A Game of Thrones 4-Book Bundle

took a swallow. “As to that, well . . . the
king commanded it, m’lord. The king himself.”
    â€œThe king is thirteen,” Tyrion reminded him.
    â€œStill. He
is
the king.” Slynt’s jowls quivered when he frowned.
“The Lord of the Seven Kingdoms.”
    â€œWell, one or two of them, at least,” Tyrion said with a sour smile.
“Might I have a look at your spear?”
    â€œMy spear?” Lord Janos blinked in confusion.
    Tyrion pointed. “The clasp that fastens your cape.”
    Hesitantly, Lord Janos drew out the ornament and handed it
to Tyrion.
    â€œWe have goldsmiths in Lannisport who do better work,” he opined. “The red
enamel blood is a shade much, if you don’t mind my saying. Tell me, my lord,
did you drive the spear into the man’s back yourself, or did you only give the
command?”
    â€œI gave the command, and I’d give it again. Lord Stark was a traitor.” The
bald spot in the middle of Slynt’s head was beet-red, and his cloth-of-gold
cape had slithered off his shoulders onto the floor. “The man tried to buy
me.”
    â€œLittle dreaming that you had already been sold.”
    Slynt slammed down his wine cup. “Are you drunk? If you think I will sit here
and have my honor questioned . . .”
    â€œWhat honor is that? I do admit, you made a better bargain than Ser Jacelyn. A
lordship and a castle for a spear thrust in the back, and you didn’t even need
to thrust the spear.” He tossed the golden ornament back to Janos Slynt. It
bounced off his chest and clattered to the floor as the man rose.
    â€œI mislike the tone of your voice, my lo
—Imp.
I am the Lord
of Harrenhal and a member of the king’s council, who are you to chastise me
like this?”
    Tyrion cocked his head sideways. “I think you know quite

well who I am. How many sons do you have?”
    â€œWhat are my sons to you, dwarf?”
    â€œDwarf?”
His anger flashed. “You should have stopped at Imp. I am
Tyrion of House Lannister, and someday, if you have the sense the gods gave a
sea slug, you will drop to your knees in thanks that it was me you had to deal
with, and not my lord father. Now,
how many sons do you
have?
”
    Tyrion could see the sudden fear in Janos Slynt’s eyes. “Th-three, m’lord. And
a daughter. Please, m’lord—”
    â€œYou need not beg.” He slid off his chair. “You have my word, no harm will
come to them. The younger boys will be fostered out as squires. If they serve
well and loyally, they may be knights in time. Let it never be said that House
Lannister does not reward those who serve it. Your eldest son will inherit the
title Lord Slynt, and this appalling sigil of yours.” He kicked at the little
golden spear and sent it skittering across the floor. “Lands will be found for
him, and he can build a seat for himself. It will not be Harrenhal, but it will
be sufficient. It will be up to him to make a marriage for the
girl.”
    Janos Slynt’s face had gone from red to white.
“Wh-what . . . what do you . . . ?” His jowls
were quivering like mounds of suet.
    â€œWhat do I mean to do with
you
?” Tyrion let the oaf tremble for a
moment before he answered. “The carrack
Summer’s Dream
sails on the
morning tide. Her master tells me she will call at Gulltown, the Three Sisters,
the isle of Skagos, and Eastwatch-by-the-Sea. When you see Lord Commander
Mormont, give him my fond

regards, and tell him that I have not forgotten the needs of the Night’s Watch.
I wish you long life and good service, my lord.”
    Once Janos Slynt realized he was not to be summarily executed, color returned
to his face. He thrust his jaw out. “We will see about this, Imp.
Dwarf.
Perhaps it will be you on that ship, what do you think of
that? Perhaps it will be you on the Wall.” He gave a bark of anxious laughter.
“You and your threats, well, we will see. I am the king’s friend, you know. We
shall hear what Joffrey has to say about this. And Littlefinger and the queen,
oh, yes. Janos Slynt has a good many friends. We will see who goes sailing, I
promise you. Indeed we will.”
    Slynt spun on his heel like the watchman he’d once been, and strode the length
of the Small Hall, boots ringing on the stone. He clattered up the steps, threw