A Game of Thrones 4-Book Bundle

West. Lord Redwyne’s ships have passed through the Straits of Tarth and are moving swiftly up the coast. Only a few fishing boats remain on Dragonstone to oppose Redwyne’s landing. The castle may hold for some time, but once we have the port we can cut the garrison off from the sea. Then only Stannis himself will remain to vex us.”
    â€œIf Lord Janos can be believed, he is trying to make common cause with the wildlings,” warned Grand Maester Pycelle.
    â€œSavages in skins,” declared Lord Merryweather. “Lord Stannis must be desperate indeed, to seek such allies.”
    â€œDesperate and foolish,” the queen agreed. “The northmen hate the wildlings. Roose Bolton should have no trouble winning them to our cause. A few have already joined up with his bastard son to help him clear the wretched ironmen from Moat Cailin and clear the way for Lord Bolton to return. Umber, Ryswell . . . I forget the other names. Even White Harbor is on the point of joining us. Its lord has agreed to marry both his granddaughters to our friends of Frey and open his port to our ships.”
    â€œI thought we had no ships,” Ser Harys said, confused.
    â€œWyman Manderly was a loyal bannerman to Eddard Stark,” said Grand Maester Pycelle. “Can such a man be trusted?
    No one can be trusted.
“He’s a fat old man, and frightened. However, he is proving stubborn on one point. He insists that he will not bend the knee until his heir has been returned to him.”
    â€œDo we have this heir?” asked Ser Harys.
    â€œHe will be at Harrenhal, if he is still alive. Gregor Clegane took him captive.” The Mountain had not always been gentle with his prisoners, even those worth a goodly ransom. “If he is dead, I suppose we will need to send Lord Manderly the heads of those who killed him, with our most sincere apologies.” If one head was enough to appease a prince of Dorne, a bag of them should be more than adequate for a fat northman wrapped in sealskins.
    â€œWill not Lord Stannis seek to win the allegiance of White Harbor as well?” asked Grand Maester Pycelle.
    â€œOh, he has tried. Lord Manderly has sent his letters on to us and replied with evasions. Stannis demands White Harbor’s swords and silver, for which he offers . . . well,
nothing
.” One day she must light a candle to the Stranger for carrying Renly off and leaving Stannis. If it had been the other way around, her life would have been harder. “Just this morning there was another bird. Stannis has sent his onion smuggler to treat with White Harbor on his behalf. Manderly has clapped the wretch inside a cell. He asks us what he should do with him.”
    â€œSend him here, that we might question him,” suggested Lord Merryweather. “The man might know much of value.”
    â€œLet him die,” said Qyburn. “His death will be a lesson to the north, to show them what becomes of traitors.”
    â€œI quite agree,” the queen said. “I have instructed Lord Manderly to have his head off forthwith. That should put an end to any chance of White Harbor supporting Stannis.”
    â€œStannis will need another Hand,” observed Aurane Waters with a chuckle. “The turnip knight, perhaps?”
    â€œA turnip knight?” said Ser Harys Swyft, confused. “Who is this man? I have not heard of him.”
    Waters did not reply, except to roll his eyes.
    â€œWhat if Lord Manderly should refuse?” asked Merryweather.
    â€œHe dare not. The onion knight’s head is the coin he’ll need to buy his son’s life.” Cersei smiled. “The fat old fool may have been loyal to the Starks in his own way, but with the wolves of Winterfell extinguished—”
    â€œYour Grace has forgotten the Lady Sansa,” said Pycelle.
    The queen bristled. “I most certainly have
not
forgotten that little she-wolf.” She refused to say the girl’s name. “I ought to have shown her to the black cells as the daughter of a traitor, but instead I made her part of mine own household. She shared my hearth and hall, played with my own children. I fed her, dressed her, tried to make her a little less ignorant about the world, and how did she repay me for my kindness? She helped murder my son. When we find the Imp, we will find the Lady Sansa too. She is not dead . . . but before I am done with her, I promise you, she will be singing to the