A Game of Thrones 4-Book Bundle

tongue.”
    His own chambers in the Guest Keep had never seemed so chilly, though the
thralls had left a brazier burning. Theon kicked his boots off, let his cloak
fall to the floor, and poured himself a cup of wine, remembering a gawky girl
with knob knees and pimples.
She unlaced my breeches,
he thought,
outraged,
and she said . . . oh, gods, and
I
said . . .
He groaned. He could not possibly have
made a more appalling fool of himself.
    No,
he thought then.
She was the one who made me a fool.
The evil bitch must have enjoyed every moment of it. And the way she kept
reaching for my cock . . .
    He took his cup and went to the window seat, where he sat drinking and watching
the sea while the sun darkened over Pyke.
I have no place here,
he
thought,
and Asha is the reason, may the Others take her!
The water
below turned from green to grey to black. By then he could hear distant music,
and he knew it was time to change for the feast.
    Theon chose plain boots and plainer clothes, somber shades of black and grey to
fit his mood. No ornament; he had nothing bought with iron.
I might have
taken something off that wildling I killed to save Bran Stark, but he had
nothing worth the taking. That’s my cursed luck, I kill the
poor.
    The long smoky hall was crowded with his father’s lords and captains when Theon
entered, near four hundred of them. Dagmer Cleftjaw had not yet returned from
Old Wyk with the Stonehouses and Drumms, but all the rest were
there—Harlaws from Harlaw, Blacktydes from Blacktyde, Sparrs, Merlyns,
and Goodbrothers from Great Wyk, Saltcliffes and Sunderlies from Saltcliffe,
and Botleys and Wynches from the other side of Pyke. The thralls were pouring
ale, and there was music, fiddles and skins and drums. Three burly men were
doing the finger dance, spinning short-hafted axes at each other. The trick was
to catch the axe or leap over it without missing a step. It was called the
finger dance because it usually ended when one of the dancers lost
one . . . or two, or five.
    Neither the dancers nor the drinkers took much note of Theon Greyjoy as
he strode to the dais. Lord Balon occupied the Seastone Chair, carved in the
shape of a great kraken from an immense block of oily black stone. Legend said
that the First Men had found it standing on the shore of Old Wyk when they came
to the Iron Islands. To the left of the high seat were Theon’s uncles. Asha was
ensconced at his right hand, in the place of honor. “You come late, Theon,”
Lord Balon observed.
    â€œI ask your pardon.” Theon took the empty seat beside Asha. Leaning close, he
hissed in her ear, “You’re in my place.”
    She turned to him with innocent eyes. “Brother, surely you are mistaken. Your
place is at Winterfell.” Her smile cut. “And where are all your pretty
clothes? I heard you fancied silk and velvet against your skin.” She was in
soft green wool herself, simply cut, the fabric clinging to the slender lines
of her body.
    â€œYour hauberk must have rusted away, sister,” he threw back. “A great pity.
I’d like to see you all in iron.”
    Asha only laughed. “You may yet, little brother . . . if you
think your
Sea Bitch
can keep up with my
Black Wind.
” One
of their father’s thralls came near, bearing a flagon of wine. “Are you
drinking ale or wine tonight, Theon?” She leaned over close. “Or is it still
a taste of my mother’s milk you thirst for?”
    He flushed. “Wine,” he told the thrall. Asha turned away and banged on the
table, shouting for ale.
    Theon hacked a loaf of bread in half, hollowed out a trencher, and summoned a
cook to fill it with fish stew. The

smell of the thick cream made him a little ill, but he forced himself to eat
some. He’d drunk enough wine to float him through two meals.
If I retch,
it will be on her.
“Does Father know that you’ve married his
shipwright?” he asked his sister.
    â€œNo more than Sigrin does.” She gave a shrug. “
Esgred
was the
first ship he built. He named her after his mother. I would be hard-pressed to
say which he loves best.”
    â€œEvery word you spoke to me was a lie.”
    â€œNot
every
word. Remember when I told you I like to be on top?”
Asha grinned.
    That only made him angrier. “All that about being a woman wed, and new with