A Game of Thrones 4-Book Bundle

child . . .”
    â€œOh, that part was true enough.” Asha leapt to her feet.
“Rolfe,
here,”
she shouted down at one of the finger dancers, holding up a hand.
He saw her, spun, and suddenly an axe came flying from his hand, the blade
gleaming as it tumbled end over end through the torchlight. Theon had time for
a choked gasp before Asha snatched the axe from the air and slammed it down
into the table, splitting his trencher in two and splattering his mantle with
drippings. “There’s my lord husband.” His sister reached down inside her gown
and drew a dirk from between her breasts. “And here’s my sweet suckling
babe.”
    He could not imagine how he looked at that moment, but suddenly Theon Greyjoy
realized that the Great Hall was ringing with laughter, all of it at him. Even
his father was smiling, gods be damned, and his uncle Victarion chuckled aloud.
The best

response he could summon was a queasy grin.
We shall see who is laughing
when all this is done, bitch.
    Asha wrenched the axe out of the table and flung it back down at the dancers,
to whistles and loud cheers. “You’d do well to heed what I told you about
choosing a crew.” A thrall offered them a platter, and she stabbed a salted
fish and ate it off the end of her dirk. “If you had troubled to learn the
first thing of Sigrin, I could never have fooled you. Ten years a wolf, and you
land here and think to prince about the islands, but you know nothing and no
one. Why should men fight and die for you?”
    â€œI am their lawful prince,” Theon said stiffly.
    â€œBy the laws of the green lands, you might be. But we make our own laws here,
or have you forgotten?”
    Scowling, Theon turned to contemplate the leaking trencher before him. He would
have stew in his lap before long. He shouted for a thrall to clean it up.
Half my life I have waited to come home, and for what? Mockery and
disregard?
This was not the Pyke he remembered. Or
did
he
remember? He had been so young when they took him away to hold
hostage.
    The feast was a meager enough thing, a succession of fish stews, black bread,
and spiceless goat. The tastiest thing Theon found to eat was an onion pie. Ale
and wine continued to flow well after the last of the courses had been cleared
away.
    Lord Balon Greyjoy rose from the Seastone Chair. “Have done with your drink
and come to my solar,” he commanded his companions on the dais. “We have
plans to lay.” He left them with no other

word, flanked by two of his guards. His brothers followed in short order. Theon
rose to go after them.
    â€œMy little brother is in a rush to be off.” Asha raised her drinking horn and
beckoned for more ale.
    â€œOur lord father is waiting.”
    â€œAnd has, for many a year. It will do him no harm to wait a little
longer . . . but if you fear his wrath, scurry after him by all
means. You ought to have no trouble catching our uncles.” She smiled. “One is
drunk on seawater, after all, and the other is a great grey bullock so dim
he’ll probably get lost.”
    Theon sat back down, annoyed. “I run after no man.”
    â€œNo man, but every woman?”
    â€œIt was not me who grabbed your cock.”
    â€œI don’t have one, remember? You grabbed every other bit of me quick
enough.”
    He could feel the flush creeping up his cheeks. “I’m a man with a man’s
hungers. What sort of unnatural creature are you?”
    â€œOnly a shy maid.” Asha’s hand darted out under the table to give his cock a
squeeze. Theon nearly jumped from his chair. “What, don’t you want me to steer
you into port, brother?”
    â€œMarriage is not for you,” Theon decided. “When I rule, I believe I will
pack you off to the silent sisters.” He lurched to his feet and strode off
unsteadily to find his father.
    Rain was falling by the time he reached the swaying bridge out to the Sea
Tower. His stomach was crashing and churning like the waves below, and wine had
unsteadied his feet. Theon gritted

his teeth and gripped the rope tightly as he made his way across, pretending
that it was Asha’s neck he was clutching.
    The solar was as damp and drafty as ever. Buried under his sealskin robes, his
father sat before the brazier with his brothers on either side of him.
Victarion was talking of tides and winds when