A Game of Thrones 4-Book Bundle

find no joy in
it, and whilst he sits cold and hungry and profitless, we will take King’s
Landing.”
    â€œAnd have men say I feared to face Stannis?”
    â€œOnly fools will say that,” Lord Mathis argued.
    Renly looked to the others. “What say you all?”
    â€œI say that Stannis is a danger to you,” Lord Randyll Tarly

declared. “Leave him unblooded and he will only grow stronger, while your own
power is diminished by battle. The Lannisters will not be beaten in a day. By
the time you are done with them, Lord Stannis may be as strong as
you . . . or stronger.”
    Others chorused their agreement. The king looked pleased. “We shall fight,
then.”
    I have failed Robb as I failed Ned,
Catelyn thought. “My lord,” she
announced. “If you are set on battle, my purpose here is done. I ask your
leave to return to Riverrun.”
    â€œYou do not have it.” Renly seated himself on a camp chair.
    She stiffened. “I had hoped to help you make a peace, my lord. I will not help
you make a war.”
    Renly gave a shrug. “I daresay we’ll prevail without your five-and-twenty, my
lady. I do not mean for you to take part in the battle, only to watch
it.”
    â€œI was at the Whispering Wood, my lord. I have seen enough butchery. I came
here an envoy—”
    â€œAnd an envoy you shall leave,” Renly said, “but wiser than you came. You
shall see what befalls rebels with your own eyes, so your son can hear it from
your own lips. We’ll keep you safe, never fear.” He turned away to make his
dispositions. “Lord Mathis, you shall lead the center of my main battle.
Bryce, you’ll have the left. The right is mine. Lord Estermont, you shall
command the reserve.”
    â€œI shall not fail you, Your Grace,” Lord Estermont replied.
    Lord Mathis Rowan spoke up. “Who shall have the van?”
    â€œYour Grace,” said Ser Jon Fossoway, “I beg the honor.”
    â€œBeg all you like,” said Ser Guyard the Green, “by rights it should be one
of the seven who strikes the first blow.”
    â€œIt takes more than a pretty cloak to charge a shield wall,” Randyll Tarly
announced. “I was leading Mace Tyrell’s van when you were still sucking on
your mother’s teat, Guyard.”
    A clamor filled the pavilion, as other men loudly set forth their claims.
The knights of summer,
Catelyn thought. Renly raised a hand.
“Enough, my lords. If I had a dozen vans, all of you should have one, but the
greatest glory by rights belongs to the greatest knight. Ser Loras shall strike
the first blow.”
    â€œWith a glad heart, Your Grace.” The Knight of Flowers knelt before the king.
“Grant me your blessing, and a knight to ride beside me with your banner. Let
the stag and rose go to battle side by side.”
    Renly glanced about him. “Brienne.”
    â€œYour Grace?” She was still armored in her blue steel, though she had taken
off her helm. The crowded tent was hot, and sweat plastered limp yellow hair to
her broad, homely face. “My place is at your side. I am your sworn
shield . . .”
    â€œOne of seven,” the king reminded her. “Never fear, four of your fellows
will be with me in the fight.”
    Brienne dropped to her knees. “If I must part from Your Grace, grant me the
honor of arming you for battle.”
    Catelyn heard someone snigger behind her.
She loves him, poor thing,
she thought sadly.
She’d play his squire just to

touch him, and never care how great a fool they think her.
    â€œGranted,” Renly said. “Now leave me, all of you. Even kings must rest
before a battle.”
    â€œMy lord,” Catelyn said, “there was a small sept in the last village we
passed. If you will not permit me to depart for Riverrun, grant me leave to go
there and pray.”
    â€œAs you will. Ser Robar, give Lady Stark safe escort to this
sept . . . but see that she returns to us by dawn.”
    â€œYou might do well to pray yourself,” Catelyn added.
    â€œFor victory?”
    â€œFor wisdom.”
    Renly laughed. “Loras, stay and help me pray. It’s been so long I’ve quite
forgotten how. As to the rest of you, I want every man in place by first light,
armed, armored, and horsed. We shall give Stannis a dawn he will not soon
forget.”
    Dusk was