. “The children will help him,” heblurted, “the children of the forest!”

“My uncle is not dead,” Robb Stark said loudly, anger in his tones.He rose from the bench and laid his hand on the hilt of his sword.“Do you hear me? My uncle is not dead!” His voice rang against thestone walls, and Bran was suddenly afraid.

Perhaps once theyhad been lions, but now they were twisted and grotesque. Brancould hear them whispering to each other in soft stone voicesterrible to hear.

Robb turned to themuncertainly. “I have had rooms prepared, and you’ll nd no lack ofhot water to wash o the dust of the road. I hope you will honor usat table tonight.” He spoke the words so awkwardly that even Brantook note; it was a speech he had learned, not words from the heart,but the black brothers thanked him all the same.

Robb had been holding his breath. He let it out with a sigh andcalled, “Grey Wind.”

“Give this to your saddler. He willprovide the rest.”

Bran was uncomfortably aware of Tyrion Lannister’s eyes. Onewas black and one was green,

“Now these were the days before the Andals came, and longbefore the women ed across the narrow sea from the cities of theRhoyne, and the hundred kingdoms of those times were thekingdoms of the First Men, who had taken these lands from thechildren of the forest. Yet here and there in the fastness of thewoods the children still lived in their wooden cities and hollow hills,and the faces in the trees kept watch. So as cold and death lled theearth, the last hero determined to seek out the children, in the hopesthat their ancient magics could win back what the armies of menhad lost. He set out into the dead lands with a sword, a horse, a dog,and a dozen companions. For years he searched, until he despairedof ever nding the children of the forest in their secret cities. Oneby one his friends died, and his horse, and nally even his dog, andhis sword froze so hard the blade snapped when he tried to use it.And the Others smelled the hot blood in him, and came silent on histrail, stalking him with packs of pale white spiders big as hounds—”

“Oh, my sweet summer child,” Old Nan said quietly

Whenever he was awaymore than a day, Rickon would cry and ask Bran if Robb was evercoming back.

He was Robb the Lord now, or trying to be.

They had all left him, his father and his motherand his sisters and even his bastard brother Jon. His father hadpromised he would ride a real horse to King’s Landing, but they’dgone without him. Maester Luwin had sent a bird after Lord Eddardwith a message, and another to Mother and a third to Jon on theWall, but there had been no answers. “Ofttimes the birds are lost,child,” the maester had told him. “There’s many a mile and many ahawk between here and King’s Landing, the message may not havereached them.” Yet to Bran it felt as if they had all died while hehad slept ... or perhaps Bran had died, and they had forgotten him.

His eighth name day had come and gone. He wasalmost a man grown now, too old to cry.

He could hear his brother’sbreathless laughter as Rickon dashed across the hard-packed earthon little baby legs

Grey Wind was there rst, loping ahead to cut him o, until Rickonsaw him, screamed in delight, and went pelting o in anotherdirection. Shaggydog ran at his heels, spinning and snapping if theother wolves came too close. His fur had darkened until he was allblack, and his eyes were green re. Bran’s Summer came last. Hewas silver and smoke, with eyes of yellow gold that saw all therewas to see. Smaller than Grey Wind, and more wary. Bran thoughthe was the smartest of the litter.

It was her fourteenth name day.

turn her over, she put a hand on his chest. “No,” she said. “Thisnight I would look on your face.”There is no privacy in the heart of the khalasar. Dany felt the eyeson her as she undressed him, heard the soft voices as she did thethings that Doreah had told her to do. It was nothing to her. Wasshe not khaleesi? His were the only eyes that mattered, and whenshe mounted him she saw something there that she had never seenbefore. She rode him as ercely as ever she had ridden her silver,and when the moment of his pleasure came, Khal Drogo called outher name.They were on the far side of the Dothraki sea when Jhiquibrushed the soft swell of Dany’s stomach with her ngers and said,“Khaleesi, you are with child.”“I know,” Dany told her.

. One day the other moon will kiss the sun too

ast Targaryen dragons had died nomore than a century and a half ago, during the reign of Aegon III,who was called the Dragonbane

. In her mind’s eye theyburned with a thousand lights, a re blazing in every window. Inher mind’s eye, all the doors were red.

he common people pray for rain, healthy children, and asummer that never ends,” Ser Jorah told her. “It is no matter tothem if the high lords play their game of thrones, so long as they areleft in peace.” He gave a shrug. “They never are.”

Among the Dothraki,the man who does not ride was no man at all, the lowest of the low,without honor or pride. “Let everyone see him as he is.”

She began to ndpleasure even in her nights, and if she still cried out when Drogotook her, it was not always in pain.

There weregreat elk in that wood, and spotted tigers, and lemurs with silver furand huge purple eyes,

Drogo wouldcome to her tent and wake her in the dark, to ride her as relentlesslyas he rode his stallion. He always took her from behind, Dothrakifashion, for which Dany was grateful; that way her lord husbandcould not see the tears that wet her face, and she could use herpillow to mue her cries of pain. When he was done, he wouldclose his eyes and begin to snore softly and Dany would lie besidehim, her body bruised and sore, hurting too much for sleep.

Dany realized that she did not want to listen to any of herbrother’s complaints right now. The day was too perfect. The skywas a deep blue, and high above them a hunting hawk circled. Thegrass sea swayed and sighed with each breath of wind, the air waswarm on her face, and Dany felt at peace. She would not let Viserysspoil it.

“I am your dancing master.”

I can be strong too. I can be as strong as Robb.”

Here and now, with winter soon upon us, that is adierent matter. It is time to begin growing up.”“I will,” Arya vowed. She had never loved him so much as she didin that instant. “

. In winter, we mustprotect one another, keep each other warm, share our strengths. Soif you must hate, Arya, hate those who would truly do us harm.Septa Mordane is a good woman, and Sansa ... Sansa is your sister.You may be as dierent as the sun and the moon, but the sameblood ows through both your hearts. You need her, as she needsyou ... and I need both of you, gods help me.”He sounded so tired that it made Arya sad. “I don’t hate Sansa,”she told him. “Not truly.” It was only half a lie.

Suddenly her father’s arms were around her. He held her gently asshe turned to him and sobbed against his chest. “No, sweet one,” hemurmured. “Grieve for your friend, but never blame yourself. Youdid not kill the butcher’s boy. That murder lies at the Hound’s door,him and the cruel woman he serves.”

Fat Tom was knocking on her door. “Arya girl, what’s wrong?” hecalled out. “You in there?”“No!” she shouted. The knocking stopped. A moment later sheheard him going away. Fat Tom was always easy to fool.

Arya nally felt safe enough to cry.

“He was my friend,” Arya whispered into her plate,

determined not to cry.

. Tyrion had heard thatelsewhere along the Wall, between the three fortresses, thewildwood had come creeping back over the decades, that there wereplaces where grey-green sentinels and pale white weirwoods hadtaken root in the shadow of the Wall itself,

“Friend.”

“Most of my kin arebastards,

Help him, Tyrion.”

“Tell Robb that I’m going to command the Night’s Watch andkeep him safe, so he might as well take up needlework with the girlsand have Mikken melt down his sword for horseshoes.”“Your brother is bigger than me,” Tyrion said with a laugh. “Idecline to deliver any message that might get me killed.”“Rickon will ask when I’m coming home. Try to explain whereI’ve gone, if you can. Tell him he can have all my things while I’maway, he’ll like that.”People seemed to be asking a great deal of him today, TyrionLannister thought. “You could put all this in a letter, you know.”“Rickon can’t read yet. Bran ...”

“I know.” Jon sounded strangely sad.

“The watch commander tells me I must walk, to keep my bloodfrom freezing, but he never said how fast.”

The Royce boy

You might send youngSnow. He would be glad for a chance to see his brothers.”

Even his raven joined in, cawing loudly from abovethe window. “Duel! Duel! Duel!”

He hopped up on his chair and began poking at Thorne’schest with the tiny fork.

“War?” The fear was plain on Catelyn’s face.“It will not come to that,”

I have found you more than a friend. I have found a brother I’dthought lost.”

“As you say, my lord.” Catelyn lifted her face, and Ned kissed her.Her maimed ngers clutched against his back with a desperatestrength, as if to hold him safe forever in the shelter of her arms

You would be the last man I would willingly include in anyparty, Lord Baelish.”

The accusation is treason either way. Accuse the kingand you will dance with Ilyn Payne before the words are out of yourmouth.

Whatwas it that Jon had said when they found the pups in the snow?Your children were meant to have these pups, my lord. And he hadkilled Sansa’s, and for what? Was it guilt he was feeling? Or fear? Ifthe gods had sent these wolves, what folly had he done?

Inside, Catelyn was waiting. She cried out when she saw him, ranto him, and embraced him ercely.“My lady,” Ned whispered in wonderment.

“Your wife is inside,” Littlenger said.It was the nal insult. “Brandon was too kind to you,” Ned said ashe slammed the small man back against a wall and shoved hisdagger up under the little pointed chin beard.

He had only to look at Sansa’s faceto feel the rage twisting inside him once again. The last fortnight oftheir journey had been a misery. Sansa blamed Arya and told herthat it should have been Nymeria who died. And Arya was lost aftershe heard what had happened to her butcher’s boy. Sansa criedherself to sleep, Arya brooded silently all day long, and EddardStark dreamed of a frozen hell reserved for the Starks of Winterfell.

Of late I’ve had to turn to the Faith. TheHigh Septon haggles worse than a Dornish shmonger.”

Renly Baratheon laughed alou

“Here in the south, they say you are all made of ice, and meltwhen you ride below the Neck.”“I do not plan on melting soon, Lord Baelish. You may count onit.” Ned moved to the council table and said, “Maester Pycelle, Itrust you are well.”

“That was a grievous error, Lord Snow,” he said at last in theacid tones of an enemy.

“I’ll take that wager, Ser Alliser,” Jon said. “I’d love to see Ghostjuggle.”

Jon smiled at him. “I’m sorry about your wrist. Robb used thesame move on me once, only with a wooden blade. It hurt likeseven hells, but yours must be worse. Look, if you want, I can showyou how to defend that.”

Jon ran down the stairs, a smile on his face and Robb’s letter inhis hand. “My brother is going to live,” he told the guards. Theyexchanged a look. He ran back to the common hall, where he foundTyrion Lannister just nishing his meal. He grabbed the little manunder the arms, hoisted him up in the air, and spun him around in acircle. “Bran is going to live!” he whooped. Lannister looked startled.Jon put him down and thrust the paper into his hands. “Here, readit,” he said.

He realized he was crying.And then, through the tears, he found the sense in the words, andraised his head. “He woke up,” he said. “The gods gave him back.”“Crippled,” Mormont said. “I’m sorry, boy. Read the rest of theletter.”He looked at the words, but they didn’t matter. Nothing mattered.Bran was going to live. “My brother is going to live,” he toldMormont. The Lord Commander shook his head, gathered up a

kernels of corn. “I amtold you can read.” He shook the raven o,

Jon scarcely heard him. He brushed o Tyrion’s hand and strodeacross the hall. He was running by the time he hit the doors. Heraced to the Commander’s Keep, dashing through drifts of old snow.When the guards passed him, he took the tower steps two at a time.By the time he burst into the presence of the Lord Commander, hisboots were soaked and Jon was wild-eyed and panting. “Bran,” hesaid. “What does it say about Bran?”

His name day had come and gone, unremarked, afortnight past.

Once Castle Blackhad housed ve thousand ghting men with all their horses andservants and weapons. Now it was home to a tenth that number,and parts of it were falling into ruin.

nd west and vanishing in the far distance, immense and unbroken.This is the end of the world, it seemed to say

ou leave them nothing. You shame them.Does that make you proud?

In his dreams,she was beautiful, and highborn, and her eyes were kind.

little Rickon, bright eyes shining ashe begged for a sweet; Robb, his rival and best friend and constantcompanion; Bran, stubborn and curious, always wanting to followand join in whatever Jon and Robb were doing. He missed the girlstoo, even Sansa, who never called him anything but “my halfbrother” since she was old enough to understand what bastardmeant. And Arya ... he missed her even more than Robb, skinnylittle thing that she was, all scraped knees and tangled hair and tornclothes, so erce and willful. Arya never seemed to t, no more thanhe had ... yet she could always make Jon smile. He would giveanything to be with her now, to muss up her hair once more andwatch her make a face, to hear her nish a sentence with him.

As he watched his uncle lead his horse into the tunnel, Jon hadremembered the things that Tyrion Lannister told him on thekingsroad, and in his mind’s eye he saw Ben Stark lying dead, hisblood red on the snow. The thought made him sick. What was hebecoming? Afterward he sought out Ghost in the loneliness of hiscell, and buried his face in his thick white fur.

on wondered if hisfather had known what the Wall would be like. He must have, hethought; that only made it hurt the worse.

“Tyrion Lannister.”

Old sweet friends shouldnever hesitate to rely upon each other.

and he had grown into a small man, an inch ortwo shorter than Catelyn, slender and quick, with the sharp features

Then she thought, Moreo. The Tyroshi knew who they were andwhere they were, damn him.

When his brother Robb burst into the room, breathless from hisdash up the tower steps, the direwolf was licking Bran’s face. Branlooked up calmly. “His name is Summer,” he said.

It had three eyes, and the third eye was full of a terribleknowledge.

Over them both loomed a giant in armor madeof stone, but when he opened his visor, there was nothing inside butdarkness and thick black blood

A storm was gathering ahead of them, a vast dark roaring lashed bylightning, but somehow they could not see it.

When it felt Bran watching, it liftedits eyes from the still waters and stared back at him knowingly.

The Hound’s eyes seemed to glitter through the steel of thathideous dog’s-head helm. “He ran.” He looked at Ned’s face andlaughed. “But not very fast.”

When it was over, he said, “Choose four men and have them takethe body north. Bury her at Winterfell.”“All that way?” Jory said, astonished.“All that way,” Ned armed. “The Lannister woman shall neverhave this skin.”

He left the room with his eyes burning and his daughter’s wailsechoing in his ears, and found the direwolf pup where they chainedher. Ned sat beside her for a while. “Lady,” he said, tasting thename. He had never paid much attention to the names the childrenhad picked, but looking at her now, he knew that Sansa had chosenwell. She was the smallest of the litter, the prettiest, the most gentleand trusting. She looked at him with bright golden eyes, and herued her thick grey fur.

They were all staring at him, but it was Sansa’s look that cut. “Sheis of the north. She deserves better than a butcher.”

“Do it yourselfthen, Robert,” he said in a voice cold and sharp as steel. “At leasthave the courage to do it yourself.”Robert looked at Ned with at, dead eyes and left without a word,his footsteps heavy as lead. Silence lled the hall.

“Stop them,” Sansa pleaded, “don’t let them do it, please, please,it wasn’t Lady, it was Nymeria, Arya did it, you can’t, it wasn’t Lady,don’t let them hurt Lady, I’ll make her be good, I promise, Ipromise ...” She started to cry.

“We have a wolf,” Cersei Lannister said. Her voice was very quiet,but her green eyes shone with triumph.

Robert started to walk away, but the queen was not done. “Andwhat of the direwolf?” she called after him. “What of the beast thatsavaged your son?”

Perchanc

“Jo told us what happened,” the queen said. “You and thebutcher boy beat him with clubs while you set your wolf on him.”

Lord Renly worea half smile that might mean anything,

Ned went to one knee and took her in his arms. She was shaking.“I’m sorry,” she sobbed, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”“I know,” he said. She felt so tiny in his arms, nothing but ascrawny little girl. It was hard to see how she had caused so muchtrouble. “Are you hurt?”

hen she saw him, she cried outand began to sob.

leaping, jaws closing around Jorey’s sword arm.

“Oh, I love riding,” Sansa said.

he gazed atJorey worshipfully.

“Aerys Targaryen had his tongue ripped out withhot pincers.”

One knight wore an intricate suit of white enameled scales,brilliant as a eld of new-fallen snow, with silver chasings andclasps that glittered in the sun. When he removed his helm, Sansasaw that he was an old man with hair as pale as his armor, yet heseemed strong and graceful for all that. From his shoulders hung thepure white cloak of the Kingsguard.

The two stranger knights exchanged a look. “Payne?” chuckledthe young man in the green armor.The older man in white spoke to Sansa gently. “Ofttimes Ser Ilynfrightens me as well, sweet lady. He has a fearsome aspect.

Cradled under one arm wasan antlered helm, its magnicent rack shimmering in gold.

like their half brother Jon. She even looked likeJon, with the long face and brown hair of the Starks, and nothing oftheir lady mother in her face or her coloring. And Jon’s mother hadbeen common, or so people whispered.

he was almost in tears. All she wanted was forthings to be nice and pretty, the way they were in the songs. Whycouldn’t Arya be sweet and delicate and kind, like PrincessMyrcella? She would have liked a sister like that.

One day she came backgrinning her horsey grin, her hair all tangled and her clothescovered in mud, clutching a raggedy bunch of purple and greenowers for Father. Sansa kept hoping he would tell Arya to behaveherself and act like the highborn lady she was supposed to be, buthe never did, he only hugged her and thanked her for the owers.

Sansa did not really know Jorey yet, but she was already inlove with him.

Ser Rodrik

“Mylady, if it comes to that, my House owes yours a great debt.”

Abashed, Robb sheathed his sword, suddenly a child again

“Gods,” Robb swore, his young face dark with anger. “If this istrue, he will pay for it.” He drew his sword and waved it in the air.“I’ll kill him myself!”Ser Rodrik bristled at him. “Put that away!

“Even the Kingslayer would inchat the murder of an innocent child.”“Oh, would he?” Theon Greyjoy asked. “I wonder.”

“Lord Eddard is a second father to me,” said Theon Greyjoy. “I doso swear.”

“Someone is afraid Bran might wake up,” Robb said, “afraid ofwhat he might say or do, afraid of something he knows.”

Catelyn remembered the way she had been before, and she wasashamed. She had let them all down, her children, her husband, herHouse. It would not happen again. She would show thesenortherners how strong a Tully of Riverrun could be

It was Bran’s wolf, sherealized. Of course it was. “Thank you,” Catelyn whispered, hervoice faint and tiny. She lifted her hand, trembling. The wolfpadded closer, snied at her ngers, then licked at the blood with awet rough tongue. When it had cleaned all the blood o her hand, itturned away silently and jumped up on Bran’s bed and lay downbeside him. Catelyn began to laugh hysterically.That was the way they found them, when Robb and MaesterLuwin and Ser Rodrik burst in with half the guards in Winterfell.When the laughter nally died in her throat, they wrapped her inwarm blankets and led her back to the Great Keep, to her ownchambers. Old Nan undressed her and helped her into a scalding hotbath and washed the blood o her with a soft cloth.

into her ear. Her ngers were slippery with blood, but she wouldnot let go of the dagger. The hand over her mouth clenched moretightly, shutting o her air. Catelyn twisted her head to the side andmanaged to get a piece of his esh between her teeth. She bit downhard into his palm. The man grunted in pain. She ground her teethtogether and tore at him, and all of a sudden he let go. The taste ofhis blood lled her mouth.

he watched the smoke riseinto the sky and thought sadly of all the books the Starks hadgathered over the centuries. Then she closed the shutters

Catelyn said a silent prayer of thanks to the seven faces of god asshe went to the window.

there was no way the re would reach them here.“Thank the gods,” she whispered.Robb looked at her as if she’d gone mad

She didn’t remember falling to the oor, but there she was, andRobb was lifting her, holding her in strong arms. “Don’t be afraid,Mother. They would never hurt him.” He helped her to her narrowbed in the corner of the sickroom. “Close your eyes,” he said gently.“Rest. Maester Luwin tells me you’ve hardly slept since Bran’s fall.”“I can’t,” she wept. “Gods forgive me, Robb, I can’t, what if hedies while I’m asleep, what if he dies, what if he dies ...” The wolveswere still howling. She screamed and held her ears again. “Oh, gods,close the window!”“If you swear to me you’ll sleep.” Robb went to the window,

“Make them stop!” she cried. “I can’tstand it, make them stop, make them stop, kill them all if you must,just make them stop!”

“Rickon needs you,” Robb said sharply. “He’s only three, hedoesn’t understand what’s happening. He thinks everyone hasdeserted him, so he follows me around all day, clutching my leg andcrying. I don’t know what to do with him.” He paused a moment,chewing on his lower lip the way he’d done when he was little.“Mother, I need you too. I’m trying but I can’t ... I can’t do it all bymyself.” His voice broke with sudden emotion, and Catelynremembered that he was only fourteen. She wanted to get up and goto him, but Bran was still holding her hand and she could not move.

“Whatam I doing?” she echoed, puzzled. “How can you ask that? What doyou imagine I’m doing? I am taking care of your brother. I amtaking care of Bran.”

“My son lies here broken and dying, Luwin, and you wish todiscuss a new master of horse? Do you think I care what happens inthe stables? Do you think it matters to me one whit? I would gladlybutcher every horse in Winterfell with my own hands if it wouldopen Bran’s eyes, do you understand that? Do you?”

The boy stood near the re, his face still and hard, lookingdeep into the ames.Tyrion Lannister smiled sadly and went to bed.

“Maybe he thought you were a grumkin.”Tyrion glanced at him sharply. Then he laughed, a raw snort ofamusement that came bursting out through his nose entirely withouthis permission. “Oh, gods,” he said, choking on his laughter andshaking his head, “I suppose I do rather look like a grumkin. Whatdoes he do to snarks?”“You don’t want to know.” Jon picked up the wineskin andhanded it to Tyrion.

Jon Snow stroked Ghost’s thick white fur, smiling now. “Ask menicely.”

Sullen peasants, debtors,poachers, rapers, thieves, and bastards like you all wind up on theWall, watching for grumkins and snarks and all the other monstersyour wet nurse warned you about.

Sometimes I’d imagine my fatherburning. At other times, my sister.” Jon Snow was staring at him, alook equal parts horror and fascination. Tyrion guawed. “Don’tlook at me that way, bastard. I know your secret. You’ve dreamt thesame kind of dreams.”“No,” Jon Snow said, horried. “I wouldn’t ...”“No? Never?” Tyrion raised an eyebrow. “Well, no doubt theStarks have been terribly good to you. I’m certain Lady Stark treatsyou as if you were one of her own. And your brother Robb, he’salways been kind, and why not? He gets Winterfell and you get theWall. And your father ... he must have good reasons for packing youo to the Night’s Watch ...”“Stop it,” Jon Snow said, his face dark with anger. “The Night’sWatch is a noble calling!”

Whoever his mother had been, she had left little of herself in herson.

My father was the Hand of the King for twentyyears

She would lose all four of them, then: Ned, and both girls,and her sweet, loving Bran. Only Robb and little Rickon would beleft to her. She felt lonely already. Winterfell was such a vast place.

No doubt the boy had made the mistake of thinking that theNight’s Watch was made up of men like his uncle. If so, Yoren andhis companions were a rude awakening. Tyrion felt sorry for theboy. He had chosen a hard life ... or perhaps he should say that ahard life had been chosen for him.

Tyrion turned north with Benjen Stark and his nephew.

Not for the rst time,he wondered what he was doing here and why he had come. He wasno Jon Arryn, to curb the wildness of his king and teach himwisdom. Robert would do what he pleased, as he always had, andnothing Ned could say or do would change that. He belonged inWinterfell. He belonged with Catelyn in her grief, and with Bran.

“Well, nowI know Jaime’s dark sin, and the matter can be forgotten. I amheartily sick of secrets and squabbles and matters of state, Ned. It’sall as tedious as counting coppers. Come, let’s ride, you used toknow how. I want to feel the wind in my hair again.” He kicked hishorse back into motion and galloped up over the barrow, rainingearth down behind him.

He was seatedon the Iron Throne,

Troubledsleep was no stranger to him. He had lived his lies for fourteenyears, yet they still haunted him at night

So the mad king had orderedhis last mad act.

Aerys Targaryen must have thought thathis gods had answered his prayers when Lord Tywin Lannisterappeared before the gates of King’s Landing with an army twelve

“It’s Jaime Lannister, is it not?”

I would be mad to rest one quarterof the realm on the shoulders of a sickly child.”

dashed his headagainst a wall

He remembered the angry words they hadexchanged when Tywin Lannister had presented Robert with thecorpses of Rhaegar’s wife and children as a token of fealty. Ned hadnamed that murder; Robert called it war. When he had protestedthat the young prince and princess were no more than babes, hisnew-made king had replied, “I see no babes. Only dragonspawn.”Not even Jon Arryn had been able to calm that storm. Eddard Starkhad ridden out that very day in a cold rage, to ght the last battlesof the war alone in the south. It had taken another death toreconcile them; Lyanna’s death, and the grief they had shared overher passing.

Lord Varys

She feltlike a child once more, only thirteen and all alone, not ready forwhat was about to happen to her.

He liftedher up as easily as if she were a child

Magister Illyrio had warned Dany about this too. “A Dothrakiwedding without at least three deaths is deemed a dull aair,” hehad said. Her wedding must have been especially blessed; before theday was over, a dozen men had died.

Her brother had told her to smile, and so she smileduntil her face ached and the tears came unbidden to her eyes.

Her thighs were slickwith blood. She closed her eyes and whimpered. As if in answer,there was a hideous ripping sound and the crackling of some greatre. When she looked again, Viserys was gone, great columns ofame rose all around, and in the midst of them was the dragon. Itturned its great head slowly. When its molten eyes found hers, shewoke, shaking and covered with a ne sheen of sweat. She hadnever been so afraid ...

Daenerys Targaryen wed Khal Drogo with fear and barbaric

“Dierent roads sometimes lead to the same castle. Who knows?”

Arya knew what was coming next. They said it together.“... don’t ... tell ... Sansa!”Jon messed up her hair. “I will miss you, little sister.”Suddenly she looked like she was going to cry. “I wish you werecoming with us.”

Theblow stung, but Jon found himself grinning like an idiot. “I knowwhich end to use,” Arya said.

“Well, they’re going to get all messed up anyway,” she said. “Whocares how they’re folded?”

“Soon enough,” Robb promised. He pulled Jon to him andembraced him ercely. “Farewell, Snow.”Jon hugged him back. “And you, Stark. Take care of Bran.”“I will.” They broke apart and looked at each other awkwardly.“Uncle Benjen said to send you to the stables if I saw you,” Robbnally said.“I have one more farewell to make,” Jon told him.“Then I haven’t seen you,” Robb replied.

“It was always my color.

Robb knew something was wrong. “My mother ...”“She was ... very kind,” Jon told him.Robb looked relieved. “Good.” He smiled

Robb was in the middle of it, shouting commands with the best ofthem. He seemed to have grown of late, as if Bran’s fall and hismother’s collapse had somehow made him stronger. Grey Wind wasat his side.

Fingers like the bones of birds

Her eyes found him. They were full of poison. “I need none ofyour absolution, bastard.”

“I prayed for it,” she said dully. “He was my special boy. I went tothe sept and prayed seven times to the seven faces of god that Nedwould change his mind and leave him here with me. Sometimesprayers are answered.”

The esh had all gone from him. Hisskin stretched tight over bones like sticks. Under the blanket, hislegs bent in ways that made Jon sick. His eyes were sunken deepinto black pits; open, but they saw nothing. The fall had shrunkenhim somehow. He looked half a leaf, as if the rst strong windwould carry him o to his grave.Yet under the frail cage of those shattered ribs, his chest rose andfell with each shallow breath.

Something cold moved in her eyes. “I told you to leave,” she said.“We don’t want you here.”

“Even if the boy does live, he will be a cripple. Worse than acripple. A grotesque. Give me a good clean death.”

“He could end his torment,” Jaime said. “I would, if it were myson. It would be a mercy.”

“I don’t want Brandon to die,” Tommen said timorously. He was asweet boy. Not like his brother, but then Jaime and Tyrion weresomewhat less than peas in a pod themselves

Tyrion wondered what it would be like to have a twin, anddecided that he would rather not know. Bad enough to face himselfin a looking glass every day. Another him was a thought toodreadful to contemplate.

Twins,male and female. They looked very much the part this morning.Both had chosen a deep green that matched their eyes. Their blondcurls were all a fashionable tumble, and gold ornaments shone atwrists and ngers and throats

“He has a large heart, our Robert,” Jaime said with a lazy smile.There was very little that Jaime took seriously. Tyrion knew thatabout his brother, and forgave it. During all the terrible long yearsof his childhood, only Jaime had ever shown him the smallestmeasure of aection or respect, and for that Tyrion was willing toforgive him most anything.

“I’m going to tell Mother!” Jorey exclaimed.Tyrion hit him again. Now both cheeks amed.

Tyrion Lannister reached up and slapped his nephew hard acrossthe face. The boy’s cheek began to redden.

“Seven,” Bran said, shaking with relief. His ngers had dug deepgouges in the man’s forearm. He let go sheepishly.The man looked over at the woman. “The things I do for love,” hesaid with loathing. He gave Bran a shove.

“Take my hand,” he said. “Before you fall.”

Inside the room, a man and a woman were wrestling. They wereboth naked.

He had to get closer, Bran realized. He had tosee who was talking.

He’s still in love with the sister, the insipid little deadsixteen-year-old.

“Mothers.” The man made the word sound like a curse. “I thinkbirthing does something to your minds. You are all mad.” Helaughed. It was a bitter sound.

Later, Maester Luwin built a little pottery boy and dressed him inBran’s clothes and ung him o the wall into the yard below, todemonstrate what would happen to Bran if he fell. That had beenfun, but afterward Bran just looked at the maester and said, “I’m notmade of clay. And anyhow, I never fall.”

Finally he got tired of the stick game and decided to go climbing.He hadn’t been up to the broken tower for weeks with everythingthat had happened, and this might be his last chance.

The twins Ser Erryk and Ser Arryk, who had died onone another’s swords hundreds of years ago, when brother foughtsister in the war the singers called the Dance of the Dragons.

ueen’s funny little brother hadall ridden out with them.

Jon looked down on the scene with a frown. “Jorey is truly alittle shit,” he told Arya.

Prince Tommen wasrolling in the dust, trying to get up and failing. All the paddingmade him look like a turtle on its back. Bran was standing over himwith upraised wooden sword, ready to whack him again once heregained his feet.

“A wolf with a sh in its mouth?”

The arms were divided down the middle; on one side was thecrowned stag of the royal House, on the other the lion of Lannister.“The Lannisters are proud,” Jon observed. “You’d think the royalsigil would be sucient, but no. He makes his mother’s House equalin honor to the king’s.”

Jon looked her over with all his fourteen-year-old wisdom

Arya gave back at him. Jongrinned, reached over, and messed up her hair. Arya ushed. Theyhad always been close. Jon had their father’s face, as she did. Theywere the only ones. Robb and Sansa and Bran and even little Rickonall took after the Tullys, with easy smiles and re in their hair.When Arya had been little, she had been afraid that meant that shewas a bastard too. It had been Jon she had gone to in her fear, andJon who had reassured her

The wolf pup loved her, even if no one else did.

Myrcella blinked at her and looked to her ladies for guidance. Butif she was uncertain,

“He’s our brother,” Arya said

“He’s going to marry her,” little Beth said dreamily, huggingherself. “Then Sansa will be queen of all the realm.”Sansa had the grace to blush. She blushed prettily.

I would sooner let Jon enjoy theselast few days. Summer will end soon enough, and childhood as well.When the time comes, I will tell him myself.”

Yet gladly would she have kissedthe maester just then. His was the perfect solution. Benjen Stark wasa Sworn Brother. Jon would be a son to him, the child he wouldnever have. And in time the boy would take the oath as well. Hewould father no sons who might someday contest with Catelyn’sown grandchildren for Winterfell.

but she had neverfound it in her to love Jon. She might have overlooked a dozenbastards for Ned’s sake, so long as they were out of sight. Jon wasnever out of sight, and as he grew, he looked more like Ned thanany of the trueborn sons she bore him. Somehow that made itworse

They whispered of Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning,deadliest of the seven knights of Aerys’s Kingsguard, and of howtheir young lord had slain him in single combat. And they told howafterward Ned had carried Ser Arthur’s sword back to the beautifulyoung sister who awaited him in a castle called Starfall on theshores of the Summer Sea. The Lady Ashara Dayne, tall and fair,

He had a man’s needs, after all, and they hadspent that year apart, Ned o at war in the south while sheremained safe in her father’s castle at Riverrun. Her thoughts weremore of Robb, the infant at her breast, than of the husband shescarcely knew.

“Keep him o the walls, then,” she said bravely. “You know howBran loves to climb.”

There must always be a Stark in Winterfell. Robb is fourteen. Soonenough, he will be a man grown. He must learn to rule, and I willnot be here for him. Make him part of your councils. He must beready when his time comes.”“Gods will, not for many years,” Maester Luwin murmured.

Was this to be her punishment? Never to see hisface again, nor to feel his arms around her?