A Game of Thrones 4-Book Bundle

was told to have them cleaned and tarred and mounted above the gate. “The swordswench did the rest.”
    â€œAll three?” Lord Randyll was incredulous.
    â€œThe way she fought, she could have killed three more.”
    â€œAnd did you find the Stark girl?” Tarly demanded of her.
    â€œNo, my lord.”
    â€œInstead you slew some rats. Did you enjoy it?”
    â€œNo, my lord.”
    â€œA pity. Well, you’ve had your taste of blood. Proved whatever it is you meant to prove. It’s time you took off that mail and donned proper clothes again. There are ships in port. One’s bound to stop at Tarth. I’ll have you on it.”
    â€œThank you, my lord, but no.”
    Lord Tarly’s face suggested he would have liked nothing better than to stick her own head on a spike and mount it above the gates of Maidenpool with Timeon, Pyg, and Shagwell. “You mean to continue with this folly?”
    â€œI mean to find the Lady Sansa.”
    â€œIf it please my lord,” Ser Hyle said, “I watched her fight the Mummers. She is stronger than most men, and quick—”
    â€œThe
sword
is quick,” Tarly snapped. “That is the nature of Valyrian steel. Stronger than most men? Aye. She’s a freak of nature, far be it from me to deny it.”
    His sort will never love me,
Brienne thought,
no matter what I do.
“My lord, it may be that Sandor Clegane has some knowledge of the girl. If I could find him . . .”
    â€œClegane’s turned outlaw. He rides with Beric Dondarrion now, it would seem. Or not, the tales vary. Show me where they’re hiding, I will gladly slit their bellies open, pull their entrails out, and burn them. We’ve hanged dozens of outlaws, but the leaders still elude us. Clegane, Dondarrion, the red priest, and now this woman Stoneheart . . . how do
you
propose to find them, when I cannot?”
    â€œMy lord, I . . .” She had no good answer for him. “All I can do is try.”
    â€œTry, then. You have your letter, you do not need my leave, but I’ll give it nonetheless. If you’re fortunate, all you’ll get for your trouble are saddle sores. If not, perhaps Clegane will let you live after he and his pack are done raping you. You can crawl back to Tarth with some dog’s bastard in your belly.”
    Brienne ignored that. “If it please my lord, how many men ride with the Hound?”
    â€œSix or sixty or six hundred. It would seem to depend on whom we ask.” Randyll Tarly had plainly had enough of the conversation. He started to turn away.
    â€œIf my squire and I might beg your hospitality until—”
    â€œBeg all you want. I will not suffer you beneath my roof.”
    Ser Hyle Hunt stepped forward. “If it please my lord, I had understood that it was still Lord Mooton’s roof.”
    Tarly gave the knight a venomous look. “Mooton has the courage of a worm. You will not speak to me of Mooton. As for you, my lady, it is said that your father is a good man. If so, I pity him. Some men are blessed with sons, some with daughters. No man deserves to be cursed with such as you. Live or die, Lady Brienne, do not return to Maidenpool whilst I rule here.”
    Words are wind,
Brienne told herself.
They cannot hurt you. Let them wash over you.
“As you command, my lord,” she tried to say, but Tarly had gone before she got it out. She walked from the yard like one asleep, not knowing where she was going.
    Ser Hyle fell in beside her. “There are inns.”
    She shook her head. She did not want words with Hyle Hunt.
    â€œDo you recall the Stinking Goose?”
    Her cloak still smelled of it. “Why?”
    â€œMeet me there on the morrow, at midday. My cousin Alyn was one of those sent out to find the Hound. I’ll speak with him.”
    â€œWhy would you do that?”
    â€œWhy not? If you succeed where Alyn failed, I shall be able to taunt him with that for years.”
    There were still inns in Maidenpool; Ser Hyle had not been wrong. Some had burned during one sack or the other, however, and had yet to be rebuilt, and those that remained were full to bursting with men from Lord Tarly’s host. She and Podrick visited all of them that afternoon, but there were no beds to be had anywhere.
    â€œSer? My lady?” Podrick said as the sun was going down. “There are ships. Ships have beds. Hammocks. Or bunks.”
    Lord Randyll’s men