A Game of Thrones 4-Book Bundle

Ned?”
    â€œRobert Baratheon is dead,” his father told him. “Your nephew reigns in King’s Landing.”
    That
did
take Tyrion aback. “My sister, you mean.” He took another gulp of ale. The realm would be a much different place with Cersei ruling in place of her husband.
    â€œIf you have a mind to make yourself of use, I will give you a command,” his father said. “Marq Piper and Karyl Vance are loose in our rear, raiding our lands across the Red Fork.”
    Tyrion made a
tsking
sound. “The gall of them, fighting back. Ordinarily I’d be glad to punish such rudeness, Father, but the truth is, I have pressing business elsewhere.”
    â€œDo you?” Lord Tywin did not seem awed. “We alsohave a pair of Ned Stark’s afterthoughts making a nuisance of themselves by harassing my foraging parties. Beric Dondarrion, some young lordling with delusions of valor. He has that fat jape of a priest with him, the one who likes to set his sword on fire. Do you think you might be able to deal with them as you scamper off? Without making too much a botch of it?”
    Tyrion wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and smiled. “Father, it warms my heart to think that you might entrust me with … what, twenty men? Fifty? Are you sure you can spare so many? Well, no matter. If I should come across Thoros and Lord Beric, I shall spank them both.” He climbed down from his chair and waddled to the sideboard, where a wheel of veined white cheese sat surrounded by fruit. “First, though, I have some promises of my own to keep,” he said as he sliced off a wedge. “I shall require three thousand helms and as many hauberks, plus swords, pikes, steel spearheads, maces, battle-axes, gauntlets, gorgets, greaves, breastplates, wagons to carry all this—”
    The door behind him opened with a crash, so violently that Tyrion almost dropped his cheese. Ser Kevan leapt up swearing as the captain of the guard went flying across the room to smash against the hearth. As he tumbled down into the cold ashes, his lion helm askew, Shagga snapped the man’s sword in two over a knee thick as a tree trunk, threw down the pieces, and lumbered into the common room. He was preceded by his stench, riper than the cheese and overpowering in the closed space. “Little redcape,” he snarled, “when next you bare steel on Shagga son of Dolf, I will chop off your manhood and roast it in the fire.”
    â€œWhat, no goats?” Tyrion said, taking a bite of cheese.
    The other clansmen followed Shagga into the common room, Bronn with them. The sellsword gave Tyrion a rueful shrug.
    â€œWho might you be?” Lord Tywin asked, cool as snow.
    â€œThey followed me home, Father,” Tyrion explained. “May I keep them? They don’t eat much.”
    No one was smiling. “By what right do you savages intrude on our councils?” demanded Ser Kevan.
    â€œSavages, lowlander?” Conn might have been handsomeif you washed him. “We are free men, and free men by rights sit on all war councils.”
    â€œWhich one is the lion lord?” Chella asked.
    â€œThey are both old men,” announced Timett son of Timett, who had yet to see his twentieth year.
    Ser Kevan’s hand went to his sword hilt, but his brother placed two fingers on his wrist and held him fast. Lord Tywin seemed unperturbed. “Tyrion, have you forgotten your courtesies? Kindly acquaint us with our … honored guests.”
    Tyrion licked his fingers. “With pleasure,” he said. “The fair maid is Chella daughter of Cheyk of the Black Ears.”
    â€œI’m no maid,” Chella protested. “My sons have taken fifty ears among them.”
    â€œMay they take fifty more.” Tyrion waddled away from her. “This is Conn son of Coratt. Shagga son of Dolf is the one who looks like Casterly Rock with hair. They are Stone Crows. Here is Ulf son of Umar of the Moon Brothers, and here Timett son of Timett, a red hand of the Burned Men. And this is Bronn, a sellsword of no particular allegiance. He has already changed sides twice in the short time I’ve known him, you and he ought to get on famously, Father.” To Bronn and the clansmen he said, “May I present my lord father, Tywin son of Tytos of House Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock, Warden of the West, Shield of Lannisport, and once and future Hand of the