He would sleep inthe saddle, pressed against Brienne, his nose full of the stink of his rottinghand, and then at night he would lie awake on the hard ground, caught in awaking nightmare. When Ser Boros spoke up in defense of the king, the Imp threatenedto have him killed. The maester shaved her hair off, but he swears it will soongrow back. His hands folded over the shaft of a stone warhammerthat lay upon his chest.
Now there are three. Water, he gasped. inthe last ten years he had grown soft and fleshy, he knew, but when he'd beenyounger Merrett had been almost as ro Why, but to spill the wine that might have proved him guilty? He knew the wine was poisoned, said Ser Meryn.
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