A Game of Thrones 4-Book Bundle

toys for the children. With all he kept hidden in his sleeves, Catelyn was surprised that Maester Luwin could lift his arms at all.
    The maester waited until the door had closed behind him before he spoke. “My lord,” he said to Ned, “pardon for disturbing your rest. I have been left a message.”
    Ned looked irritated. “Been
left?
By whom? Has there been a rider? I was not told.”
    â€œThere was no rider, my lord. Only a carved wooden box, left on a table in my observatory while I napped. My servants saw no one, but it must have been brought by someone in the king’s party. We have had no other visitors from the south.”
    â€œA wooden box, you say?” Catelyn said.
    â€œInside was a fine new lens for the observatory, from Myr by the look of it. The lenscrafters of Myr are without equal.”
    Ned frowned. He had little patience for this sort of thing, Catelyn knew. “A lens,” he said. “What has that to do with me?”
    â€œI asked the same question,” Maester Luwin said. “Clearly there was more to this than the seeming.”
    Under the heavy weight of her furs, Catelyn shivered. “A lens is an instrument to help us see.”
    â€œIndeed it is.” He fingered the collar of his order; a heavy chain worn tight around the neck beneath his robe, each link forged from a different metal.
    Catelyn could feel dread stirring inside her once again. “What is it that they would have us see more clearly?”
    â€œThe very thing I asked myself.” Maester Luwin drew a tightly rolled paper out of his sleeve. “I found the true message concealed within a false bottom when I dismantled the box the lens had come in, but it is not for my eyes.”
    Ned held out his hand. “Let me have it, then.”
    Luwin did not stir. “Pardons, my lord. The message is not for you either. It is marked for the eyes of the Lady Catelyn, and her alone. May I approach?”
    Catelyn nodded, not trusting to speak. The maester placed the paper on the table beside the bed. It was sealed with a small blob of blue wax. Luwin bowed and began to retreat.
    â€œStay,” Ned commanded him. His voice was grave. He looked at Catelyn. “What is it? My lady, you’re shaking.”
    â€œI’m afraid,” she admitted. She reached out and took the letter in trembling hands. The furs dropped away fromher nakedness, forgotten. In the blue wax was the moon-and-falcon seal of House Arryn. “It’s from Lysa.” Catelyn looked at her husband. “It will not make us glad,” she told him. “There is grief in this message, Ned. I can feel it.”
    Ned frowned, his face darkening. “Open it.”
    Catelyn broke the seal.
    Her eyes moved over the words. At first they made no sense to her. Then she remembered. “Lysa took no chances. When we were girls together, we had a private language, she and I.”
    â€œCan you read it?”
    â€œYes,” Catelyn admitted.
    â€œThen tell us.”
    â€œPerhaps I should withdraw,” Maester Luwin said.
    â€œNo,” Catelyn said. “We will need your counsel.” She threw back the furs and climbed from the bed. The night air was as cold as the grave on her bare skin as she padded across the room.
    Maester Luwin averted his eyes. Even Ned looked shocked. “What are you doing?” he asked.
    â€œLighting a fire,” Catelyn told him. She found a dressing gown and shrugged into it, then knelt over the cold hearth.
    â€œMaester Luwin—” Ned began.
    â€œMaester Luwin has delivered all my children,” Catelyn said. “This is no time for false modesty.” She slid the paper in among the kindling and placed the heavier logs on top of it.
    Ned crossed the room, took her by the arm, and pulled her to her feet. He held her there, his face inches from her. “My lady, tell me! What was this message?”
    Catelyn stiffened in his grasp. “A warning,” she said softly. “If we have the wits to hear.”
    His eyes searched her face. “Go on.”
    â€œLysa says Jon Arryn was murdered.”
    His fingers tightened on her arm. “By whom?”
    â€œThe Lannisters,” she told him. “The queen.”
    Ned released his hold on her arm. There were deep red marks on her skin. “Gods,” he whispered. His voice was hoarse. “Your sister is sick with grief. She cannot know what she is