A Game of Thrones 4-Book Bundle

in your darkness,
Ser Cortnay.”
    â€œMay the Others bugger your Lord of Light,” Penrose spat back, “and wipe his
arse with that rag you bear.”
    Lord Alester Florent cleared his throat. “Ser Cortnay, mind your tongue. His
Grace means the boy no harm. The child is his own blood, and mine as well. My
niece Delena was the mother, as all men know. If you will not trust to the
king, trust to me. You know me for a man of honor—”
    â€œI know you for a man of ambition,” Ser Cortnay broke in. “A man who changes
kings and gods the way I change my boots. As

do these other turncloaks I see before me.”
    An angry clamor went up from the king’s men.
He is not far wrong,
Davos thought. Only a short time before, the Fossoways, Guyard Morrigen, and
the Lords Caron, Varner, Errol, and Estermont had all belonged to Renly. They
had sat in his pavilion, helped him make his battle plans, plotted how Stannis
might be brought low. And Lord Florent had been with them—he might be
Queen Selyse’s own uncle, but that had not kept the Lord of Brightwater from
bending his knee to Renly when Renly’s star was rising.
    Bryce Caron walked his horse forward a few paces, his long rainbow-striped
cloak twisting in the wind off the bay. “No man here is a turncloak, ser. My
fealty belongs to Storm’s End, and King Stannis is its rightful
lord
. . . and
our true king. He is the last of House
Baratheon, Robert’s heir and Renly’s.”
    â€œIf that is so, why is the Knight of Flowers not among you? And where is
Mathis Rowan? Randyll Tarly? Lady Oakheart? Why are they not here in your
company, they who loved Renly best?
Where is Brienne of Tarth, I ask
you?
”
    â€œThat one?” Ser Guyard Morrigen laughed harshly. “She ran. As well she
might. Hers was the hand that slew the king.”
    â€œA lie,” Ser Cortnay said. “I knew Brienne when she was no more than a girl
playing at her father’s feet in Evenfall Hall, and I knew her still better when
the Evenstar sent her here to Storm’s End. She loved Renly Baratheon from the
first moment she laid eyes on him, a blind man could see it.”
    â€œTo be sure,” declared Lord Florent airily, “and she would

scarcely be the first maid maddened to murder by a man who spurned her. Though
for my own part, I believe it was Lady Stark who slew the king. She had
journeyed all the way from Riverrun to plead for an alliance, and Renly had
refused her. No doubt she saw him as a danger to her son, and so removed
him.”
    â€œIt was Brienne,” insisted Lord Caron. “Ser Emmon Cuy swore as much before
he died. You have my oath on that, Ser Cortnay.”
    Contempt thickened Ser Cortnay’s voice. “And what is that worth? You wear your
cloak of many colors, I see. The one Renly gave you when you swore your
oath
to protect him. If he is dead, how is it you are not?” He
turned his scorn on Guyard Morrigen. “I might ask the same of you, ser. Guyard
the Green, yes? Of the Rainbow Guard? Sworn to give his own life for his
king’s? If I had such a cloak, I would be ashamed to wear it.”
    Morrigen bristled. “Be glad this is a parley, Penrose, or I would have your
tongue for those words.”
    â€œAnd cast it in the same fire where you left your manhood?”
    â€œEnough!”
Stannis said. “The Lord of Light willed that my brother
die for his treason. Who did the deed matters not.”
    â€œNot to
you,
perhaps,” said Ser Cortnay. “I have heard your
proposal, Lord Stannis. Now here is mine.” He pulled off his glove and flung
it full in the king’s face. “Single combat. Sword, lance, or any weapon you
care to name. Or if you fear to hazard your magic sword and royal skin against
an old man, name you a champion, and I shall do the same.” He gave Guyard
Morrigen and Bryce Caron a scathing look. “Either of these pups would do

nicely, I should think.”
    Ser Guyard Morrigen grew dark with fury. “I will take up the gage, if it
please the king.”
    â€œAs would I.” Bryce Caron looked to Stannis.
    The king ground his teeth. “No.”
    Ser Cortnay did not seem surprised. “Is it the justice of your cause you
doubt, my lord, or the strength of your arm? Are you afraid I’ll piss on your
burning sword and put it out?”
    â€œDo you take