A Game of Thrones 4-Book Bundle

scratched the direwolf between the ears.
“Did your master-at-arms teach you net-fighting?”
    â€œMy father taught me. We have no knights at Greywater. No master-at-arms, and
no maester.”
    â€œWho keeps your ravens?”
    She smiled. “Ravens can’t find Greywater Watch, no more than our enemies
can.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œBecause it moves,” she told him.
    Bran had never heard of a moving castle before. He looked at her uncertainly,
but he couldn’t tell whether she was teasing him or not. “I wish I could see
it. Do you think your lord father would let me come visit when the war is
over?”
    â€œYou would be most welcome, my prince. Then or now.”
    â€œNow?”
Bran had spent his whole life at Winterfell. He yearned to
see far places. “I could ask Ser Rodrik when he returns.” The old knight was
off east, trying to set to rights the trouble there. Roose Bolton’s bastard had
started it by seizing Lady Hornwood as she returned from the harvest feast,
marrying her that very night even though he was young enough to be her son.
Then Lord Manderly had taken her castle. To protect the Hornwood holdings from
the Boltons, he had written, but Ser Rodrik had been almost as angry with him
as with the bastard. “Ser

Rodrik might let me go. Maester Luwin never would.”
    Sitting cross-legged under the weirwood, Jojen Reed regarded him solemnly. “It
would be good if you left Winterfell, Bran.”
    â€œIt would?”
    â€œYes. And sooner rather than later.”
    â€œMy brother has the greensight,” said Meera. “He dreams things that haven’t
happened, but sometimes they do.”
    â€œThere is no
sometimes,
Meera.” A look passed between them; him
sad, her defiant.
    â€œTell me what’s going to happen,” Bran said.
    â€œI will,” said Jojen, “if you’ll tell me about your dreams.”
    The godswood grew quiet. Bran could hear leaves rustling, and Hodor’s distant
splashing from the hot pools. He thought of the golden man and the three-eyed
crow, remembered the crunch of bones between his jaws and the coppery taste of
blood. “I don’t have dreams. Maester Luwin gives me sleeping
draughts.”
    â€œDo they help?”
    â€œSometimes.”
    Meera said, “All of Winterfell knows you wake at night shouting and sweating,
Bran. The women talk of it at the well, and the guards in their
hall.”
    â€œTell us what frightens you so much,” said Jojen.
    â€œI don’t want to. Anyway, it’s only dreams. Maester Luwin says dreams might
mean anything or nothing.”
    â€œMy brother dreams as other boys do, and those dreams might mean anything,”
Meera said, “but the green dreams are different.”
    Jojen’s eyes were the color of moss, and sometimes when he looked at you
he seemed to be seeing something else. Like now. “I dreamed of a winged wolf
bound to earth with grey stone chains,” he said. “It was a green dream, so I
knew it was true. A crow was trying to peck through the chains, but the stone
was too hard and his beak could only chip at them.”
    â€œDid the crow have three eyes?”
    Jojen nodded.
    Summer raised his head from Bran’s lap, and gazed at the mudman with his dark
golden eyes.
    â€œWhen I was little I almost died of greywater fever. That was when the crow
came to me.”
    â€œHe came to me after I fell,” Bran blurted. “I was asleep for a long time.
He said I had to fly or die, and I woke up, only I was broken and I couldn’t
fly after all.”
    â€œYou can if you want to.” Picking up her net, Meera shook out the last
tangles and began arranging it in loose folds.
    â€œ
You
are the winged wolf, Bran,” said Jojen. “I wasn’t sure when
we first came, but now I am. The crow sent us here to break your
chains.”
    â€œIs the crow at Greywater?”
    â€œNo. The crow is in the north.”
    â€œAt the Wall?” Bran had always wanted to see the Wall. His bastard brother
Jon was there now, a man of the Night’s Watch.
    â€œBeyond the Wall.” Meera Reed hung the net from her belt. “When Jojen told
our lord father what he’d dreamed, he sent us to

Winterfell.”
    â€œHow would I break the chains, Jojen?” Bran asked.
    â€œOpen your eye.”
    â€œThey
are
open Can’t