Sister. Sansa had once dreamt of having a sister like Margaery;beautiful and gentle, with all the world’s graces at her command.Arya had been entirely unsatisfactory as sisters went. How can I letmy sister marry Jorey? she thought, and suddenly her eyes were fullof tears. “Margaery, please,” she said, “you mustn’t.” It was hard toget the words out. “You mustn’t marry him. He’s not like he seems,he’s not. He’ll hurt you.”“I shouldn’t think so.” Margaery smiled condently. “It’s brave ofyou to warn me, but you need not fear. Jo’s spoiled and vain and Idon’t doubt that he’s as cruel as you say, but Father forced him toname Loras to his Kingsguard before he would agree to the match. Ishall have the nest knight in the Seven Kingdoms protecting menight and day, as Prince Aemon protected Naerys. So our little lionhad best behave, hadn’t he?” She laughed, and said, “Come, sweetsister, let’s race back to the river. It will drive our guards quitemad.” And without waiting for an answer, she put her heels into herhorse and ew.

They are children, Sansa thought. They are silly little girls, evenElinor. They’ve never seen a battle, they’ve never seen a man die, theyknow nothing. Their dreams were full of songs and stories, the wayhers had been before Jorey cut her father’s head o. Sansa pitiedthem. Sansa envied them.

Megga couldn’t sing, but she was mad to be kissed. She andAlla played a kissing game sometimes, she confessed, but it wasn’tthe same as kissing a man, much less a king.

Margaery’s kindness had been unfailing, and her presencechanged everything. Her ladies welcomed Sansa as well. It had beenso long since she had enjoyed the company of other women, she hadalmost forgotten how pleasant it could be. Lady Leonette gave herlessons on the high harp, and Lady Janna shared all the choicegossip. Merry Crane always had an amusing story, and little LadyBulwer reminded her of Arya, though not so erce.

SANSAnew gown?” she said, as wary as she was astonished.“More lovely than any you have worn, my lady,” t

“—that we fuck beneath your cloak many a night. I never saidwhen we started, though.” The smile she gave him was almost shy.“Find another place for Ghost to sleep tonight, Jon Snow. It’s likeMance said. Deeds is truer than words.”

Father forgive me.

“Butwhen the dead walk, walls and stakes and swords mean nothing.You cannot ght the dead, Jon Snow.

Can a bird hate?

on turned at the sudden sound of wings. Blue-grey feathers lledhis eyes, as sharp talons buried themselves in his face. Red painlanced through him sudden and erce as pinions beat round hishead.

She reminded him a little of hissister Arya, though Arya was younger and probably skinnier.

Bran and Rickon are still at Winterfellbesides. Maester Luwin, Ser Rodrik, Old Nan, Farlen the kennelmaster,Mikken at his forge and Gage by his ovens ... everyone I ever knew,everyone I ever loved.

Lucky it might be, and red it certainly was, but Ygritte’s hair wassuch a tangle that Jon was tempted to ask her if she only brushed itat the changing of the seasons.

“Jon Snow, you know nothing.

He lay listening to her breathe for a long time,trying to ignore the tension in his groin. R

All ripped and tornI was, and half me member bit right o, and there on me oor was ashe-bear’s pelt. And soon enough the free folk were telling tales o’this bald bear seen in the woods, with the queerest pair o’ cubsbehind her. Har!” He slapped a meaty thigh. “Would that I could

So I found me a sleeping giant, cut open her belly, andcrawled up right inside her. Kept me warm enough, she did, but thestink near did for me. The worst thing was, she woke up when thespring come and took me for her babe. Suckled me for three wholemoons before I could get away. Har! There’s times I miss the taste o’giant’s milk, though.”

“We must win back the Freys,” said Robb. “With them, we stillhave some chance of success, however small. Without them, I see nohope. I am willing to give Lord Walder whatever herequires ... apologies, honors, lands, gold ... there must be somethingthat would soothe his pride ...”“Not something,” said Catelyn. “Someone.”

“The next battle,” Robb said. “Well, that will be soon enough.Once Jorey is wed, the Lannisters will take the eld against meonce more, I don’t doubt, and this time the Tyrells will march besidethem. And I may need to ght the Freys as well, if Black Walder hashis way ...”“So long as Theon Greyjoy sits in your father’s seat with yourbrothers’ blood on his hands, these other foes must wait,” Catelyntold her son. “Your rst duty is to defend your own people, winback Winterfell, and hang Theon in a crow’s cage to die slowly. Orelse put o that crown for good, Robb, for men will know that youare no true king at all.”

If you had to fallinto a woman’s arms, my son, why couldn’t they have been MargaeryTyrell’s?

I used to think the same as you, that the wolves were ourguardians, our protectors, until ...”“Until?” she prompted.Robb’s mouth tightened. “....until they told me that Theon hadmurdered Bran and Rickon. Small good their wolves did them.

I used to think the same as you, that the wolves were ourguardians, our protectors, until ...”“Until?” she prompted.Robb’s mouth tightened. “....until they told me that Theon hadmurdered Bran and Rickon. Small good their wolves did them.

And there’s the heart of it, Catelyn thought. “He is part of you,Robb. To fear him is to fear you.”“I am not a wolf, no matter what they call me.” Robb soundedcross. “Grey Wind killed a man at the Crag, another at Ashemark,and six or seven at Oxcross. If you had seen—”“I saw Bran’s wolf tear out a man’s throat at Winterfell,” she saidsharply, “and loved him for it.”“That’s dierent. The man at the Crag was a knight Jeyne hadknown all her life. You can’t blame her for being afraid. Grey Winddoesn’t like her uncle either. He bares his teeth every time Ser Rolphcomes near him.”A chill went through her. “Send Ser Rolph away. At once.”

and there was another Jeyne Westerling who was queen to KingMaegor three hundred years ago.”

“I know,” her son said, stricken. “I’ve made a botch of everythingbut the battles, haven’t I? I thought the battles would be the hardpart, but ... if I had listened to you and kept Theon as my hostage,I’d still rule the north, and Bran and Rickon would be alive and safein Winterfell.”

Jeyne had me taken to her own bed, and she nursed meuntil the fever passed. And she was with me when the Greatjonbrought me the news of ... of Winterfell. Bran and Rickon.” Heseemed to have trouble saying his brothers’ names. “That night,she ... she comforted me, Mother.”Catelyn did not need to be told what sort of comfort JeyneWesterling had oered her son. “And you wed her the next day.”He looked her in the eyes, proud and miserable all at once. “Itwas the only honorable thing to do. She’s gentle and sweet, Mother,

It is swords you need, not gentle hearts. How could you do this, Robb?How could you be so heedless, so stupid? How could you be so ... sovery ... young.

“That would be best.” Robb kissed his Jeyne. “The steward willnd you suitable accommodations.”

Jeyne Westerling. Lord Gawen’s elder daughter, and my ... ah ... mylady wife.”The rst thought that ew across Catelyn’s mind was, No, thatcannot be, you are only a child.The second was, And besides, you have pledged another.The third was, Mother have mercy, Robb, what have you done?Only then came her belated remembrance. Follies done for love? Hehas bagged me neat as a hare in a snare. I seem to have already forgivenhim.

“The honor is mine,” Catelyn said. Can Robb have won the Crag’sallegiance? If so, it was no wonder the Westerlings were with him.Casterly Rock did not suer such betrayals gently. Not since TywinLannister had been old enough to go to war ...

Lady Mormont tookher hand and said, “My lady, if Cersei Lannister held two of mydaughters, I would have done the same.” The Greatjon, no respecterof proprieties, lifted her o her feet and squeezed her arms with his

Thewolf. The wolf is not here. Where is Grey Wind? She knew the direwolfhad returned with Robb, she had heard the dogs, but he was not inthe hall, not at her son’s side where he belonged.

“I have. I know what it is to love so greatly you can think ofnothing else.”Catelyn bowed her head. “Thank you.” I have not lost this child, atleast.

“Enough.” For just an instant Robb sounded more like Brandonthan his father. “No man calls my lady of Winterfell a traitor in myhearing, Lord Rickard.” When he turned to Catelyn, his voicesoftened. “If I could wish the Kingslayer back in chains I would. Youfreed him without my knowledge or consent ... but what you did, Iknow you did for love. For Arya and Sansa, and out of grief for Branand Rickon. Love’s not always wise, I’ve learned. It can lead us togreat folly, but we follow our hearts ... wherever they take us. Don’twe, Mother?”

“It was a mother’s folly. Women are madethat way.”

He leapt o thedais and pulled Catelyn into his arms. When he said, “It is good tosee you home, Cat,” she had to struggle to keep her composure.“And you,” she whispered.

If Robb looks at me as Edmure did, I do notknow what I will do. But it seemed to her that it was not anger shesaw in her son’s eyes, but something else ... apprehension, perhaps?No, that made no sense. What should he fear? He was the YoungWolf, King of the Trident and the North.

He is sixteen now, a man grown. Just look at him. War hadmelted all the softness from his face and left him hard and lean. Hehad shaved his beard away, but his auburn hair fell uncut to hisshoulders.

One of Robb’s white banners lay on the ground, andone of the knights turned his horse and trampled over the direwolfas he spurred toward the gate. Several others did the same. Thoseare men who fought with Edmure on the fords, she thought. What couldhave made them so angry? Has my brother slighted them somehow, giventhem some insult? She thought she recognized Ser Perwyn Frey,

His eyes went wide, “Gods be good,” he said in a choked voice.“Arya Underfoot? Lem, let go of her.”“She broke my nose.” Lem dumped her unceremoniously to theoor. “Who in seven hells is she supposed to be?”“The Hand’s daughter.” Harwin went to one knee before her.“Arya Stark, of Winterfell.”

For a moment she did not know how to answer. She’d had somany names. Had she only dreamed Arya Stark? “I’m a girl,” shesnied. “I was Lord Bolton’s cupbearer but he was going to leave me

A moment later a man came swaggeringthrough the open door, a Tyroshi even bigger than Lem with a greatthick beard, bright green at the ends but growing out grey.

“There’s no cause for spilling good ale onmy oor,” said Sharna. “Sit back down and calm yourself, boy,there’s rabbit coming. You too, girl. Whatever harm’s been doneyou, it’s over and it’s done and you’re with king’s men now. We’llkeep you safe as best we can.”

“Three golden dragons. We need to buy those horses.”

Anyways, you lot were supposed to get them back.”

“We were thinking we might eat it,Sharna. With lemons. If you had some.”“Lemons. And where would we get lemons? Does this look likeDorne to you

“A bear there was, a bear, a bear!All black and brown, and covered with hair ...”

“Sharna’s husband, and an orphan boy they took in. They won’tharm you. There’s ale, if you think you’re old enough. Fresh bread

Escaped from Lord Bolton’s kitchen, did you?”“How did you know?” Arya demanded, uneasy.“You bear his sigil on your chest, little one.”

“Squab, if you want,” she said. “I don’t care.”

s and a hundreddoves baked into a great pie,” Shae gushed. “When the crust’sopened, they’ll all burst out and y.”“After which they will roost in the rafters and rain down birdshiton the guests.” Tyrion had suered such wedding pies before. Thedoves liked to shit on him especially, or so he had always suspected.

Lollys won’t go. I toldher no one’s like to rape her in the king’s own throne room, butshe’s so stupid.”

“My lord.” A woman sidled into the light; plump, soft, matronly,with a round pink moon of a face and heavy dark curls. Tyrionrecoiled. “Is something amiss?” she asked.Varys, he realized with annoyance. “For one horrid moment Ithought you’d brought me Lollys instead of Shae. Where is she?”“Here, m’lord.” She put her hands over his eyes from behind.“Can you guess what I’m wearing?”“Nothing?”“Oh, you’re so smart,” she pouted, snatching her hands away.“How did you know?”“You’re very beautiful in nothing.”“Am I?” she said. “Am I truly?”“Oh yes.”“Then shouldn’t you be fucking me instead of talking?”“We need to rid ourselves of Lady Varys rst. I am not the sort ofdwarf who likes an audience.”“He’s gone,” Shae said.Tyrion turned to look. It was true. The eunuch had vanished,skirts and all. The hidden doors are here somewhere, they have to be.That was as much as he had time to think, before Shae turned his

I had my ownlove once, and we had a song as well.” I loved a maid as fair assummer, with sunlight in her hair.

“Prince Aemon the Dragonknight took his vows at seventeen,” SerLoras said, “and your brother Jaime was younger still.”“I know their reasons. What are yours? T

It was strange to see the Knight of Flowers all in whitewhen before he had always been as colorful as a rainbow

It’s even worse than I feared. “And my father? Who does he havespying on me?”This time the eunuch laughed aloud. “Why, me, my lord.”

“And the second Aegon fed GrandMaester Gerardys to his dragon.”

“My lord Tyrion,” came out in a squeak,punctuated by a nervous giggle.

Jaime hauled the last dragonking bodily o the steps, squealing likea pig and smelling like a privy.

So spare me your envy. It was the gods who neglectedto give you a cock, not me.”

A gift you want desperately, wench, and can never have.

Orperhaps your moon’s blood was on you. Never give a wench a swordwhen she’s bleeding.”

“Yes, and what you did as well. We’re both kingslayers here, ifwhat I’ve heard is true.”

but heresigned the Handship on some thin pretext and returned to CasterlyRock, taking his daughter with him. Instead of being together,Cersei and Jaime just changed places, and he found himself alone atcourt, guarding a mad king

excited him all the more. Jaime had never seen her more passionate.Every time he went to sleep, she woke him again. By morningCasterly Rock seemed a small price to pay to be near her always. Hegave his consent, and Cersei promised to do the rest.

Aerys had Ser Ilyn Payne’s tongue torn out just forboasting that it was the Hand who truly ruled the Seven Kingdoms.The captain of the Hand’s guard, and yet Father dared not try andstop it! He won’t stop this, either.

sleeping lion

Cersei took him aside andwhispered that Lord Tywin meant to marry him to Lysa Tully, hadgone so far as to invite Lord Hoster to the city to discuss dower. Butif Jaime took the white, he could be near her always.

Jaime sat against the bole of an oak and wondered what Cerseiand Tyrion were doing just now. “Do you have any siblings, mylady?” he asked.Brienne squinted at him suspiciously. “No. I was my father’s onlys—child.”Jaime chuckled. “Son, you meant to say. Does he think of you as ason? You make a queer sort of daughter, to be sure.”Wordless, she turned away from him, her knuckles tight on hersword hilt. What a wretched creature this one is. She reminded him ofTyrion in some queer way, though at rst blush two people couldscarcely be any more dissimilar. Perhaps it was that thought of hisbrother that made him say, “I did not intend to give oense,Brienne. Forgive me.

Brienne considered them briey, and thenswung her horse onto the southern road. Jaime was pleasantlysurprised; it was the same choice he would have made.

huge ugly cow ofa woman.

Thesaddlecloth had originally been checkered pink and black,

And the lightning lord’s been seen in these parts as well. He crossesthe river wherever he likes, riding this way and that way, neverstill.”“And who is this lightning lord?” demanded Ser Cleos Frey.“Lord Beric, as it please you, ser. They call him that ’cause hestrikes so sudden, like lightning from a clear sky. It’s said he cannotdie.”They all die when you shove a sword through them, Jaime thought.“Does Thoros of Myr still ride with him?”“Aye. The red wizard. I’ve heard tell he has strange powers.”

ride by way ofDuskendale

“Seize him, and take his dirk. He means to use it onour lady.”

The boy went down as well, but he was up again almost at once.“What are you doing here?” he demanded as he brushed himself o.Jet-black hair fell to his collar, and his eyes were a startling blue.“You shouldn’t get in my way when I’m running.”

hell

Salladhor Saan pushed himself to his feet. “You are no true friend,I am thinking. When you are dead, who will be bringing your ashesand bones back to your lady wife and telling her that she has lost ahusband and four sons? Only sad old Salladhor Saan. But so be it,brave ser knight, go rushing to your grave. I will gather your bonesin a sack and give them to the sons you leave behind, to wear inlittle bags around their necks.” He waved an angry hand, with ringson every nger. “Go, go, go, go, go.”

“And this is why,” said Davos. “To do this thing. To make an endof Melisandre of Asshai and all her works. Why else would the seahave spit me out? You know Blackwater Bay as well as I do, Salla.No sensible captain would ever take his ship through the spears ofthe merling king and risk ripping out his bottom. Shayala’s Danceshould never have come near me.”“A wind,” insisted Salladhor Saan loudly, “an ill wind, is all. Awind drove her too far to the south.”“And who sent the wind? Salla, the Mother spoke to me.”The old Lyseni blinked at him. “Your mother is dead ...”“The Mother. She blessed me with seven sons, and yet I let themburn her. She spoke to me. We called the re, she said. We calledthe shadows too. I rowed Melisandre into the bowels of Storm’s Endand watched her birth a horror.” He saw it still in his nightmares,the gaunt black hands pushing against her thighs as it wriggled freeof her swollen womb. “She killed Cressen and Lord Renly and abrave man named Cortnay Penrose, and she killed my sons as well.Now it is time someone killed her.”

Melisandre. Davos shivered. “The red woman did this to him,” hesaid. “She sent the re to consume us, to punish Stannis for settingher aside, to teach him that he could not hope to win without hersorceries.”

“Illyrio Mopatis.

Salladhor Saan threaded his way between the jars of spice and boltsof cloth that lled the hold of the merchanter, wrapped Davos in aerce embrace, then kissed him once on each cheek and a third timeon his forehead. “You are still warm, ser, and I feel your heartthumpety-thumping. Can it be true? The sea that swallowed you hasspit you up again.”

table he spent the rest of the day withone end or the other dangling over the rail

“So wide open that I fear you may fall through it, and live all therest of your days as a wolf of the woods.”

He was the only one who liked Bran’s plan, though. Meera justsmiled at him and Jojen frowned. They never listened to what hewanted, even though Bran was a Stark and a prince besides, and theReeds of the Neck were Stark bannermen

wo crannogmen a thousand leagues fromthe Neck.

jen Reed was thirteen, only fouryears older than Bran.

But his sister hadleft the wilds, to walk in the halls of man-rock where other huntersruled, and once within those halls it was hard to nd the path backout.

.. all but the sister they had lost. His taildrooped when he remembered her. Four now, not ve. Four and onemore, the white who has no voice.

Prince. The man-sound came into his head suddenly, yet he couldfeel the rightness of it. Prince of the green, prince of the wolfswood. He

. And I tell youtruly, Daenerys, there is no man in all the world who will ever behalf so true to you as me.”

“You ... you should not have ...”“I should not have waited so long,” he nished for her. “I shouldhave kissed you in Qarth, in Vaes Tolorru. I should have kissed youin the red waste, every night and every day. You were made to bekissed, often and well.” His eyes were on her breasts.

“And my vest—” shestarted to say, turning.Ser Jorah slid his arms around her.“Oh,” was all Dany had time to say as he pulled her close andpressed his lips down on hers. He smelled of sweat and salt andleather, and the iron studs on his jerkin dug into her naked breastsas he crushed her hard against him. One hand held her by theshoulder while the other slid down her spine to the small of her

but three living dragons, andthose were hers; they were a wonder, and a terror, and beyondprice.

Until one day Prince Rhaegar found something in hisscrolls that changed him.

Young Lord Connington was dear to the prince as well,

His name wasArstan,

ut the dragons the Seven Kingdoms knew best werethose of House Targaryen. They were bred for war, and in war theydied.

ut when she told her brother, Viserys had twisted her hairuntil she cried. “You are blood of the dragon,” he had screamed ather. “A dragon, not some smelly sh.”

DaenerysTargaryen was as happy as she could ever remember being.

dragons chase each other across a cloudless blue sky,

“And did you see where I was seated, Mance?” He leanedforward. “Did you see where they put the bastard?”Mance Rayder looked at Jon’s face for a long moment. “I think wehad best nd you a new cloak,” the king said, holding out his hand.

She was dead, as it happened, but her daughter saw to me.Cleaned my wounds, sewed me up, and fed me porridge and potionsuntil I was strong enough to ride again. And she sewed up the rentsin my cloak as well, with some scarlet silk from Asshai that hergrandmother had pulled from the wreck of a cog washed up on theFrozen Shore. It was the greatest treasure she had, and her gift tome.” He swept the cloak back over his shoulders. “But at theShadow Tower, I was given a new wool cloak from stores, black andblack, and trimmed with black, to go with my black breeches andblack boots, my black doublet and black mail. The new cloak had nofrays nor rips nor tears ... and most of all, no red. The men of theNight’s Watch dressed in black, Ser Denys Mallister reminded mesternly, as if I had forgotten. My old cloak was t for burning now,he said.“I left the next morning ... for a place where a kiss was not acrime, and a man could wear any cloak he chose.”

“Bael the Bard,” said Jon, remembering the tale that Ygritte hadtold him in the Frostfangs, the night he’d almost killed her.“Would that I were. I will not deny that Bael’s exploit inspiredmine own ... but I did not steal either of your sisters that I recall.

I was walking the wall around the yard when I came onyou and your brother Robb. It had snowed the night before, and thetwo of you had built a great mountain above the gate and werewaiting for someone likely to pass underneath.”“I remember,” said Jon with a startled laugh. A young blackbrother on the wallwalk, yes ... “You swore not to tell.”“And kept my vow. That one, at least.”

Mance Rayder laughed. “As you wish. Jon Snow, before youstands Tormund Giantsbane, Tall-talker, Horn-blower, and Breakerof Ice. And here also Tormund Thunderst, Husband to Bears, theMead-king of Ruddy Hall, Speaker to Gods and Father of Hosts.”

his ragged black woolcloak,

The singer rose to his feet. “I’m Mance Rayder,” he said as he putaside the lute. “And you are Ned Stark’s bastard, the Snow ofWinterfell.”

Jon felt utterly alone as he stood there in hisblacks, awaiting the pleasure of the turncloak who called himselfKing-beyond-the-Wall. When his eyes had adjusted to the smoky redgloom, he saw six people, none of whom paid him any mind. A darkyoung man and a pretty blonde woman were sharing a horn ofmead. A pregnant woman stood over a brazier cooking a brace ofhens, while a grey-haired man in a tattered cloak of black and redsat crosslegged on a pillow, playing a lute and singing:

to play the part of turncloak,

The wildlings had taken him foran oathbreaker, but in his heart he was still a man of the Night’sWatch, doing the last duty that Qhorin Halfhand had laid on him.Before I killed him.

“Willas has a bad leg but a good heart,” said Margaery. “He usedto read to me when I was a little girl, and draw me pictures of thestars. You will love him as much as we do, Sansa.”

“I CALLED FOR A KNIGHT, BUT YOU’RE A BEAR! A BEAR! ABEAR! ALL BLACK AND BROWN AND COVERED WITH HAIR!”

Oberyn Martell.

We were speaking of my grandson Willas. He is a bit oldfor you, to be sure, but a dear boy for all that. Not the least bitoash, and heir to Highgarden besides.”

rose. Ser Loras in white silk, so pure, innocent, beautiful. Thedimples at the corner of his mouth when he smiled. The sweetnessof his laugh, the warmth of his hand. She could only imagine whatit would be like to pull up his tunic and caress the smooth skinunderneath, to stand on her toes and kiss him, to run her ngersthrough those thick brown curls and drown in his deep brown eyes.A ush crept up her neck.

“I want you to tell me the truth about this royal boy,” said LadyOlenna abruptly. “This Jorey.”

All these kings would do a dealbetter if they would put down their swords and listen to theirmothers.”

“That Varys creature seemed tothink we should be grateful for the information. I

. She felt very like a pu shherself.

After LordPu Fish

As to your father, would that I’d been born a peasant woman with abig wooden spoon, I might have been able to beat some sense intohis fat head.”

The Baratheons have always had some queernotions, to be sure. It comes from their Targaryen blood, I shouldthink.” She snied. “They tried to marry me to a Targaryen once,but I soon put an end to that.”

The old woman smelled of rosewater. Why, she’s just the littlest bitof a thing. There was nothing the least bit thorny about her.

“Their mothernamed them Erryk and Arryk, but Grandmother can’t tell themapart, so she calls them Left and Right.”

Maidenvault since King Baelor the Blessed had conned his sisterstherein, so the sight of them might not tempt him into carnalthoughts.

He took his hand from her arm. “I slew Robar at Storm’s End, mylady.” It was not a boast; he sounded sad.Him, and another of King Renly’s Rainbow Guard as well, yes. Sansahad heard the women talking of it round the well, but for a momentshe’d forgotten. “That was when Lord Renly was killed, wasn’t it?How terrible for your poor sister.”“For Margaery?” His voice was tight. “To be sure. She was atBitterbridge, though. She did not see.”“Even so, when she heard ...”Ser Loras brushed the hilt of his sword lightly with his hand. Itsgrip was white leather, its pommel a rose in alabaster. “Renly isdead. Robar as well. What use to speak of them?”The sharpness in his tone took her aback. “I ... my lord, I ... I didnot mean to give oense, ser.”“Nor could you, Lady Sansa,” Ser Loras replied, but all thewarmth had gone from his voice. Nor did he take her arm again.

Ser Loras gave her a modest smile. “I spoke only a simple truth,that any man with eyes could see.”He doesn’t remember, Sansa realized, startled. He is only being kindto me, he doesn’t remember me or the rose or any of it. She had been socertain that it meant something, that it meant everything. A red rose,not a white. “It was after you unhorsed Ser Robar Royce,” she said,desperately.

Garlan

I am talking to him, and he’s touching me, he’sholding my arm and touching me.

The sight of Ser Loras Tyrell standing on herthreshold made Sansa’s heart beat a little faster.

if there was one thing that Sansa Stark had learnedhere, it was mistrust

Hermother and grandmother followed close behin

She was sixteen

the heart-shaped face, the red eyes, the long coppery hair, herred gowns moving like ames as she walked

My luck. His shortened ngers patted at his chest,groping, nding nothing. The pouch was gone, and the ngerboneswith them. S

Instead he sucked in a great gulp of air and dove

Why should I live? he thought as tears blurred his vision. Gods begood, why? My sons are dead, Dale and Allard, Maric and Matthos,perhaps Devan as well. How can a father outlive so many strong youngsons? How would I go on? I am a hollow shell, the crab’s died, there’snothing left inside. Don’t they know that?

You, who killed your mother to come into theworld?

“Jorey and Margaery shall marry on the rst day of the newyear, which as it happens is also the rst day of the new century.The ceremony will herald the dawn of a new era.”

Uncle Tygett, a boy of thirteen. Hehad vanished in the riot, not long after wedding the LadyErmesande, a suckling babe who happened to be the last survivingheir of House Hayford. And likely the rst bride in the history of theSeven Kingdoms to be widowed before she was weaned.

My hirelings betray me, my friends are scourged and shamed, and I liehere rotting, Tyrion thought. I thought I won the bloody battle. Is thiswhat triumph tastes like?

She was no little girl in the dream; she was a wolf, huge andpowerful, and when she emerged from beneath the trees in front ofthem and bared her teeth in a low rumbling growl, she could smellthe rank stench of fear from horse and man alike. The Lyseni’smount reared and screamed in terror, and the others shouted at oneanother in mantalk, but before they could act the other wolves camehurtling from the darkness and the rain, a great pack of them, gauntand wet and silent.

It was mushy andoverripe, but she ate it worms and all.

she wore a sword across her back,

Tully men did not surrender easily, no matter theodds.

“Your son will be heir to Winterfell andmine to the Eyrie. Oh, they’ll be the best of friends, like your Nedand Lord Robert. They’ll be more brothers than cousins, truly, I justknow it.” She was so happy.

Could Tansy be some pet name he called Lysa, the way he called meCat?

“Was it news of Robb?”He hesitated. “Yes, my lady

“There was a raven today, I saw. Has Jaime been taken again?” Orslain, gods forbid?

“Dead.” His hand groped for hers. “You’llhave others ... sweet babes, and trueborn.”

What would you say if you knew my crime, Father? shewondered. Would you have done as I did, if it were Lysa and me in thehands of our enemies? Or would you condemn me too, and call itmother’s madness?

He had seen Lord Hoster’s little Cat become ayoung woman, a great lord’s lady, mother to a king. And now he hasseen me become a traitor as well.

“And you actually mean to keep it?” Jaime gave her his brightestsmile. “Now there’s a wonder.”

Pretty eyes, he thought, and calm.

“I hope to blind my enemies with the sheen o my head. It’s workedwell enough for you.”

Brienne seemed to have a keen eye for the dangers, though, andalways seemed to nd the channel

I don’t look as much like Cersei this way. She’llhate that.

“Let Robert do as he pleases. I’ll go to war with him if I must. TheWar for Cersei’s Cunt, the singers will call it.”“Jaime, let go of me!” she raged, struggling to rise.

He amused himself by picturing her in one of Cersei’s silkengowns in place of her studded leather jerkin. As well dress a cow insilk as this one.

as soft andfragrant as Cersei’s ngers.

JAIME

The snow’s taken it all from me ... the bloody snow...Snow had ruined him once before. Snow and his pet pig.

Gloomy horse-faced fool,

“I hit him.” Ser Piggy sounded shocked. “Grenn,did you see? Edd, look, I hit him!”

take her, and none of this giving her owers so that maybe she don’tnotice your bloody boils.

She stopped laughing when he put his knife in her. Thatwas sweet, the look on her face, so he pulled the knife out and put itin her again. When they caught him down near Sevenstreams, oldLord Walder Frey hadn’t even bothered to come himself to do thejudging. He’d sent one of his bastards, that Walder Rivers, and thenext thing Chett had known he was walking to the Wall with thatfoul-smelling black devil Yoren. To pay for his one sweet moment,they took his whole life

. “Mormont will be dead beforedaybreak, remember?

Sappho

Sh elley perhaps was sexless.

Poetry ought to have a motheras well as a father. The Fascist poem, one may fear, willbe a horrid little abortion such as one sees in a glass jarin the museum of some county town.

the Fascist era

ne blushes at all these capital letters asif one had been caught eavesdropping at some purelymasculine orgy.

But how interesting itwould have been if the relationship between the twowomen had been more complicated. All these relation-ships between women,

Then I may tell you thatthe very next words I read were the se-"C hloe likedOlivia ... ,, Do not start. Do not blush. Let us admitin the privacy of our own society that these things some-times happen. Sometimes women do like women.

Hence the difficulty of comingto any agreement about novels, and the immense swaythat our private pr ejudices ha ve upon us. On the onehand, we feel You-John th e hero- mu st live, or I shallbe in the depths of despair. On the other, we feel, Alas,John, you must die, because the shape of the book re-quires it. Life conflicts with something th at is not life.Then since life it is in part, we judge it as life.

Evidently thecrazy Duchess became a bogey to frighten clever girlswith.

FlorenceNightingale shrieked aloud in her agony. 1

Opinion s that one now pastes in a book labelled cock-a-doodle-dum a

we have the very words used againin this ye ar of grace, 1928,

killed herself one winter's night and lies buriedat some cross-roads where the omnibuses now stop out-side the Elephant and Castle.

A very queer co mposite being chu emerges. Imagi-natively he is of the highe t importance; practically sheis co mpletely insignificant. She pervades poetry fromcover to cover; she is all b ut absent fron, hist ory. Shedominates the lives of kings and co nqu erors in fi ctio n;in fact she was th e slave of any b oy wh ose parents forceda ring up on h er fin ger. Some of the mo st inspired words,so me of the most profound th oug hts in literature fallfrom her lips ; in re al life she co uld hardly read, couldscarcely sp e ll , and was the pr op erty of her hu sband.

" It remains a stra-nge and almost inexplicable fac t that in Athena's city,where women were kept in almost Oriental sup pression as odalisques ordrudges, the stage should yet have produced figures like Clytemnestra andCassandra, Ato ss a and Antigone, Phedre and Medea, and all the other her-oines who dominate play after play of t he 'misogynist' Euripides. But theparadox of this world where in r eal !ife a respectable woman could hardlyshow her face alone in the street, and yet on the stage woman equals orsurpasses man, has never been satisfactorily explained

M o reover, in a hundr ed years, I th o ug ht ,reac hin g my own door s tep , women will have ceased tobe the protected sex. L og ically th ey will take part in allthe activities and exertions that were once den ie d them.

True, they had money andpow er, but only at th e cost of harbouring in their breastsan eagle, a vulture, for ever tearing the liver out andplucking at the lungs

Women haveserved all these centuries as looking-glasses possessingthe magic and delicious power of reflecting the figure ofman at twice its natural size.

Andh ow can we generate this imponderable quality, whichis yet so invaluable, most quic kJ y? By thinking that othe rpeo pl e are inferior to one self. By feeling that one hassome innate superiority-it may be wealth, or rank, astraight nose, or the portrait of a grandfather byR omney-fo r there is no end to th e pathetic devices ofthe human imagination-over other people.

why,

What had our m othe rs beendoing then that they had no wealth to leave u s?

, if any thing , a little f as ter than before,because it was now evening (s even tw en ty- thr ee to bepr ecise) and a breeze (from the s outhw est to be exact)had risen

b:1ck into the pa r, bcfore the" 'ar indeed. and to ct befo re my eye the model ofanother lunche on party held in ro oms not very far di tantfrom the e; but different.

But they seldom spare a wordfor what was eaten.

laboratorie · the ob ervat ries; the plcndid equipmentof co tlv and delicate in strume nt which n O\V rands on•glas shelves where centurie ago the gras c waved andth e s '\\rine rootled.

da , that preceded my coming her e

a woman musthave money and a room of her own if she is to writefiction;

The stone is strong, Bran toldhimself, the roots of the trees go deep, and under the ground the Kings ofWinter sit their thrones. So long as those remained, Winterfell remained. Itwas not dead, just broken. Like me, he thought. I’m not dead either.

Outside, they made theirfarewells. Rickon sobbed and clung to Hodor’s leg until Osha gave him asmack with the butt end of her spear. Then he followed her quick enough.Shaggydog stalked after them. The last Bran saw of them was the direwolf’stail as it vanished behind the broken tower.

“Listen,” Luwin said to Osha, “the princes ... Robb’s heirs. Not ... nottogether ... do you hear?”The wildling woman leaned on her spear. “Aye. Safer apart. But where totake them? I’d thought, might be these Cerwyns ...”

Tears filled Bran’s eyes. When a man was hurt you took him to the maester,but what could you do when your maester was hurt?