A Game of Thrones 4-Book Bundle

march.”
    â€œAny chance we might convince the Dornishmen to descend on the Marches?”
asked Tyrion.
    â€œNone.”
    â€œA pity. Well, the threat may serve to keep the Marcher lords close to their
castles, at least. What news of my father?”
    â€œIf Lord Tywin has won across the Red Fork, no word has reached me yet. If he
does not hasten, he may be trapped between his foes. The Oakheart leaf and the
Rowan tree have been seen north of the Mander.”
    â€œNo word from Littlefinger?”
    â€œPerhaps he never reached Bitterbridge. Or perhaps he’s died there. Lord Tarly
has seized Renly’s stores and put a great many to the sword; Florents, chiefly.
Lord Caswell has shut himself up in his castle.”
    Tyrion threw back his head and laughed.
    Varys reined up, nonplussed. “My lord?”
    â€œDon’t you see the jest, Lord Varys?” Tyrion waved a hand at the shuttered
windows, at all the sleeping city. “Storm’s End is fallen and Stannis is
coming with fire and steel and the gods alone know what dark powers, and the
good folk don’t have Jaime to protect them, nor Robert nor Renly nor Rhaegar
nor their precious Knight of Flowers. Only me, the one they hate.” He laughed
again. “The dwarf, the evil counselor, the twisted little monkey demon. I’m
all that stands between them and chaos.”

CATELYN
    T ell Father I have gone to make him proud.” Her brother swung up into
his saddle, every inch the lord in his bright mail and flowing mud-and-water
cloak. A silver trout ornamented the crest of his greathelm, twin to the one
painted on his shield.
    â€œHe was always proud of you, Edmure. And he loves you fiercely. Believe
that.”
    â€œI mean to give him better reason than mere birth.” He wheeled his
warhorse about and raised a hand. Trumpets sounded, a drum began to boom, the
drawbridge descended in fits and starts, and Ser Edmure Tully led his men out
from Riverrun with lances raised and banners streaming.
    I have a greater host than yours, brother,
Catelyn thought as she
watched them go.
A host of doubts and fears.
    Beside her, Brienne’s misery was almost palpable. Catelyn had ordered garments
sewn to her measure, handsome gowns to suit her birth and sex, yet still she
preferred to dress in oddments of mail and boiled leather, a swordbelt cinched
around her waist. She would have been happier riding to war with Edmure, no
doubt, but even walls as strong as Riverrun’s required swords to hold them. Her
brother had taken every able-bodied man for the fords, leaving Ser Desmond
Grell to command a garrison made up of the wounded, the old, and the sick,
along with a few squires and some

untrained peasant boys still shy of manhood. This, to defend a castle crammed
full of women and children.
    When the last of Edmure’s foot had shuffled under the portcullis, Brienne
asked, “What shall we do now, my lady?”
    â€œOur duty.” Catelyn’s face was drawn as she started across the yard.
I
have always done my duty,
she thought. Perhaps that was why her lord
father had always cherished her best of all his children. Her two older
brothers had both died in infancy, so she had been son as well as daughter to
Lord Hoster until Edmure was born. Then her mother had died and her father had
told her that she must be the lady of Riverrun now, and she had done that too.
And when Lord Hoster promised her to Brandon Stark, she had thanked him for
making her such a splendid match.
    I gave Brandon my favor to wear, and never comforted Petyr once after he
was wounded, nor bid him farewell when Father sent him off. And when Brandon
was murdered and Father told me I must wed his brother, I did so gladly, though
I never saw Ned’s face until our wedding day. I gave my maidenhood to this
solemn stranger and sent him off to his war and his king and the woman who bore
him his bastard, because I always did my duty.
    Her steps took her to the sept, a seven-sided sandstone temple set amidst her
mother’s gardens and filled with rainbow light. It was crowded when they
entered; Catelyn was not alone in her need for prayer. She knelt before the
painted marble image of the Warrior and lit a scented candle for Edmure and
another for Robb off beyond the hills.
Keep them safe and help them to

victory,
she prayed,
and bring peace to the souls of the slain and
comfort to those they leave