A Game of Thrones 4-Book Bundle

bit. “Still . . .”
    Alleras stepped up next to Sam. “Aemon would have gone to her if he had the strength. He wanted us to send a maester to her, to counsel her and protect her and fetch her safely home.”
    â€œDid he?” Archmaester Marwyn shrugged. “Perhaps it’s good that he died before he got to Oldtown. Elsewise the grey sheep might have had to kill him, and that would have made the poor old dears wring their wrinkled hands.”
    â€œKill him?” Sam said, shocked. “Why?”
    â€œIf I tell you, they may need to kill you too.” Marywn smiled a ghastly smile, the juice of the sourleaf running red between his teeth. “Who do you think killed all the dragons the last time around? Gallant dragonslayers armed with swords?” He spat. “The world the Citadel is building has no place in it for sorcery or prophecy or glass candles, much less for dragons. Ask yourself why Aemon Targaryen was allowed to waste his life upon the Wall, when by rights he should have been raised to archmaester. His
blood
was why. He could not be trusted. No more than I can.”
    â€œWhat will you do?” asked Alleras, the Sphinx.
    â€œGet myself to Slaver’s Bay, in Aemon’s place. The swan ship that delivered Slayer should serve my needs well enough. The grey sheep will send their man on a galley, I don’t doubt. With fair winds I should reach her first.” Marwyn glanced at Sam again, and frowned. “You . . . you should stay and forge your chain. If I were you, I would do it quickly. A time will come when you’ll be needed on the Wall.” He turned to the pasty-faced novice. “Find Slayer a dry cell. He’ll sleep here, and help you tend the ravens.”
    â€œB-b-but,” Sam sputtered, “the other archmaesters . . . the Seneschal . . . what should I tell them?”
    â€œTell them how wise and good they are. Tell them that Aemon commanded you to put yourself into their hands. Tell them that you have always dreamed that one day you might be allowed to wear the chain and serve the greater good, that service is the highest honor, and obedience the highest virtue. But say nothing of prophecies or dragons, unless you fancy poison in your porridge.” Marwyn snatched a stained leather cloak off a peg near the door and tied it tight. “Sphinx, look after this one.”
    â€œI will,” Alleras answered, but the archmaester was already gone. They heard his boots stomping down the steps.
    â€œWhere has he gone?” asked Sam, bewildered.
    â€œTo the docks. The Mage is not a man who believes in wasting time.” Alleras smiled. “I have a confession. Ours was no chance encounter, Sam. The Mage sent me to snatch you up before you spoke to Theobald. He knew that you were coming.”
    â€œHow?”
    Alleras nodded at the glass candle.
    Sam stared at the strange pale flame for a moment, then blinked and looked away. Outside the window it was growing dark.
    â€œThere’s an empty sleeping cell under mine in the west tower, with steps that lead right up to Walgrave’s chambers,” said the pasty-faced youth. “If you don’t mind the ravens
quork
ing, there’s a good view of the Honeywine. Will that serve?”
    â€œI suppose.” He had to sleep somewhere.
    â€œI will bring you some woolen coverlets. Stone walls turn cold at night, even here.”
    â€œMy thanks.” There was something about the pale, soft youth that he misliked, but he did not want to seem discourteous, so he added, “My name’s not Slayer, truly. I’m Sam. Samwell Tarly.”
    â€œI’m Pate,” the other said, “like the pig boy.”

MEANWHILE, BACK ON THE WALL . . .
    H ey, wait a minute!” some of you may be saying about now. “Wait a minute, wait a minute! Where’s Dany and the dragons? Where’s Tyrion? We hardly saw Jon Snow. That can’t be all of it. . . .”
    Well, no. There’s more to come. Another book as big as this one.
    I did not forget to write about the other characters. Far from it. I wrote lots about them. Pages and pages and pages. Chapters and more chapters. I was still writing when it dawned on me that the book had become too big to publish in a single volume . . . and I wasn’t close to finished yet. To tell all of the story that I wanted to tell, I was going to have to cut the book in two.
    The simplest way to do that would have