A Game of Thrones 4-Book Bundle

told the man, “or what Ser Gregor did to the Goat will seem a jolly lark compared to what I’ll do to you.”
    More days passed. Lord Emmon assembled all of Riverrun in the yard, Lord Edmure’s people and his own, and spoke to them for close on three hours about what would be expected of them now that he was their lord and master. From time to time he waved his parchment, as stableboys and serving girls and smiths listened in a sullen silence and a light rain fell down upon them all.
    The singer was listening too, the one that Jaime had taken from Ser Ryman Frey. Jaime came upon him standing inside an open door, where it was dry. “His lordship should have been a singer,” the man said. “This speech is longer than a marcher ballad, and I don’t think he’s stopped for breath.”
    Jaime had to laugh. “Lord Emmon does not need to breathe, so long as he can chew. Are you going to make a song of it?”
    â€œA funny one. I’ll call it ‘Talking to the Fish.’”
    â€œJust don’t play it where my aunt can hear.” Jaime had never paid the man much mind before. He was a small fellow, garbed in ragged green breeches and a frayed tunic of a lighter shade of green, with brown leather patches covering the holes. His nose was long and sharp, his smile big and loose. Thin brown hair fell to his collar, snaggled and unwashed.
Fifty if he’s a day,
thought Jaime,
a hedge harp, and hard used by life.
“Weren’t you Ser Ryman’s man when I found you?” he asked.
    â€œOnly for a fortnight.”
    â€œI would have expected you to depart with the Freys.”
    â€œThat one up there’s a Frey,” the singer said, nodding at Lord Emmon, “and this castle seems a nice snug place to pass the winter. Whitesmile Wat went home with Ser Forley, so I thought I’d see if I could win his place. Wat’s got that high sweet voice that the likes o’ me can’t hope to match. But I know twice as many bawdy songs as he does. Begging my lord’s pardon.”
    â€œYou should get on famously with my aunt,” said Jaime. “If you hope to winter here, see that your playing pleases Lady Genna. She’s the one that matters.”
    â€œNot you?”
    â€œMy place is with the king. I shall not stay here long.”
    â€œI’m sorry to hear that, my lord. I know better songs than ‘The Rains of Castamere.’ I could have played you . . . oh, all sorts o’ things.”
    â€œSome other time,” said Jaime. “Do you have a name?”
    â€œTom of Sevenstreams, if it please my lord.” The singer doffed his hat. “Most call me Tom o’ Sevens, though.”
    â€œSing sweetly, Tom o’ Sevens.”
    That night he dreamt that he was back in the Great Sept of Baelor, still standing vigil over his father’s corpse. The sept was still and dark, until a woman emerged from the shadows and walked slowly to the bier. “Sister?” he said.
    But it was not Cersei. She was all in grey, a silent sister. A hood and veil concealed her features, but he could see the candles burning in the green pools of her eyes. “Sister,” he said, “what would you have of me?” His last word echoed up and down the sept,
mememememememememememe.
    â€œI am not your sister, Jaime.” She raised a pale soft hand and pushed her hood back. “Have you forgotten me?”
    Can I forget someone I never knew?
The words caught in his throat. He
did
know her, but it had been so long . . .
    â€œWill you forget your own lord father too? I wonder if you ever knew him, truly.” Her eyes were green, her hair spun gold. He could not tell how old she was.
Fifteen,
he thought,
or fifty.
She climbed the steps to stand above the bier. “He could never abide being laughed at. That was the thing he hated most.”
    â€œWho are you?” He had to hear her say it.
    â€œThe question is, who are you?”
    â€œThis is a dream.”
    â€œIs it?” She smiled sadly. “Count your hands, child.”
    One.
One hand, clasped tight around the sword hilt. Only one. “In my dreams I always have two hands.” He raised his right arm and stared uncomprehending at the ugliness of his stump.
    â€œWe all dream of things we cannot have. Tywin dreamed that his son would be a great knight, that his daughter would be a queen. He dreamed they would be so strong and brave and