A Game of Thrones 4-Book Bundle

beneath tall narrow windows. In the center of the room the dwarf stood with his servants, and four strangers in the black of the Night’s Watch. Bran could sense the anger in the hall the moment that Hodor carried him through the doors.
    â€œAny man of the Night’s Watch is welcome here at Winterfell for as long as he wishes to stay,” Robb was saying with the voice of Robb the Lord. His sword was across his knees, the steel bare for all the world to see. Even Bran knew what it meant to greet a guest with an unsheathed sword.
    â€œAny man of the Night’s Watch,” the dwarf repeated, “but not me, do I take your meaning, boy?”
    Robb stood and pointed at the little man with his sword. “I am the lord here while my mother and father are away, Lannister. I am not your boy.”
    â€œIf you are a lord, you might learn a lord’s courtesy,” the little man replied, ignoring the sword point in his face. “Your bastard brother has all your father’s graces, it would seem.”
    â€œJon,”
Bran gasped out from Hodor’s arms.
    The dwarf turned to look at him. “So it is true, the boy lives. I could scarce believe it. You Starks are hard to kill.”
    â€œYou Lannisters had best remember that,” Robb said, lowering his sword. “Hodor, bring my brother here.”
    â€œHodor,” Hodor said, and he trotted forward smiling and set Bran in the high seat of the Starks, where the Lords of Winterfell had sat since the days when they called themselves the Kings in the North. The seat was cold stone, polished smooth by countless bottoms; the carved heads of direwolves snarled on the ends of its massive arms. Bran clasped them as he sat, his useless legs dangling. The great seat made him feel half a baby.
    Robb put a hand on his shoulder. “You said you had business with Bran. Well, here he is, Lannister.”
    Bran was uncomfortably aware of Tyrion Lannister’s eyes. One was black and one was green, and both were looking at him, studying him, weighing him. “I am told you were quite the climber, Bran,” the little man said at last. “Tell me, how is it you happened to fall that day?”
    â€œI
never,”
Bran insisted. He never fell, never never
never
.
    â€œThe child does not remember anything of the fall, or the climb that came before it,” said Maester Luwin gently.
    â€œCurious,” said Tyrion Lannister.
    â€œMy brother is not here to answer questions, Lannister,” Robb said curtly. “Do your business and be on your way.”
    â€œI have a gift for you,” the dwarf said to Bran. “Do you like to ride, boy?”
    Maester Luwin came forward. “My lord, the child has lost the use of his legs. He cannot sit a horse.”
    â€œNonsense,” said Lannister. “With the right horse and the right saddle, even a cripple can ride.”
    The word was a knife through Bran’s heart. He felt tears come unbidden to his eyes. “I’m
not a
cripple!”
    â€œThen I am not a dwarf,” the dwarf said with a twist of his mouth. “My father will rejoice to hear it.” Greyjoy laughed.
    â€œWhat sort of horse and saddle are you suggesting?” Maester Luwin asked.
    â€œA smart horse,” Lannister replied. “The boy cannotuse his legs to command the animal, so you must shape the horse to the rider, teach it to respond to the reins, to the voice. I would begin with an unbroken yearling, with no old training to be unlearned,” He drew a rolled paper from his belt. “Give this to your saddler. He will provide the rest.”
    Maester Luwin took the paper from the dwarf’s hand, curious as a small grey squirrel. He unrolled it, studied it. “I see. You draw nicely, my lord. Yes, this ought to work. I should have thought of this myself.”
    â€œIt came easier to me, Maester. It is not terribly unlike my own saddles.”
    â€œWill I truly be able to ride?” Bran asked. He wanted to believe them, but he was afraid. Perhaps it was just another lie. The crow had promised him that he could fly.
    â€œYou will,” the dwarf told him. “And I swear to you, boy, on horseback you will be as tall as any of them.”
    Robb Stark seemed puzzled. “Is this some trap, Lannister? What’s Bran to you? Why should you want to help him?”
    â€œYour brother Jon asked it of me. And I have a tender spot in my heart for cripples and