A Game of Thrones 4-Book Bundle

seven green land gods. “Balon was mad, Aeron is madder, and Euron is maddest of them all,” Lord Baelor said. “What of you, Lord Captain? If I shout your name, will you make an end of this mad war?”
    Victarion frowned. “Would you have me bend the knee?”
    â€œIf need be. We cannot stand alone against all Westeros. King Robert proved that, to our grief. Balon would pay the iron price for freedom, he said, but our women bought Balon’s crowns with empty beds. My mother was one such. The Old Way is dead.”
    â€œWhat is dead can never die, but rises harder and stronger. In a hundred years men will sing of Balon the Bold.”
    â€œBalon the Widowmaker, call him. I will gladly trade his freedom for a father. Have you one to give me?” When Victarion did not answer, Blacktyde snorted and moved off.
    The tent grew hot and smoky. Two of Gorold Goodbrother’s sons knocked a table over fighting; Will Humble lost a wager and had to eat his boot; Little Lenwood Tawney fiddled whilst Romny Weaver sang “The Bloody Cup” and “Steel Rain” and other old reaving songs. Qarl the Maid and Eldred Codd danced the finger dance. A roar of laughter went up when one of Eldred’s fingers landed in Ralf the Limper’s wine cup.
    A woman was amongst those laughing. Victarion rose and saw her by the tent flap, whispering something in the ear of Qarl the Maid that made him laugh as well. He had hoped she would not be fool enough to come here, yet the sight of her made him smile all the same.
“Asha,”
he called in a commanding voice.
“Niece.”
    She made her way to his side, lean and lithe in high boots of salt-stained leather, green woolen breeches, and brown quilted tunic, a sleeveless leather jerkin half-unlaced. “Nuncle.” Asha Greyjoy was tall for a woman, yet she had to stand on her toes to kiss his cheek. “I am pleased to see you at my queensmoot.”
    â€œQueensmoot?” Victarion laughed. “Are you drunk, niece? Sit. I did not spy your
Black Wind
on the strand.”
    â€œI beached her beneath Norne Goodbrother’s castle and rode across the island.” She sat upon a stool and helped herself unasked to Nute the Barber’s wine. Nute raised no objection; he had passed out drunk some time ago. “Who holds the Moat?”
    â€œRalf Kenning. With the Young Wolf dead, only the bog devils remain to plague us.”
    â€œThe Starks were not the only northmen. The Iron Throne has named the Lord of the Dreadfort as Warden of the North.”
    â€œWould you lesson me in warfare? I was fighting battles when you were sucking mother’s milk.”
    â€œAnd losing battles too.” Asha took a drink of wine.
    Victarion did not like to be reminded of Fair Isle. “Every man should lose a battle in his youth, so he does not lose a war when he is old. You have not come to make a claim, I hope.”
    She teased him with a smile. “And if I have?”
    â€œThere are men who remember when you were a little girl, swimming naked in the sea and playing with your doll.”
    â€œI played with axes too.”
    â€œYou did,” he had to grant, “but a woman wants a husband, not a crown. When I am king I’ll give you one.”
    â€œMy nuncle is so good to me. Shall I find a pretty wife for you, when I am queen?”
    â€œI have no luck with wives. How long have you been here?”
    â€œLong enough to see that Uncle Damphair has woken more than he intended. The Drumm means to make a claim, and Tarle the Thrice-Drowned was heard to say that Maron Volmark is the true heir of the black line.”
    â€œThe king must be a kraken.”
    â€œThe Crow’s Eye is a kraken. The elder brother comes before the younger.” Asha leaned close. “But I am the child of King Balon’s body, so I come before you both. Hear me, nuncle . . .”
    But then a sudden silence fell. The singing died, Little Lenwood Tawney lowered his fiddle, men turned their heads. Even the clatter of plates and knives was hushed.
    A dozen newcomers had entered the feast tent. Victarion saw Pinchface Jon Myre, Torwold Browntooth, Left-Hand Lucas Codd. Germund Botley crossed his arms against the gilded breastplate he had taken off a Lannister captain during Balon’s first rebellion. Orkwood of Orkmont stood beside him. Behind them were Stonehand, Quellon Humble, and the Red Oarsman with his fiery hair in