A Game of Thrones 4-Book Bundle

cracked lips. “There were fiddlers outside the bedchamber . . .”
    â€œAnd Lady Roslin was distracting you.”
    â€œShe . . . they made her do it, Lord Walder and the rest. Roslin never wanted . . . she wept, but I thought it was . . .”
    â€œThe sight of your rampant manhood? Aye, that would make any woman weep, I’m sure.”
    â€œShe is carrying my child.”
    No,
Jaime thought,
that’s your death she has growing in her belly.
Back at his pavilion, he dismissed Strongboar and Ser Ilyn, but not the singer. “I may have need of a song shortly,” he told the man. “Lew, heat some bathwater for my guest. Pia, find him some clean clothing. Nothing with lions on it, if you please. Peck, wine for Lord Tully. Are you hungry, my lord?”
    Edmure nodded, but his eyes were still suspicious.
    Jaime settled on a stool while Tully had his bath. The filth came off in grey clouds. “Once you’ve eaten, my men will escort you to Riverrun. What happens after that is up to you.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œYour uncle is an old man. Valiant, yes, but the best part of his life is done. He has no bride to grieve for him, no children to defend. A good death is all the Blackfish can hope for . . . but you have years remaining, Edmure. And
you
are the rightful lord of House Tully, not him. Your uncle serves at your pleasure. The fate of Riverrun is in your hands.”
    Edmure stared. “The fate of Riverrun . . .”
    â€œYield the castle and no one dies. Your smallfolk may go in peace or stay to serve Lord Emmon. Ser Brynden will be allowed to take the black, along with as many of the garrison as choose to join him. You as well, if the Wall appeals to you. Or you may go to Casterly Rock as my captive and enjoy all the comforts and courtesy that befits a hostage of your rank. I’ll send your wife to join you, if you like. If her child is a boy, he will serve House Lannister as a page and a squire, and when he earns his knighthood we’ll bestow some lands upon him. Should Roslin give you a daughter, I’ll see her well dowered when she’s old enough to wed. You yourself may even be granted parole, once the war is done. All you need do is yield the castle.”
    Edmure raised his hands from the tub and watched the water run between his fingers. “And if I will not yield?”
    Must you make me say the words?
Pia was standing by the flap of the tent with her arms full of clothes. His squires were listening as well, and the singer.
Let them hear,
Jaime thought.
Let the world hear. It makes no matter.
He forced himself to smile, “You’ve seen our numbers, Edmure. You’ve seen the ladders, the towers, the trebuchets, the rams. If I speak the command, my coz will bridge your moat and break your gate. Hundreds will die, most of them your own. Your former bannermen will make up the first wave of attackers, so you’ll start your day by killing the fathers and brothers of men who died for you at the Twins. The second wave will be Freys, I have no lack of those. My westermen will follow when your archers are short of arrows and your knights so weary they can hardly lift their blades. When the castle falls, all those inside will be put to the sword. Your herds will be butchered, your godswood will be felled, your keeps and towers will burn. I’ll pull your walls down, and divert the Tumblestone over the ruins. By the time I’m done no man will ever know that a castle once stood here.” Jaime got to his feet. “Your wife may whelp before that. You’ll want your child, I expect. I’ll send him to you when he’s born. With a trebuchet.”
    Silence followed his speech. Edmure sat in his bath. Pia clutched the clothing to her breasts. The singer tightened a string on his harp. Little Lew hollowed out a loaf of stale bread to make a trencher, pretending that he had not heard.
With a trebuchet,
Jaime thought. If his aunt had been there, would she still say Tyrion was Tywin’s son?
    Edmure Tully finally found his voice. “I could climb out of this tub and kill you where you stand, Kingslayer.”
    â€œYou could try.” Jaime waited. When Edmure made no move to rise, he said, “I’ll leave you to enjoy your food. Singer, play for our guest whilst he eats. You know the song, I trust.”
    â€œThe one about the rain? Aye, my lord. I know it.”
    Edmure seemed to see the man for the