A Game of Thrones 4-Book Bundle

Was he supposed to swear something back to them?
Their oath was not one he had been taught. “May your winters be short and your
summers bountiful,” he said. That was usually a good thing to say. “Rise. I’m
Brandon Stark.”
    The girl, Meera, got to her feet and helped her brother up. The boy stared at
Bran all the while. “We bring you gifts of fish and frog and fowl,” he
said.
    â€œI thank you.” Bran wondered if he would have to eat a frog to be polite. “I
offer you the meat and mead of Winterfell.” He tried to recall all he had been
taught of the crannogmen, who dwelt amongst the bogs of the Neck and seldom left
their wetlands. They were a poor folk, fishers and frog-hunters who lived in
houses of thatch and woven reeds on floating islands hidden in the deeps of the
swamp. It was said that they were a cowardly people who fought with poisoned
weapons and preferred to hide from foes rather than face them in open battle.
And yet Howland Reed had been one of Father’s staunchest companions during the
war for King Robert’s crown, before Bran was born.
    The boy, Jojen, looked about the hall curiously as he took his seat. “Where
are the direwolves?”
    â€œIn the godswood,” Rickon answered. “Shaggy was bad.”
    â€œMy brother would like to see them,” the girl said.
    Little Walder spoke up loudly. “He’d best watch they don’t see him, or they’ll
take a bite out of him.”
    â€œThey won’t bite if I’m there.” Bran was pleased that they wanted to see the
wolves. “Summer won’t anyway, and he’ll keep

Shaggydog away.” He was curious about these mudmen. He could not recall ever
seeing one before. His father had sent letters to the Lord of Greywater over
the years, but none of the crannogmen had ever called at Winterfell. He would
have liked to talk to them more, but the Great Hall was so noisy that it was
hard to hear anyone who wasn’t right beside you.
    Ser Rodrik was right beside Bran. “Do they truly eat frogs?” he asked the old
knight.
    â€œAye,” Ser Rodrik said. “Frogs and fish and lizard-lions, and all manner of
birds.”
    Maybe they don’t have sheep and cattle,
Bran thought. He commanded
the serving men to bring them mutton chops and a slice off the aurochs and fill
their trenchers with beef-and-barley stew. They seemed to like that well
enough. The girl caught him staring at her and smiled. Bran blushed and looked
away.
    Much later, after all the sweets had been served and washed down with gallons
of summerwine, the food was cleared and the tables shoved back against the
walls to make room for the dancing. The music grew wilder, the drummers joined
in, and Hother Umber brought forth a huge curved warhorn banded in silver. When
the singer reached the part in “The Night That Ended” where the Night’s Watch
rode forth to meet the Others in the Battle for the Dawn, he blew a blast that
set all the dogs to barking.
    Two Glover men began a spinning skirl on bladder and woodharp. Mors Umber was
the first on his feet. He seized a passing serving girl by the arm, knocking
the flagon of wine out

of her hands to shatter on the floor. Amidst the rushes and bones and bits of
bread that littered the stone, he whirled her and spun her and tossed her in
the air. The girl squealed with laughter and turned red as her skirts swirled
and lifted.
    Others soon joined in. Hodor began to dance all by himself, while Lord Wyman
asked little Beth Cassel to partner him. For all his size, he moved gracefully.
When he tired, Cley Cerwyn danced with the child in his stead. Ser Rodrik
approached Lady Hornwood, but she made her excuses and took her leave. Bran
watched long enough to be polite, and then had Hodor summoned. He was hot and
tired, flushed from the wine, and the dancing made him sad. It was something
else he could never do. “I want to go.”
    â€œHodor,” Hodor shouted back, kneeling. Maester Luwin and Hayhead lifted him
into his basket. The folk of Winterfell had seen this sight half a hundred
times, but doubtless it looked queer to the guests, some of whom were more
curious than polite. Bran felt the stares.
    They went out the rear rather than walk the length of the hall, Bran ducking
his head as they passed through the lord’s door. In the dim-lit gallery outside
the Great Hall,