A Game of Thrones 4-Book Bundle

die.”
    â€œHundreds of mine. Thousands of yours.”
    â€œYour garrison will perish to a man.”
    â€œI know that song. Do you sing it to the tune of ‘The Rains of Castamere’? My men would sooner die upon their feet fighting than on their knees beneath a headsman’s axe.”
    This is not going well.
“This defiance serves no purpose, ser. The war is done, and your Young Wolf is dead.”
    â€œMurdered in breach of all the sacred laws of hospitality.”
    â€œFrey’s work, not mine.”
    â€œCall it what you will. It stinks of Tywin Lannister.”
    Jaime could not deny that. “My father is dead as well.”
    â€œMay the Father judge him justly.”
    Now, there’s an awful prospect.
“I would have slain Robb Stark in the Whispering Wood, if I could have reached him. Some fools got in my way. Does it matter how the boy perished? He’s no less dead, and his kingdom died when he did.”
    â€œYou must be blind as well as maimed, ser. Lift your eyes, and you will see that the direwolf still flies above our walls.”
    â€œI’ve seen him. He looks lonely. Harrenhal has fallen. Seagard and Maidenpool. The Brackens have bent the knee, and they’ve got Tytos Blackwood penned up in Raventree. Piper, Vance, Mooton, all your bannermen have yielded. Only Riverrun remains. We have twenty times your numbers.”
    â€œTwenty times the men require twenty times the food. How well are you provisioned, my lord?”
    â€œWell enough to sit here till the end of days if need be, whilst you starve inside your walls.” He told the lie as boldly as he could and hoped his face did not betray him.
    The Blackfish was not deceived. “The end of your days, perhaps. Our own supplies are ample, though I fear we did not leave much in the fields for visitors.”
    â€œWe can bring food down from the Twins,” said Jaime, “or over the hills from the west, if it comes to that.”
    â€œIf you say so. Far be it from me to question the word of such an honorable knight.”
    The scorn in his voice made Jaime bristle. “There is a quicker way to decide the matter. A single combat. My champion against yours.”
    â€œI was wondering when you would get to that.” Ser Brynden laughed. “Who will it be? Strongboar? Addam Marbrand? Black Walder Frey?” He leaned forward. “Why not you and me, ser?”
    That would have been a sweet fight once,
Jaime thought,
fine fodder for the singers.
“When Lady Catelyn freed me, she made me swear not to take arms again against the Starks or Tullys.”
    â€œA most convenient oath, ser.”
    His face darkened. “Are you calling me a coward?”
    â€œNo. I am calling you a cripple.” The Blackfish nodded at Jaime’s golden hand. “We both know you cannot fight with that.”
    â€œI had two hands.”
Would you throw your life away for pride?
a voice inside him whispered. “Some might say a cripple and an old man are well matched. Free me from my vow to Lady Catelyn and I will meet you sword to sword. If I win, Riverrun is ours. If you slay me, we’ll lift the siege.”
    Ser Brynden laughed again. “Much as I would welcome the chance to take that golden sword away from you and cut out your black heart, your promises are worthless. I would gain nothing from your death but the pleasure of killing you, and I will not risk my own life for that . . . as small a risk as that may be.”
    It was a good thing that Jaime wore no sword; elsewise he would have ripped his blade out, and if Ser Brynden did not slay him, the archers on the walls most surely would. “Are there any terms you will accept?” he demanded of the Blackfish.
    â€œFrom you?” Ser Brynden shrugged. “No.”
    â€œWhy did you even come to treat with me?”
    â€œA siege is deadly dull. I wanted to see this stump of yours and hear whatever excuses you cared to offer up for your latest enormities. They were feebler than I’d hoped. You always disappoint, Kingslayer.” The Blackfish wheeled his mare and trotted back toward Riverrun. The portcullis descended with a rush, its iron spikes biting deep into the muddy ground.
    Jaime turned Honor’s head about for the long ride back to the Lannister siege lines. He could feel the eyes on him; the Tully men upon their battlements, the Freys across the river.
If they are not blind, they’ll