A Game of Thrones 4-Book Bundle

whispered.
    â€œIt’s me they want,” Arya whispered back. His ear smelled of soap. “You be
quiet.”
    â€œThe queen wants him, old man, not that it’s your concern,”

the officer said, drawing a ribbon from his belt. “Here, Her Grace’s seal and
warrant.”
    Behind the hedge, the Bull shook his head doubtfully. “Why would the queen
want
you,
Arry?”
    She punched his shoulder. “Be
quiet
!”
    Yoren fingered the warrant ribbon with its blob of golden wax. “Pretty.” He
spit. “Thing is, the boy’s in the Night’s Watch now. What he done back in the
city don’t mean piss-all.”
    â€œThe queen’s not interested in your views, old man, and neither am I,” the
officer said. “I’ll have the boy.”
    Arya thought about running, but she knew she wouldn’t get far on her donkey
when the gold cloaks had horses. And she was so tired of running. She’d run
when Ser Meryn came for her, and again when they killed her father. If she was
a real water dancer, she would go out there with Needle and kill all of them,
and never run from anyone ever again.
    â€œYou’ll have no one,” Yoren said stubbornly. “There’s laws on such
things.”
    The gold cloak drew a shortsword. “Here’s your law.”
    Yoren looked at the blade. “That’s no law, just a sword. Happens I got one
too.”
    The officer smiled. “Old fool. I have five men with me.”
    Yoren spat. “Happens I got thirty.”
    The gold cloak laughed. “This lot?” said a big lout with a broken nose.
“Who’s first?” he shouted, showing his steel.
    Tarber plucked a pitchfork out of a bale of hay. “I am.”
    â€œNo, I am,” called Cutjack, the plump stonemason, pulling his hammer
off the leather apron he always wore.
    â€œMe.” Kurz came up off the ground with his skinning knife in hand.
    â€œMe and him.” Koss strung his longbow.
    â€œAll of us,” said Reysen, snatching up the tall hardwood walking staff he
carried.
    Dobber stepped naked out of the bathhouse with his clothes in a bundle, saw
what was happening, and dropped everything but his dagger. “Is it a fight?”
he asked.
    â€œI guess,” said Hot Pie, scrambling on all fours for a big rock to throw.
Arya could not believe what she was seeing. She
hated
Hot Pie! Why
would he risk himself for her?
    The one with the broken nose still thought it was funny. “You girls put away
them rocks and sticks before you get spanked. None of you knows what end of a
sword to hold.”
    â€œI do!”
Arya wouldn’t let them die for her like Syrio. She
wouldn’t! Shoving through the hedge with Needle in hand, she slid into a water
dancer’s stance.
    Broken Nose guffawed. The officer looked her up and down. “Put the blade away,
little girl, no one wants to hurt you.”
    â€œI’m
not
a girl!” she yelled, furious. What was wrong with them?
They rode all this way for her and here she was and they were just smiling at
her. “I’m the one you want.”
    â€œ
He’s
the one we want.” The officer jabbed his shortsword toward
the Bull, who’d come forward to stand beside her, Praed’s

cheap steel in his hand.
    But it was a mistake to take his eyes off Yoren, even for an instant. Quick as
that, the black brother’s sword was pressed to the apple of the officer’s
throat. “Neither’s the one you get, less you want me to see if your apple’s
ripe yet. I got me ten, fifteen more brothers in that inn, if you still need
convincing. I was you, I’d let loose of that gutcutter, spread my cheeks over
that fat little horse, and gallop on back to the city.” He spat, and poked
harder with the point of his sword. “Now.”
    The officer’s fingers uncurled. His sword fell in the dust.
    â€œWe’ll just keep that,” Yoren said. “Good steel’s always needed on the
Wall.”
    â€œAs you say. For now. Men.” The gold cloaks sheathed and mounted up. “You’d
best scamper up to that Wall of yours in a hurry, old man. The next time I
catch you, I believe I’ll have your head to go with the bastard
boy’s.”
    â€œBetter men than you have tried.” Yoren slapped the rump of the officer’s
horse with the flat of his sword and sent him reeling