A Game of Thrones 4-Book Bundle

lady mother?” The man moved forward, a torch in his left hand. “This is even more ghastly than my cell at Riverrun, though not quite so dank.”
    For a moment Tyrion could not breathe. “You?”
    â€œWell, most of me.” Jaime was gaunt, his hair hacked short. “I left a hand at Harrenhal. Bringing the Brave Companions across the narrow sea was not one of Father’s better notions.” He lifted his arm, and Tyrion saw the stump.
    A bark of hysterical laughter burst from his lips. “Oh, gods,” he said. “Jaime, I am so sorry, but . . . gods be good, look at the two of us. Handless and Noseless, the Lannister boys.”
    â€œThere were days when my hand smelled so bad I wished I was noseless.” Jaime lowered the torch, so the light bathed his brother’s face. “An impressive scar.”
    Tyrion turned away from the glare. “They made me fight a battle without my big brother to protect me.”
    â€œI heard tell you almost burned the city down.”
    â€œA filthy lie. I only burned the river.” Abruptly, Tyrion remembered where he was, and why. “Are you here to kill me?”
    â€œNow that’s ungrateful. Perhaps I should leave you here to rot if you’re going to be so discourteous.”
    â€œRotting is not the fate Cersei has in mind for me.”
    â€œWell no, if truth be told. You’re to be beheaded on the morrow, out on the old tourney grounds.”
    Tyrion laughed again. “Will there be food? You’ll have to help me with my last words, my wits have been running about like a rat in a root cellar.”
    â€œYou won’t need last words. I’m rescuing you.” Jaime’s voice was strangely solemn.
    â€œWho said I required rescue?”
    â€œYou know, I’d almost forgotten what an annoying little man you are. Now that you’ve reminded me, I do believe I’ll let Cersei cut your head off after all.”
    â€œOh no you won’t.” He waddled out of the cell. “Is it day or night up above? I’ve lost all sense of time.”
    â€œThree hours past midnight. The city sleeps.” Jaime slid the torch back into its sconce, on the wall between the cells.
    The corridor was so poorly lit that Tyrion almost stumbled on the turnkey, sprawled across the cold stone floor. He prodded him with a toe. “Is he dead?”
    â€œAsleep. The other three as well. The eunuch dosed their wine with sweetsleep, but not enough to kill them. Or so he swears. He is waiting back at the stair, dressed up in a septon’s robe. You’re going down into the sewers, and from there to the river. A galley is waiting in the bay. Varys has agents in the Free Cities who will see that you do not lack for funds . . . but try not to be conspicuous. Cersei will send men after you, I have no doubt. You might do well to take another name.”
    â€œAnother name? Oh, certainly. And when the Faceless Men come to kill me, I’ll say, ‘No, you have the wrong man, I’m a
different
dwarf with a hideous facial scar.’” Both Lannisters laughed at the absurdity of it all. Then Jaime went to one knee and kissed him quickly once on each cheek, his lips brushing against the puckered ribbon of scar tissue.
    â€œThank you, Brother,” Tyrion said. “For my life.”
    â€œIt was . . . a debt I owed you.” Jaime’s voice was strange.
    â€œA debt?” He cocked his head. “I do not understand.”
    â€œGood. Some doors are best left closed.”
    â€œOh, dear,” said Tyrion. “Is there something grim and ugly behind it? Could it be that someone said something
cruel
about me once? I’ll try not to weep. Tell me.”
    â€œTyrion . . .”
    Jaime is afraid
. “Tell me,” Tyrion said again.
    His brother looked away. “Tysha,” he said softly.
    â€œTysha?” His stomach tightened. “What of her?”
    â€œShe was no whore. I never bought her for you. That was a lie that Father commanded me to tell. Tysha was . . . she was what she seemed to be. A crofter’s daughter, chance met on the road.”
    Tyrion could hear the faint sound of his own breath whistling hollowly through the scar of his nose. Jaime could not meet his eyes.
Tysha
. He tried to remember what she had looked like.
A girl, she was only a girl, no older than Sansa
. “My wife,” he croaked. “She wed me.”
    â€œFor your gold,