A Game of Thrones 4-Book Bundle

Stannis.”
    Ser Andrew and Ser Gerald exchanged a look. “There’s no time for that, Cousin,” Ser Andrew said.
    â€œI want to see him!” Edric insisted, louder.
    â€œHe does not want to see you.” Davos had to say something, to get the boy moving. “I am his Hand, I speak with his voice. Must I go to the king and tell him that you would not do as you were told? Do you know how angry that will make him? Have you ever seen your uncle angry?” He pulled off his glove and showed the boy the four fingers that Stannis had shortened. “I have.”
    It was all lies; there had been no anger in Stannis Baratheon when he cut the ends off his onion knight’s fingers, only an iron sense of justice. But Edric Storm had not been born then, and could not know that. And the threat had the desired effect. “He should not have done that,” the boy said, but he let Davos take him by the hand and draw him down the steps.
    The Bastard of Nightsong joined them at the cellar door. They walked quickly, across a shadowed yard and down some steps, under the stone tail of a frozen dragon. Lewys the Fishwife and Omer Blackberry waited at the postern gate, two guards bound and trussed at their feet. “The boat?” Davos asked them.
    â€œIt’s there,” Lewys said. “Four oarsmen. The galley is anchored just past the point.
Mad Prendos
.”
    Davos chuckled.
A ship named after a madman. Yes, that’s fitting
. Salla had a streak of the pirate’s black humor.
    He went to one knee before Edric Storm. “I must leave you now,” he said. “There’s a boat waiting, to row you out to a galley. Then it’s off across the sea. You are Robert’s son so I know you will be brave, no matter what happens.”
    â€œI will. Only . . .” The boy hesitated.
    â€œThink of this as an adventure, my lord.” Davos tried to sound hale and cheerful. “It’s the start of your life’s great adventure. May the Warrior defend you.”
    â€œAnd may the Father judge you justly, Lord Davos.” The boy went with his cousin Ser Andrew out the postern gate. The others followed, all but the Bastard of Nightsong.
May the Father judge me justly
, Davos thought ruefully. But it was the king’s judgment that concerned him now.
    â€œThese two?” asked Ser Rolland of the guards, when he had closed and barred the gate.
    â€œDrag them into a cellar,” said Davos. “You can cut them free when Edric’s safely under way.”
    The Bastard gave a curt nod. There were no more words to say; the easy part was done. Davos pulled his glove on, wishing he had not lost his luck. He had been a better man and a braver one with that bag of bones around his neck. He ran his shortened fingers through thinning brown hair, and wondered if it needed to be cut. He must look presentable when he stood before the king.
    Dragonstone had never seemed so dark and fearsome. He walked slowly, his footsteps echoing off black walls and dragons.
Stone dragons who will never wake, I pray
. The Stone Drum loomed huge ahead of him. The guards at the door uncrossed their spears as he approached.
Not for the onion knight, but for the King’s Hand
. Davos was the Hand going in, at least. He wondered what he would be coming out.
If I ever do
. . .
    The steps seemed longer and steeper than before, or perhaps it was just that he was tired.
The Mother never made me for tasks like this
. He had risen too high and too fast, and up here on the mountain the air was too thin for him to breathe. As a boy he’d dreamed of riches, but that was long ago. Later, grown, all he had wanted was a few acres of good land, a hall to grow old in, a better life for his sons. The Blind Bastard used to tell him that a clever smuggler did not overreach, nor draw too much attention to himself.
A few acres, a timbered roof, a “ser” before my name, I should have been content
. If he survived this night, he would take Devan and sail home to Cape Wrath and his gentle Marya.
We will grieve together for our dead sons, raise the living ones to be good men, and speak no more of kings
.
    The Chamber of the Painted Table was dark and empty when Davos entered; the king would still be at the nightfire, with Melisandre and the queen’s men. He knelt and made a fire in the hearth, to drive the chill from the round chamber and chase the shadows back into their corners. Then he went