A Game of Thrones 4-Book Bundle

boy’s howl, not a wolf’s. Yet Summer gave answer, his
deep voice drowning out Bran’s thin one, and Shaggydog made it a chorus. Bran
haroooed
again. They howled together, last of their pack.
    The noise brought a guard to his door, Hayhead with the wen on his nose. He
peered in, saw Bran howling out the window, and said, “What’s this, my
prince?”
    It made Bran feel queer when they called him prince, though he
was
Robb’s heir, and Robb was King in the North now. He turned his head to howl at
the guard.
“Oooooooo. Oo-oo-oooooooooooo.”
    Hayhead screwed up his face. “Now you stop that there.”
    â€œOoo-ooo-oooooo. Ooo-ooo-ooooooooooooooooo.”
    The guardsman retreated. When he came back, Maester Luwin was with him, all in
grey, his chain tight about his neck. “Bran, those beasts make sufficient
noise without your help.” He crossed the room and put his hand on the boy’s
brow. “The hour grows late, you ought to be fast asleep.”
    â€œI’m talking to the wolves.” Bran brushed the hand away.
    â€œShall I have Hayhead carry you to your bed?”
    â€œI can get to bed myself.” Mikken had hammered a row of iron bars into the
wall, so Bran could pull himself about the room with his arms. It was slow and
hard and it made his shoulders ache, but he hated being carried. “Anyway, I
don’t have to sleep if I don’t want to.”
    â€œAll men must sleep, Bran. Even princes.”
    â€œWhen I sleep I turn into a wolf.” Bran turned his face

away and looked back out into the night. “Do wolves dream?”
    â€œAll creatures dream, I think, yet not as men do.”
    â€œDo dead men dream?” Bran asked, thinking of his father. In the dark crypts
below Winterfell, a stonemason was chiseling out his father’s likeness in
granite.
    â€œSome say yes, some no,” the maester answered. “The dead themselves are
silent on the matter.”
    â€œDo trees dream?”
    â€œTrees? No . . .”
    â€œThey do,” Bran said with sudden certainty. “They dream tree dreams. I dream
of a tree sometimes. A weirwood, like the one in the godswood. It calls to me.
The wolf dreams are better. I smell things, and sometimes I can taste the
blood.”
    Maester Luwin tugged at his chain where it chafed his neck. “If you would only
spend more time with the other children—”
    â€œI hate the other children,” Bran said, meaning the Walders. “I commanded
you to send them away.”
    Luwin grew stern. “The Freys are your lady mother’s wards, sent here to be
fostered at her express command. It is not for you to expel them, nor is it
kind. If we turned them out, where would they go?”
    â€œHome. It’s their fault you won’t let me have
Summer.”
    â€œThe Frey boy did not ask to be attacked,” the maester said, “no more than I
did.”
    â€œThat was Shaggydog.” Rickon’s big black wolf was so wild he even frightened
Bran at times. “Summer never bit anyone.”
    â€œSummer ripped out a man’s throat in this very chamber, or have you
forgotten? The truth is, those sweet pups you and your brothers found in the
snow have grown into dangerous beasts. The Frey boys are wise to be wary of
them.”
    â€œWe should put the Walders in the godswood. They could play lord of the
crossing all they want, and Summer could sleep with me again. If I’m the
prince, why won’t you heed me? I wanted to ride Dancer, but Alebelly wouldn’t
let me past the gate.”
    â€œAnd rightly so. The wolfswood is full of danger; your last ride should have
taught you that. Would you want some outlaw to take you captive and sell you to
the Lannisters?”
    â€œSummer would save me,” Bran insisted stubbornly. “Princes should be allowed
to sail the sea and hunt boar in the wolfswood and joust with
lances.”
    â€œBran, child, why do you torment yourself so? One day you may do some of these
things, but now you are only a boy of eight.”
    â€œI’d sooner be a wolf. Then I could live in the wood and sleep when I wanted,
and I could find Arya and Sansa. I’d
smell
where they were and go
save them, and when Robb went to battle I’d fight beside him like Grey Wind.
I’d tear out the Kingslayer’s throat with my teeth,
rip,
and then the
war would be