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    Of his uncle Kevan he saw no sign. Nor of Lancel. Only a maester emerged to greet him, with a grey robe flapping about his skinny legs. “Lord Commander, Darry is honored by this . . . unexpected visit. You must forgive our lack of preparations. We had been given to understand that you were bound for Riverrun.”
    â€œDarry was on my way,” lied Jaime.
Riverrun will keep.
And if perchance the siege had ended before he reached the castle, he would be spared the need to take up arms against House Tully.
    Dismounting, he handed Honor to a stableboy. “Will I find my uncle here?” He did not supply a name. Ser Kevan was the only uncle he had left, the last surviving son of Tytos Lannister.
    â€œNo, my lord. Ser Kevan took his leave of us after the wedding.” The maester pulled at the chain collar, as if it had grown too tight for him. “I know Lord Lancel will be pleased to see you and . . . and all your gallant knights. Though it pains me to confess that Darry cannot feed so many.”
    â€œWe have our own provisions. You are?”
    â€œMaester Ottomore, if it please my lord. Lady Amerei wished to welcome you herself, but she is seeing to the preparation of a feast in your honor. It is her hope that you and your chief knights and captains will join us at table this evening.”
    â€œA hot meal would be most welcome. The days have been cold and wet.” Jaime glanced about the yard, at the bearded faces of the sparrows.
Too many. And too many Freys as well.
“Where will I find Hardstone?”
    â€œWe had a report of outlaws beyond the Trident. Ser Harwyn took five knights and twenty archers and went to deal with them.”
    â€œAnd Lord Lancel?”
    â€œHe is at his prayers. His lordship has commanded us never to disturb him when he is praying.”
    He and Ser Bonifer should get on well.
“Very well.” There would be time enough to talk with his cousin later. “Show me to my chambers and have a bath brought up.”
    â€œIf it please my lord, we have put you in the Plowman’s Keep. I will show you there.”
    â€œI know the way.” Jaime was no stranger to this castle. He and Cersei had been guests here twice before, once on their way to Winterfell with Robert, and again on the way back to King’s Landing. Though small as castles went, it was larger than an inn, with good hunting along the river. Robert Baratheon had never been loath to impose upon the hospitality of his subjects.
    The keep was much as he recalled it. “The walls are still bare,” Jaime observed as the maester led him down a gallery.
    â€œLord Lancel hopes one day to cover them with hangings,” said Ottomore. “Scenes of piety and devotion.”
    Piety and devotion.
It was all he could do not to laugh. The walls had been bare on his first visit too. Tyrion had pointed out the squares of darker stone where tapestries had once hung. Ser Raymun could remove the hangings, but not the marks they’d left. Later, the Imp had slipped a handful of stags to one of Darry’s serving men for the key to the cellar where the missing tapestries were hidden. He showed them to Jaime by the light of a candle, grinning; woven portraits of all the Targaryen kings, from the first Aegon to the second Aenys. “If I tell Robert, mayhaps he’ll make
me
Lord of Darry,” the dwarf said, chortling.
    Maester Ottomore led Jaime to the top of the keep. “I trust you will be comfortable here, my lord. There is a privy, when nature calls. Your window looks out upon the godswood. The bedchamber adjoins her ladyship’s, with a servant’s cell between.”
    â€œThese were Lord Darry’s own apartments.”
    â€œYes, my lord.”
    â€œMy cousin is too kind. I did not intend to put Lancel out of his own bedchamber.”
    â€œLord Lancel has been sleeping in the sept.”
    Sleeping with the Mother and the Maiden, when he has a warm wife just through that door?
Jaime did not know whether to laugh or weep.
Maybe he is praying for his cock to harden.
In King’s Landing it had been rumored that Lancel’s wounds had left him incapable.
Still, he ought to have sense enough to try.
His cousin’s hold on his new lands would not be secure until he fathered a son on his half-Darry wife. Jaime had begun to rue the impulse that had brought him here. He gave thanks to Ottomore, reminded him about the bath, and had Peck see him