A Game of Thrones 4-Book Bundle

“And then m’lord says if he was a Black Ear he’d never sleep, for
dreams of one-eared men.”
    â€œA problem I will never need face,” Tyrion said. “I’m terrified of my
enemies, so I kill them all.”
    Varys giggled. “Will you take some wine with us, my lord?”
    â€œI’ll take some wine.” Tyrion seated himself beside Shae. He understood what
was happening here, if Chella and the girl did not. Varys was delivering a
message. When he said,
I was taken

by a sudden urge to meet your young lady,
what he meant was,
You
tried to hide her, but I knew where she was, and who she was, and here I
am.
He wondered who had betrayed him. The innkeeper, that boy in the stable,
a guard on the gate . . . or one of his own?
    â€œI always like to return to the city through the Gate of the Gods,” Varys
told Shae as he filled the wine cups. “The carvings on the gatehouse are
exquisite, they make me weep each time I see them. The
eyes . . . so expressive, don’t you think? They almost seem to
follow you as you ride beneath the portcullis.”
    â€œI never noticed, m’lord,” Shae replied. “I’ll look again on the morrow, if
it please you.”
    Don’t bother, sweetling,
Tyrion thought, swirling the wine in the
cup.
He cares not a whit about carvings. The eyes he boasts of are his
own. What he means is that
he
was watching, that he knew we were here
the moment we passed through the gates.
    â€œDo be careful, child,” Varys urged. “King’s Landing is not wholly safe
these days. I know these streets well, and yet I almost feared to come today,
alone and unarmed as I was. Lawless men are everywhere in this dark time, oh,
yes. Men with cold steel and colder hearts.”
Where I can come alone and
unarmed, others can come with swords in their fists,
he was
saying.
    Shae only laughed. “If they try and bother me, they’ll be one ear short when
Chella runs them off.”
    Varys hooted as if that was the funniest thing he had ever heard, but there was
no laughter in his eyes when he turned them on Tyrion. “Your young lady has an
amiable way to her. I should

take very good care of her if I were you.”
    â€œI intend to. Any man who tries to harm her—well, I’m too small to be a
Black Ear, and I make no claims to courage.”
See? I speak the same tongue
you do, eunuch. Hurt her, and I’ll have your head.
    â€œI will leave you.” Varys rose. “I know how weary you must be. I only wished
to welcome you, my lord, and tell you how very pleased I am by your arrival. We
have dire need of you on the council. Have you seen the comet?”
    â€œI’m short, not blind,” Tyrion said. Out on the kingsroad, it had seemed to
cover half the sky, outshining the crescent moon.
    â€œIn the streets, they call it the Red Messenger,” Varys said. “They say it
comes as a herald before a king, to warn of fire and blood to follow.” The
eunuch rubbed his powdered hands together. “May I leave you with a bit of a
riddle, Lord Tyrion?” He did not wait for an answer. “In a room sit three
great men, a king, a priest, and a rich man with his gold. Between them stands
a sellsword, a little man of common birth and no great mind. Each of the great
ones bids him slay the other two. ‘Do it,’ says the king, ‘for I am your lawful
ruler.’ ‘Do it,’ says the priest, ‘for I command you in the names of the gods.’
‘Do it,’ says the rich man, ‘and all this gold shall be yours.’ So tell
me—who lives and who dies?” Bowing deeply, the eunuch hurried from the
common room on soft slippered feet.
    When he was gone, Chella gave a snort and Shae wrinkled up her pretty face.
“The rich man lives. Doesn’t he?”
    Tyrion sipped at his wine, thoughtful. “Perhaps. Or not. That would
depend on the sellsword, it seems.” He set down his cup. “Come, let’s go
upstairs.”
    She had to wait for him at the top of the steps, for her legs were slim and
supple while his were short and stunted and full of aches. But she was smiling
when he reached her. “Did you miss me?” she teased as she took his
hand.
    â€œDesperately,” Tyrion admitted. Shae only stood a shade over five feet, yet
still he must look up to her . . . but in her