A Game of Thrones 4-Book Bundle

comings and goings.
    â€œSer Hugh of the Vale,” Littlefinger named him. “The king knighted the boy after Lord Arryn’s death.”
    â€œI shall send for him,” Ned said. “And the others.”
    Littlefinger winced. “My lord, step over here to the window, if you would be so kind.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œCome, and I’ll show you, my lord.”
    Frowning, Ned crossed to the window. Petyr Baelish made a casual gesture. “There, across the yard, at the door of the armory, do you see the boy squatting by the steps honing a sword with an oilstone?”
    â€œWhat of him?”
    â€œHe reports to Varys. The Spider has taken a great interest in you and all your doings.” He shifted in the window seat. “Now glance at the wall. Farther west, above the stables. The guardsman leaning on the ramparts?”
    Ned saw the man. “Another of the eunuch’s whisperers?”
    â€œNo, this one belongs to the queen. Notice that he enjoys a fine view of the door to this tower, the better tonote who calls on you. There are others, many unknown even to me. The Red Keep is full of eyes. Why do you think I hid Cat in a brothel?”
    Eddard Stark had no taste for these intrigues. “Seven hells,” he swore. It
did
seem as though the man on the walls was watching him. Suddenly uncomfortable, Ned moved away from the window. “Is everyone someone’s informer in this cursed city?”
    â€œScarcely,” said Littlefinger. He counted on the fingers on his hand. “Why, there’s me, you, the king … although, come to think on it, the king tells the queen much too much, and I’m less than certain about you.” He stood up. “Is there a man in your service that you trust utterly and completely?”
    â€œYes,” said Ned.
    â€œIn that case, I have a delightful palace in Valyria that I would dearly love to sell you,” Littlefinger said with a mocking smile. “The wiser answer was
no
, my lord, but be that as it may. Send this paragon of yours to Ser Hugh and the others. Your own comings and goings will be noted, but even Varys the Spider cannot watch every man in your service every hour of the day.” He started for the door.
    â€œLord Petyr,” Ned called after him. “I … am grateful for your help. Perhaps I was wrong to distrust you.”
    Littlefinger fingered his small pointed beard. “You are slow to learn, Lord Eddard. Distrusting me was the wisest thing you’ve done since you climbed down off your horse.”

JON
    J on was showing Dareon how best to deliver a sidestroke when the new recruit entered the practice yard. “Your feet should be farther apart,” he urged. “You don’t want to lose your balance. That’s good. Now pivot as you deliver the stroke, get all your weight behind the blade.”
    Dareon broke off and lifted his visor. “Seven gods,” he murmured. “Would you look at this, Jon.”
    Jon turned. Through the eye slit of his helm, he beheld the fattest boy he had ever seen standing in the door of the armory. By the look of him, he must have weighed twenty stone. The fur collar of his embroidered surcoat was lost beneath his chins. Pale eyes moved nervously in a great round moon of a face, and plump sweaty fingers wiped themselves on the velvet of his doublet. “They … they told me I was to come here for … for training,” he said to no one in particular.
    â€œA lordling,” Pyp observed to Jon. “Southron, most like near Highgarden.” Pyp had traveled the Seven Kingdoms with a mummers’ troupe, and bragged that he could tell what you were and where you’d been born just from the sound of your voice.
    A striding huntsman had been worked in scarlet thread upon the breast of the fat boy’s fur-trimmed surcoat. Jon did not recognize the sigil. Ser Alliser Thorne looked over his new charge and said, “It would seem they have run short of poachers and thieves down south. Now they send us pigs to man the Wall. Is fur and velvet your notion of armor, my Lord of Ham?”
    It was soon revealed that the new recruit had brought his own armor with him; padded doublet, boiled leather, mail and plate and helm, even a great wood-and-leather shield blazoned with the same striding huntsman he wore on his surcoat. As none of it was black, however, Ser Alliser insisted that he reequip