A Game of Thrones 4-Book Bundle

Gendry.
You stupid stupid stupid STUPID!
she thought. If he’d been
here she would have kicked him again.
    The guards were talking loudly, but she was too far away to make out the words,
especially with the crows gabbling and flapping closer to hand. One of the
spearmen snatched the helm off Gendry’s head and asked him a question, but he
must not have liked the answer, because he smashed him across the face with the
butt of his spear and knocked him down. The one who’d captured him gave him a
kick, while the second spearman was trying on the bull’s-head helm. Finally
they pulled him to his feet and marched him off toward the storehouse. When
they opened the heavy wooden doors, a small boy darted out, but one of the
guards grabbed his arm and flung him back inside. Arya heard sobbing from
inside the building, and then a shriek so loud and full of pain that it made
her bite her lip.
    The guards shoved Gendry inside with the boy and barred the doors behind them.
Just then, a breath of wind came sighing off the lake, and the banners stirred
and lifted. The one on the

tall staff bore the golden lion, as she’d feared. On the other, three sleek
black shapes ran across a field as yellow as butter. Dogs, she thought. Arya
had seen those dogs before, but where?
    It didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was that they had Gendry. Even
if he
was
stubborn and
stupid, she had to get him out. She wondered
if they knew that the queen wanted him.
    One of the guards took off his helm and donned Gendry’s instead. It made her
angry to see him wearing it, but she knew there was nothing she could do to
stop him. She thought she heard more screams from inside the windowless
storehouse, muffled by the masonry, but it was hard to be certain.
    She stayed long enough to see the guard changed, and much more besides. Men
came and went. They led their horses down to the stream to drink. A hunting
party returned from the wood, carrying a deer’s carcass slung from a pole. She
watched them clean and gut it and build a cookfire on the far side of the
stream, and the smell of cooking meat mingled queerly with the stench of
corruption. Her empty belly roiled and she thought she might retch. The
prospect of food brought other men out of the houses, near all of them wearing
bits of mail or boiled leather. When the deer was cooked, the choicest portions
were carried to one of the houses.
    She thought that the dark might let her crawl close and free Gendry, but the
guards kindled torches off the cookfire. A squire brought meat and bread to the
two guarding the storehouse, and later two more men joined them and they all
passed a skin of wine

from hand to hand. When it was empty the others left, but the two guards
remained, leaning on their spears.
    Arya’s arms and legs were stiff when she finally wriggled out from under the
briar into the dark of the wood. It was a black night, with a thin sliver of
moon appearing and disappearing as the clouds blew past.
Silent as a
shadow,
she told herself as she moved through the trees. In this darkness
she dared not run, for fear of tripping on some unseen root or losing her way.
On her left Gods Eye lapped calmly against its shores. On her right a wind
sighed through the branches, and leaves rustled and stirred. Far off, she heard
the howling of wolves.
    Lommy and Hot Pie almost shit themselves when she stepped out of the trees
behind them. “Quiet,” she told them, putting an arm around Weasel when the
little girl came running up.
    Hot Pie stared at her with big eyes. “We thought you left us.” He had his
shortsword in hand, the one Yoren had taken off the gold cloak. “I was scared
you was a wolf.”
    â€œWhere’s the Bull?” asked Lommy.
    â€œThey caught him,” Arya whispered. “We have to get him out. Hot Pie, you got
to help. We’ll sneak up and kill the guards, and then I’ll open the
door.”
    Hot Pie and Lommy exchanged a look. “How many?”
    â€œI couldn’t count,” Arya admitted. “Twenty at least, but only two on the
door.”
    Hot Pie looked as if he were going to cry. “We can’t fight
twenty.
”
    â€œYou only need to fight
one.
I’ll do the other and we’ll get
Gendry out and run.”
    â€œWe should yield,” Lommy said. “Just go in and yield.”
    Arya shook her head stubbornly.
    â€œThen