A Game of Thrones 4-Book Bundle

host.
“Azor Ahai, beloved of R’hllor! The Warrior of Light, the Son of Fire!
Come forth, your sword awaits you! Come forth and take it into your
hand!”
    Stannis Baratheon strode forward like a soldier marching into battle. His
squires stepped up to attend him. Davos watched as his son Devan pulled a long
padded glove over the king’s right hand. The boy wore a cream-colored doublet
with a fiery heart sewn on the breast. Bryen Farring was similarly garbed as he
tied a stiff leather cape around His Grace’s neck. Behind, Davos heard a faint
clank and clatter of bells. “Under the sea, smoke rises in bubbles, and flames
burn green and blue and black,” Patchface sang somewhere. “I know, I know,
oh, oh, oh.”
    The king plunged into the fire with his teeth clenched,

holding the leather cloak before him to keep off the flames. He went straight
to the Mother, grasped the sword with his gloved hand, and wrenched it free of
the burning wood with a single hard jerk. Then he was retreating, the sword
held high, jade-green flames swirling around cherry-red steel. Guards rushed to
beat out the cinders that clung to the king’s clothing.
    â€œA sword of fire!”
shouted Queen Selyse. Ser Axell Florent and the
other queen’s men took up the cry.
“A sword of fire! It burns! It burns!
A sword of fire!”
    Melisandre lifted her hands above her head.
“Behold! A sign was promised,
and now a sign is seen! Behold Lightbringer! Azor Ahai has come again! All hail
the Warrior of Light! All hail the Son of Fire!”
    A ragged wave of shouts gave answer, just as Stannis’s glove began to smolder.
Cursing, the king thrust the point of the sword into the damp earth and beat
out the flames against his leg.
    â€œLord, cast your light upon us!” Melisandre called out.
    â€œFor the night is dark and full of terrors,” Selyse and her queen’s men
replied.
Should I speak the words as well?
Davos wondered.
Do I
owe Stannis that much? Is this fiery god truly his own?
His shortened
fingers twitched.
    Stannis peeled off the glove and let it fall to the ground. The gods in the
pyre were scarcely recognizable anymore. The head fell off the Smith with a
puff of ash and embers. Melisandre sang in the tongue of Asshai, her voice
rising and falling like the tides of the sea. Stannis untied his singed leather
cape and

listened in silence. Thrust in the ground, Lightbringer still glowed ruddy hot,
but the flames that clung to the sword were dwindling and dying.
    By the time the song was done, only charwood remained of the gods, and the
king’s patience had run its course. He took the queen by the elbow and escorted
her back into Dragonstone, leaving Lightbringer where it stood. The red woman
remained a moment to watch as Devan knelt with Byren Farring and rolled up the
burnt and blackened sword in the king’s leather cloak.
The Red Sword of
Heroes looks a proper mess,
thought Davos.
    A few of the lords lingered to speak in quiet voices upwind of the fire. They
fell silent when they saw Davos looking at them.
Should Stannis fall, they
will pull me down in an instant.
Neither was he counted one of the queen’s
men, that group of ambitious knights and minor lordlings who had given
themselves to this Lord of Light and so won the favor and patronage of
Lady
—no, Queen, remember?—
Selyse.
    The fire had started to dwindle by the time Melisandre and the squires departed
with the precious sword. Davos and his sons joined the crowd making its way
down to the shore and the waiting ships. “Devan acquitted himself well,” he
said as they went.
    â€œHe fetched the glove without dropping it, yes,” said Dale.
    Allard nodded. “That badge on Devan’s doublet, the fiery heart, what was that?
The Baratheon sigil is a crowned stag.”
    â€œA lord can choose more than one badge,” Davos said.
    Dale smiled. “A black ship
and
an onion, Father?”
    Allard kicked at a stone. “The Others take our
onion
 . . . and
that flaming heart. It was an ill
thing to burn the Seven.”
    â€œWhen did you grow so devout?” Davos said. “What does a smuggler’s son know
of the doings of gods?”
    â€œI’m a knight’s son, Father. If you won’t remember, why should
they?”
    â€œA knight’s son, but not a knight,” said Davos. “Nor will you ever