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downcast eyes, huddled beneath a hooded cloak. Underneath its heavy folds, her clothes were finely made, but torn.
She ripped them herself, as a mark of mourning,
Jaime realized.
That could not have pleased her mother.
He found himself wondering if Cersei would tear her gown if she should ever hear that he was dead.
    He did not go straight back to the castle but crossed the Tumblestone once more to call on Edwyn Frey and discuss the transfer of his great-grandfather’s prisoners. The Frey host had begun to break up within hours of Riverrun’s surrender, as Lord Walder’s bannermen and freeriders pulled up stakes to make for home. The Freys who still remained were striking camp, but he found Edwyn with his bastard uncle in the latter’s pavilion.
    The two of them were huddled over a map, arguing heatedly, but they broke off when Jaime entered. “Lord Commander,” Rivers said with cold courtesy, but Edwyn blurted out, “My father’s blood is on your hands, ser.”
    That took Jaime a bit aback. “How so?”
    â€œYou were the one who sent him home, were you not?”
    Someone had to.
“Has some ill befallen Ser Ryman?”
    â€œHanged with all his party,” said Walder Rivers. “The outlaws caught them two leagues south of Fairmarket.”
    â€œDondarrion?”
    â€œHim, or Thoros, or this woman Stoneheart.”
    Jaime frowned. Ryman Frey had been a fool, a craven, and a sot, and no one was like to miss him much, least of all his fellow Freys. If Edwyn’s dry eyes were any clue, even his own sons would not mourn him long.
Still . . . these outlaws are growing bold, if they dare hang Lord Walder’s heir not a day’s ride from the Twins.
“How many men did Ser Ryman have with him?” he asked.
    â€œThree knights and a dozen men-at-arms,” said Rivers. “It is almost as if they knew that he would be returning to the Twins, and with a small escort.”
    Edwyn’s mouth twisted. “My brother had a hand in this, I’ll wager. He allowed the outlaws to escape after they murdered Merrett and Petyr, and this is why. With our father dead, there’s only me left between Black Walder and the Twins.”
    â€œYou have no proof of this,” said Walder Rivers.
    â€œI do not need proof. I know my brother.”
    â€œYour brother is at Seagard,” Rivers insisted. “How could he have known that Ser Ryman was returning to the Twins?”
    â€œSomeone told him,” said Edwyn in a bitter tone. “He has his spies in our camp, you can be sure.”
    And you have yours at Seagard.
Jaime knew that the enmity between Edwyn and Black Walder ran deep, but cared not a fig which of them succeeded their great-grandfather as Lord of the Crossing.
    â€œIf you will pardon me for intruding on your grief,” he said, in a dry tone, “we have other matters to consider. When you return to the Twins, please inform Lord Walder that King Tommen requires all the captives you took at the Red Wedding.”
    Ser Walder frowned. “These prisoners are valuable, ser.”
    â€œHis Grace would not ask for them if they were worthless.”
    Frey and Rivers exchanged a look. Edwyn said, “My lord grandfather will expect recompense for these prisoners.”
    And he’ll have it, as soon as I grow a new hand,
thought Jaime. “We all have expectations,” he said mildly. “Tell me, is Ser Raynald Westerling amongst these captives?”
    â€œThe knight of seashells?” Edwyn sneered. “You’ll find that one feeding the fish at the bottom of the Green Fork.”
    â€œHe was in the yard when our men came to put the direwolf down,” said Walder Rivers. “Whalen demanded his sword and he gave it over meek enough, but when the crossbowmen began feathering the wolf he seized Whalen’s axe and cut the monster loose of the net they’d thrown over him. Whalen says he took a quarrel in his shoulder and another in the gut, but still managed to reach the wallwalk and throw himself into the river.”
    â€œHe left a trail of blood on the steps,” said Edwyn.
    â€œDid you find his corpse afterward?” asked Jaime.
    â€œWe found a thousand corpses afterward. Once they’ve spent a few days in the river they all look much the same.”
    â€œI’ve heard the same is true of hanged men,” said Jaime, before he took his leave.
    By the next morning little