat, and we smeared honey                      
                    on your mouth, but it is not                           
                    enough.                                                
                                                                           
                              BRAN                                         
                    I ate. We ran down an elk and had                      
                    to drive off a treecat that tried                      
                    to steal him.                                          
                                                                           
                              JOJEN                                        
                    The wolf ate. Not you. Take care,                      
                    Bran. Remember who you are.                            
                                                                           
                              BRAN                                         
                    I have to tell Osha what I saw. Is                     
                    she here? Where did she go?                            
                                                                           
                              OSHA                                         
                    Nowhere, m’lord. I’ve had my fill                      
                    o’ blundering in the black. Last                       
                    night I pissed on a king’s foot.                       
                    Might be it was morning, who can                       
                    say? I was sleeping, but now I’m                       
                    not.                                                   
                                                                           
                              BRAN                                         
                    Osha, I saw Winterfell burning.                        
                                                                           
                              OSHA                                         
                    A dream.                                               
                                                                           
                              BRAN                                         
                    A wolf dream. I smelled it too.                        
                    Nothing smells like fire, or blood.                    
                                                                           
                              OSHA                                         
                    Whose blood?                                           
                                                                           
                              BRAN                                         
                    Men, horses, dogs, everyone. We                        
                    have to go see.                                        
                                                                           
                              OSHA                                         
                    This scrawny skin of mine’s the                        
                    only one I got. That squid prince                      
                    catches hold o’ me, they’ll strip                      
                    it off my back with a whip.                            
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 61.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              MEERA                                        
                    I’ll go if you’re afraid.                              
                                                                           
          Bran heard the sound of steel on flint. A spark flew,            
          caught. The light woke Rickon. The six fugitives huddled         
          round their little cache of bread and water and dried meat.      
                                                                           
                              OSHA                                         
                    Little enough left. I’d need to go                     
                    up soon to steal food in any case,                     
                    or we’d be down to eating Hodor.                       
                                                                           
                              HODOR                                        
                    Hodor.                                                 
                                                                           
                              OSHA                                         
                    Is it day or night up there? I’ve                      
                    lost all count o’ such.                                
                                                                           
                              BRAN                                         
                    Day, but it’s dark from all the                        
                    smoke.                                                 
                                                                           
                              OSHA                                         
                    M’lord is certain?                                     
                                                                           
                              BRAN                                         
                    Certain.                                               
                                                                           
                              OSHA                                         
                    I’ll risk a look then. I want the                      
                    lot o’ you close behind. Meera, get                    
                    Bran’s basket.                                         
                                                                           
                              RICKON                                       
                    Are we going home? I want my horse.                    
                    And I want applecakes and butter                       
                    and honey, and Shaggy. Are we going                    
                    where Shaggydog is?                                    
                                                                           
                              BRAN                                         
                    Yes, but you have to be quiet.                         
                                                                           
          Meera helped lift Bran into the basket on Hodor’s back.          
          Their footsteps echoed through the cavernous crypts. They        
          reached the stone stairs that led up to the surface.             
                                                                           
                              OSHA                                         
                    Wait. I’ll grope my way up.                            
                                                                           
          They could hear the sound of her footfalls.                      
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 62.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              HODOR                                        
                    Hodor.                                                 
                                                                           
          His brother was squirming restlessly.                            
                                                                           
                              RICKON                                       
                    I want to go home!                                     
                                                                           
          After a few minutes Osha emerged into the light.                 
                                                                           
                              OSHA                                         
                    Something is blocking the door. I                      
                    can’t move it.                                         
                                                                           
                              BRAN                                         
                    Hodor can move anything.                               
                                                                           
                              OSHA                                         
                    Might be he can. Come on, then.                        
                                                                           
          The steps were narrow, so they had to climb in single file.      
          The door to the crypts was made of ironwood. Osha tried once     
          more when she reached it, but it was not budging.                
                                                                           
                              BRAN                                         
                    Let Hodor try.                                         
                                                                           
          They had to pull Bran from his basket first.                     
                                                                           
                              BRAN                                         
                    Open the door, Hodor.                                  
                                                                           
          The stableboy put both hands flat on the door and pushed.        
                                                                           
                              HODOR                                        
                    Hodor? Hodor.                                          
                                                                           
                              BRAN                                         
                    Use your back. And your legs.                          
                                                                           
          Turning, Hodor put his back to the wood and shoved.              
                                                                           
                              HODOR                                        
                    Hodor!                                                 
                                                                           
          This time the wood groaned and creaked.                          
                                                                           
                              HODOR                                        
                    Hodor!                                                 
                                                                           
          Hodor spread his legs apart, braced, and straightened.           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 63.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              HODOR                                        
                    Hodor hodor hodor hodor hodor                          
                    HODOR!                                                 
                                                                           
          Then suddenly the door jerked upward and a shaft of daylight     
          fell across Bran’s face. Then the way was open. Osha poked       
          her spear through and slid out after it. The Reeds had to        
          carry Bran up the last few steps. Smoke eddied all around        
          them. Winterfell was all in ruin.                                
                                                                           
                              RICKON                                       
                    Take me home! I want to be home!                       
                                                                           
                              OSHA                                         
                    We made noise enough to wake a                         
                    dragon, but there’s no one come.                       
                    The castle’s dead and burned, just                     
                    as Bran dreamed, but we had best--                     
                                                                           
          She broke off suddenly at a noise behind them. Two lean dark     
          shapes emerged from behind the broken tower.                     
                                                                           
                              RICKON                                       
                    Shaggy!                                                
                                                                           
          The direwolves came bounding toward them.                        
                                                                           
                              JOJEN                                        
                    We should go. So much death will                       
                    bring other wolves besides Summer                      
                    and Shaggydog, and not all on four                     
                    feet.                                                  
                                                                           
                              OSHA                                         
                    Aye, soon enough, but we need food,                    
                    and there may be some survived                         
                    this, Stay together. Meera, keep                       
                    your shield up and guard our backs.                    
                                                                           
          Bran recognized Poxy Tym, even though someone had taken an       
          axe to his face.                                                 
                                                                           
                              OSHA                                         
                    If the gods are good, the Others                       
                    will take them that did this work.                     
                                                                           
                              BRAN                                         
                    It was Theon.                                          
                                                                           
                              OSHA                                         
                    No. Look. That’s one of his                            
                    ironmen. And there. And that’s                         
                    Greyjoy’s warhorse, see? The black                     
                              (MORE)                                       
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 64.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              OSHA  (cont’d)                               
                    one with the arrows in him. And                        
                    here’s Black Lorren. Took a few                        
                    with him, he did. There’s a badge.                     
                    A little man, all red.                                 
                                                                           
                              BRAN                                         
                    The flayed man of the Dreadfort.                       
                                                                           
          Summer howled, and darted away.                                  
                                                                           
                              MEERA                                        
                    The godswood.                                          
                                                                           
          Meera Reed and the rest of them ran after the direwolf.          
                                                                           
                              JOJEN                                        
                    There is a power in living wood, a                     
                    power strong as fire.                                  
                                                                           
          On the edge of the black pool, Maester Luwin lay on his          
          belly in the dirt. Summer stood over him, when Meera touched     
          his throat, the maester moaned.                                  
                                                                           
                              HODOR                                        
                    Hodor? Hodor?                                          
                                                                           
                              LUWIN                                        
                    Bran. And Rickon too. The gods are                     
                    good. I knew ...                                       
                                                                           
                              BRAN                                         
                    Knew?                                                  
                                                                           
                              LUWIN                                        
                    The legs, I could tell ... the                         
                    clothes fit, but the muscles in his                    
                    legs ... poor lad ... You vanished                     
                    ... in the woods ... how, though?                      
                                                                           
                              BRAN                                         
                    We never went. Well, only to the                       
                    edge, and then doubled back. I sent                    
                    the wolves on to make a trail, but                     
                    we hid in Father’s tomb.                               
                                                                           
                              LUWIN                                        
                    The crypts.                                            
                                                                           
                              OSHA                                         
                    We’ll need to make a litter to                         
                    carry him.                                             
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 65.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              LUWIN                                        
                    No use. I’m dying, woman.                              
                                                                           
                              RICKON                                       
                    You can’t. No you can’t.                               
                                                                           
                              LUWIN                                        
                    Hush now, child, I’m much older                        
                    than you. I can ... die as I                           
                    please.                                                
                                                                           
                              BRAN                                         
                    Hodor, down.                                           
                                                                           
          Hodor went to his knees beside the maester.                      
                                                                           
                              LUWIN                                        
                    Listen, the princes ... Robb’s                         
                    heirs. Not ... not together ... do                     
                    you hear?                                              
                                                                           
                              OSHA                                         
                    Aye. Safer apart. But where to take                    
                    them? I’d thought, might be these                      
                    Cerwyns ...                                            
                                                                           
                              LUWIN                                        
                    Cerwyn boy’s dead. Ser Rodrik,                         
                    Leobald Tallhart, Lady Hornwood ...                    
                    all slain. Deepwood fallen, Moat                       
                    Cailin, soon Torrhen’s Square.                         
                    Ironmen on the Stony Shore. And                        
                    east, the Bastard of Bolton.                           
                                                                           
                              OSHA                                         
                    Then where?                                            
                                                                           
                              LUWIN                                        
                    White Harbor ... the Umbers ... I                      
                    do not know ... war everywhere ...                     
                    each man against his neighbor, and                     
                    winter coming ... such folly, such                     
                    black mad folly ... You must be                        
                    strong now. Strong.                                    
                                                                           
                              BRAN                                         
                    I will be.                                             
                                                                           
                              LUWIN                                        
                    Good. A good boy. Your ... your                        
                    father’s son, Bran. Now go.                            
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           

                                                                 66.       
                                                                           
                                                                           
                                                                           
                              OSHA                                         
                    And leave you for the gods?                            
                                                                           
                              LUWIN                                        
                    I beg ... A ... a drink of water,                      
                    and ... another boon. If you would                     
                    ...                                                    
                                                                           
                              OSHA                                         
                    Aye. Take the boys.                                    
                                                                           
          Jojen and Meera led Rickon out between them. Hodor followed.     
          Osha joined them in the yard a few moments later.                
                                                                           
                              OSHA                                         
                    Hodor must stay with Bran, to be                       
                    his legs. I will take Rickon with                      
                    me.                                                    
                                                                           
                              JOJEN                                        
                    We’ll go with Bran.                                    
                                                                           
                              OSHA                                         
                    Aye, I thought you might. Believe                      
                    I’ll try the East Gate, and follow                     
                    the kingsroad a ways.                                  
                                                                           
                              MEERA                                        
                    We’ll take the Hunter’s Gate.                          
                                                                           
                              HODOR                                        
                    Hodor.                                                 
                                                                           
          They stopped at the kitchens first. Outside, they made their     
          farewells. They crossed the drawbridge between the walls.        
                                                                           
                              BRAN                                         
                    Will we go to your lord father? To                     
                    Greywater Watch?                                       
                                                                           
                              JOJEN                                        
                    Our road is north.                                    

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