A Game of Thrones 4-Book Bundle

more kindly of me.”
    That made Littlefinger sit up. “True killer? I confess, you make me curious.
Who do you propose?”
    It was Tyrion’s turn to smile. “Gifts I give my friends, freely. Lysa Arryn
would need to understand that.”
    â€œIs it her friendship you require, or her swords?”
    â€œBoth.”
    Littlefinger stroked the neat spike of his beard. “Lysa has woes of her
own. Clansmen raiding out of the Mountains of the Moon, in greater numbers than
ever before . . . and better armed.”
    â€œDistressing,” said Tyrion Lannister, who had armed them. “I could help her
with that. A word from me . . .”
    â€œAnd what would this word cost her?”
    â€œI want Lady Lysa and her son to acclaim Joffrey as king, to swear fealty, and
to—”
    â€œâ€”make war on the Starks and Tullys?” Littlefinger shook his head.
“There’s the roach in your pudding, Lannister. Lysa will never send her
knights against Riverrun.”
    â€œNor would I ask it. We have no lack of enemies. I’ll use her power to oppose
Lord Renly, or Lord Stannis, should he stir from Dragonstone. In return, I will
give her justice for Jon Arryn and peace in the Vale. I will even name that
appalling child of hers Warden of the East, as his father was before him.”
I want to see him fly,
a boy’s voice whispered faintly in memory.
“And to seal the bargain, I will give her my niece.”
    He had the pleasure of seeing a look of genuine surprise in Petyr Baelish’s
grey-green eyes. “Myrcella?”
    â€œWhen she comes of age, she can wed little Lord Robert. Until such time,
she’ll be Lady Lysa’s ward at the Eyrie.”
    â€œAnd what does Her Grace the queen think of this ploy?” When Tyrion shrugged,
Littlefinger burst into laughter. “I thought not. You’re a dangerous little
man, Lannister. Yes, I could sing this song to Lysa.” Again the sly smile, the
mischief

in his glance. “If I cared to.”
    Tyrion nodded, waiting, knowing Littlefinger could never abide a long
silence.
    â€œSo,” Lord Petyr continued after a pause, utterly unabashed, “what’s in your
pot for me?”
    â€œHarrenhal.”
    It was interesting to watch his face. Lord Petyr’s father had been the smallest
of small lords, his grandfather a landless hedge knight; by birth, he held no
more than a few stony acres on the windswept shore of the Fingers. Harrenhal
was one of the richest plums in the Seven Kingdoms, its lands broad and rich
and fertile, its great castle as formidable as any in the
realm . . . and so large as to dwarf Riverrun, where Petyr
Baelish had been fostered by House Tully, only to be brusquely expelled when he
dared raise his sights to Lord Hoster’s daughter.
    Littlefinger took a moment to adjust the drape of his cape, but Tyrion had seen
the flash of hunger in those sly cat’s eyes.
I have him,
he knew.
“Harrenhal is cursed,” Lord Petyr said after a moment, trying to sound
bored.
    â€œThen raze it to the ground and build anew to suit yourself. You’ll have no
lack of coin. I mean to make you liege lord of the Trident. These river lords
have proven they cannot be trusted. Let them do you fealty for their
lands.”
    â€œEven the Tullys?”
    â€œIf there are any Tullys left when we are done.”
    Littlefinger looked like a boy who had just taken a furtive

bite from a honeycomb. He was
trying
to watch for bees, but the honey
was so sweet. “Harrenhal and all its lands and incomes,” he mused. “With a
stroke, you’d make me one of the greatest lords in the realm. Not that I’m
ungrateful, my lord, but—why?”
    â€œYou served my sister well in the matter of the succession.”
    â€œAs did Janos Slynt. On whom this same castle of Harrenhal was quite recently
bestowed—only to be snatched away when he was no longer of
use.”
    Tyrion laughed. “You have me, my lord. What can I say? I need you to deliver
the Lady Lysa. I did not need Janos Slynt.” He gave a crooked shrug. “I’d
sooner have you seated in Harrenhal than Renly seated on the Iron Throne. What
could be plainer?”
    â€œWhat indeed. You realize that I may need to bed Lysa Arryn again to get her
consent to this marriage?”
    â€œI have little doubt you’ll be equal to the