A Game of Thrones 4-Book Bundle

door and across a narrow yard, back to the cavernous stone barn where the work was done. When the armorer opened the door, the blast of hot air that came through made Ned feel as though he were walking into a dragon’s mouth. Inside, a forge blazed in each corner, and the air stank of smoke and sulfur. Journeymen armorers glanced up from their hammers and tongs just long enough to wipe the sweat from their brows, while bare-chested apprentice boys worked the bellows.
    The master called over a tall lad about Robb’s age, his arms and chest corded with muscle. “This is Lord Stark, the new Hand of the King,” he told him as the boy looked at Ned through sullen blue eyes and pushed back sweat-soaked hair with his fingers. Thick hair, shaggy and unkempt and black as ink. The shadow of a new beard darkened his jaw. “This is Gendry. Strong for his age, and he works hard. Show the Hand that helmet you made, lad.” Almost shyly, the boy led them to his bench, and a steel helm shaped like a bull’s head, with two great curving horns.
    Ned turned the helm over in his hands. It was raw steel, unpolished but expertly shaped. “This is fine work. I would be pleased if you would let me buy it.”
    The boy snatched it out of his hands. “It’s not for sale.”
    Tobho Mott looked horror-struck. “Boy, this is the King’s Hand. If his lordship wants this helm, make him a gift of it. He honors you by asking.”
    â€œI made it for me,” the boy said stubbornly.
    â€œA hundred pardons, my lord,” his master said hurriedly to Ned. “The boy is crude as new steel, and like new steel would profit from some beating. That helm is journeyman’s work at best. Forgive him and I promise I will craft you a helm like none you have ever seen.”
    â€œHe’s done nothing that requires my forgiveness. Gendry, when Lord Arryn came to see you, what did you talk about?”
    â€œHe asked me questions is all, m’lord.”
    â€œWhat sort of questions?”
    The boy shrugged. “How was I, and was I well treated, and if I liked the work, and stuff about my mother. Who she was and what she looked like and all.”
    â€œWhat did you tell him?” Ned asked.
    The boy shoved a fresh fall of black hair off his forehead. “She died when I was little. She had yellow hair, and sometimes she used to sing to me, I remember. She worked in an alehouse.”
    â€œDid Lord Stannis question you as well?”
    â€œThe bald one? No, not him. He never said no word, just glared at me, like I was some raper who done for his daughter.”
    â€œMind your filthy tongue,” the master said. “This is the King’s own Hand.” The boy lowered his eyes. “A smart boy, but stubborn. That helm … the others call him bullheaded, so he threw it in their teeth.”
    Ned touched the boy’s head, fingering the thick black hair. “Look at me, Gendry.” The apprentice lifted his face. Ned studied the shape of his jaw, the eyes like blue ice.
Yes
, he thought,
I see it
. “Go back to your work, lad. I’m sorry to have bothered you.” He walked back to the house with the master. “Who paid the boy’s apprentice fee?” he asked lightly.
    Mott looked fretful. “You saw the boy. Such a strong boy. Those hands of his, those hands were made for hammers. He had such promise, I took him on without a fee.”
    â€œThe truth now,” Ned urged. “The streets are full of strong boys. The day you take on an apprentice without a fee will be the day the Wall comes down. Who paid for him?”
    â€œA lord,” the master said reluctantly. “He gave no name, and wore no sigil on his coat. He paid in gold, twicethe customary sum, and said he was paying once for the boy, and once for my silence.”
    â€œDescribe him.”
    â€œHe was stout, round of shoulder, not so tall as you. Brown beard, but there was a bit of red in it, I’ll swear. He wore a rich cloak, that I do remember, heavy purple velvet worked with silver threads, but the hood shadowed his face and I never did see him clear.” He hesitated a moment. “My lord, I want no trouble.”
    â€œNone of us wants trouble, but I fear these are troubled times, Master Mott,” Ned said. “You know who the boy is.”
    â€œI am only an armorer, my lord. I know what I’m told.”
    â€œYou know who the boy