What was he doing that they had to kill him? Asking questions, Varys said, slipping out the door. The blade . what madness made Ser Jaime decide to split his men into three separate camps? Surely he knew how vulnerable that would leave them? Better than you, you chinless craven, Tyrion thought. He was a swaggering bantam rooster of a youth, too young and too hot-blooded for Ned's taste, though a fast friend of Catelyn's brother, Edmure Tully.
A gust of childish laughter drifted through the open doors behind him, and her uncle glanced darkly over his shoulder. Distant watchers peered down from towers of unmortared stone as the party descended through the foothills, and once Tyrion saw a raven take wing. He led the mare for half an hour, until she was dry. We have a septon at the gate who tends to our wounded.
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