A Game of Thrones 4-Book Bundle

Devan will tell you. He tried to wake me. Dawn was nigh and my lords

were waiting, fretting. I should have been ahorse, armored. I knew Renly would
attack at break of day. Devan says I thrashed and cried out, but what does it
matter? It was a dream. I was in my tent when Renly died, and when I woke my
hands were clean.”
    Ser Davos Seaworth could feel his phantom fingertips start to itch.
Something is wrong here,
the onetime smuggler thought. Yet he nodded
and said, “I see.”
    â€œRenly offered me a peach. At our parley. Mocked me, defied me, threatened me,
and offered me a peach. I thought he was drawing a blade and went for mine own.
Was that his purpose, to make me show fear? Or was it one of his pointless
jests? When he spoke of how sweet the peach was, did his words have some hidden
meaning?” The king gave a shake of his head, like a dog shaking a rabbit to
snap its neck. “Only Renly could vex me so with a piece of fruit. He brought
his doom on himself with his treason, but I did love him, Davos. I know that
now. I swear, I will go to my grave thinking of my brother’s peach.”
    By then they were in amongst the camp, riding past the ordered rows of tents,
the blowing banners, and the stacks of shields and spears. The stink of horse
dung was heavy in the air, mingled with the woodsmoke and the smell of cooking
meat. Stannis reined up long enough to bark a brusque dismissal to Lord Florent
and the others, commanding them to attend him in his pavilion one hour hence
for a council of war. They bowed their heads and dispersed, while Davos and
Melisandre rode to the king’s pavilion.
    The tent had to be large, since it was there his lords

bannermen came to council. Yet there was nothing grand about it. It was a
soldier’s tent of heavy canvas, dyed the dark yellow that sometimes passed for
gold. Only the royal banner that streamed atop the center pole marked it as a
king’s. That, and the guards without; queen’s men leaning on tall spears, with
the badge of the fiery heart sewn over their own.
    Grooms came up to help them dismount. One of the guards relieved Melisandre of
her cumbersome standard, driving the staff deep into the soft ground. Devan
stood to one side of the door, waiting to lift the flap for the king. An older
squire waited beside him. Stannis took off his crown and handed it to Devan.
“Cold water, cups for two. Davos, attend me. My lady, I shall send for you
when I require you.”
    â€œAs the king commands.” Melisandre bowed.
    After the brightness of the morning, the interior of the pavilion seemed cool
and dim. Stannis seated himself on a plain wooden camp stool and waved Davos to
another. “One day I may make you a lord, smuggler. If only to irk Celtigar and
Florent. You will not thank me, though. It will mean you must suffer through
these councils, and feign interest in the braying of mules.”
    â€œWhy do you have them, if they serve no purpose?”
    â€œThe mules love the sound of their own braying, why else? And I need them to
haul my cart. Oh, to be sure, once in a great while some useful notion is put
forth. But not today, I think—ah, here’s your son with our
water.”
    Devan set the tray on the table and filled two clay cups.

The king sprinkled a pinch of salt in his cup before he drank; Davos took his
water straight, wishing it were wine. “You were speaking of your
council?”
    â€œLet me tell you how it will go. Lord Velaryon will urge me to storm the
castle walls at first light, grapnels and scaling ladders against arrows and
boiling oil. The young mules will think this a splendid notion. Estermont will
favor settling down to starve them out, as Tyrell and Redwyne once tried with
me. That might take a year, but old mules are patient. And Lord Caron and the
others who like to kick will want to take up Ser Cortnay’s gauntlet and hazard
all upon a single combat. Each one imagining
he
will be my champion
and win undying fame.” The king finished his water. “What would
you
have me do, smuggler?”
    Davos considered a moment before he answered. “Strike for King’s Landing at
once.”
    The king snorted. “And leave Storm’s End untaken?”
    â€œSer Cortnay does not have the power to harm you. The Lannisters do. A siege
would take too long, single combat is too chancy, and an assault would cost
thousands of