Emmelyne and Sandor thrashed beneath the sacks on their heads. During their travels they'd somehow been captured by a group of men. This hadn't been the first time people had tried to capture them, but this was the first time someone had succeeded. She knew that two of the men had managed to get R'hllor, tying a rope around his neck and leading him along. Perhaps she could call for him, let him attack their captors. There was a burst of cheers as they were led, and Emmelyne became aware that they were at an inn, judging by the smells of food. She fought and struggled, but whoever was holding her was much stronger than she. "Now that is an uncommonly large person," she heard a man saying. "How does one manage to subdue such an uncommonly large person? In fact, how does one manage to subdue a person fighting like that other one?"
"One waits for them both to drink until they pass out," another man replied.
"Poor men. You two have my sympathy," the first man chuckled.
There was a pause, and Emmelyne felt the sack being lifted. She glared at the men surrounding her as a man lifted Sandor's sack as well. The man chuckled. "Aha, not men at all. A girl and a Hound!" he laughed.
The men filling the inn howled likes dogs, while others eyed Emmelyne hungrily. She moved closer to Sandor. "So good to see you again, Clegane," the man said.
He was older, with long, thinning blond hair and piercing blue eyes. Wrinkles creased his forehead, and his beard was long and untamed. Sandor furrowed his eyebrows. "Thoros? The fuck you doing here?" he questioned.
Thoros smiled. "Drinking and talking too much. Same as ever. Who's the girl?"
"No one," Sandor stated.
Thoros looked at Emmelyne expectantly. "What's your name, wild one?"
She bit her lip. "Emmelyne," she admitted.
"A pretty prize, lads. The Hound and the missing Stark girl," Thoros smirked, taking a drink from his cup of wine.
As he did so, three figures walked toward the door. Emmelyne's eyes widened, and she immediately realized that Arya was leading the two others. Sandor noticed her as well. "Girl," he stated.
Arya slowly began to turn. Sandor looked back to Thoros. "What in seven hells are you doing with the Stark bitch?" he demanded.
Everyone turned to look at Arya. Emmelyne's eyes went wide. "Em?" Arya questioned softly.
After a night at the inn and some well deserved conversation, it almost seemed like Arya's new friends, Gendry and Hot Pie, had begun to get along with Thoros and his group. Emmelyne, Arya and Sandor, however, hadn't quite warmed up to the men. Of course, Emmelyne was happy to see Arya. R'hllor was excited as well, licking the young girl all over.
Gendry, a blacksmith's apprentice, had been fixing a breastplate. Gendry was handsome, with dark hair and blue eyes. Hot Pie, another friend of Arya's, was large and round. He had curly dark hair and dark eyes, which was paired well with his tanned skin. "If I had a proper forge, I could make it good as new," Gendry was telling Thoros.
"Doesn't have to look pretty," Thoros shrugged. "It just has to keep the arrows out of my heart."
"Why are you helping him? He takes us prisoner and now he's our friend?" Arya demanded.
"You're not our prisoner, little lady," Thoros replied.
"What am I?"
"Our guest. No one's put any chains on you."
"So I can walk away, then?"
"These woods aren't safe for Ned Stark's daughters. You're lucky we found you both," Thoros said, looking at Emmelyne.
Emmelyne rolled her eyes at him. Anguy, a young man with a bow, was loading Sandor and her into a prisoner cart. Sandor was not happy with this, but that might have simply been because he was the only one bound in ropes. "You think you're good with that bow, you little twat?" he demanded.
Anguy chuckled. "Better than anyone you've ever met."
"A coward's weapon. I like to fight up close. I like to see a man's face when I put the steel in him."
"Why? So you can kiss him?"
Emmelyne chuckled slightly, patting Sandor's arm. "Don't let him get to you," she murmured.
Anguy had a kind face, with messy brown hair and dark eyes. He wasn't young, but he wasn't old either. Emmelyne would've assumed him to be just older than twenty. Arya suddenly stepped up, looking at Sandor accusingly. "Do you remember the last time you were here?" she demanded.
Sandor glanced back. "Looks like every other shit inn on the road," he shrugged.
Emmelyne remembered. Sandor had killed Mycah on Joffrey's orders. She offered a sad look to Arya, but the young girl seemed preoccupied. "Now, apologies, but you are one ugly fucker and I'd rather not see you no more," Anguy stated, and once more he put a sack over Sandor's head.
Anguy looked at Emmelyne. "If you cooperate, wild one, I won't put one on you just yet," he said.
"I'll cooperate," she said stiffly.
Anguy smiled. "Good."
The men, with some difficulty, hoisted Sandor into the cart. As he climbed, his head slammed the top of the cart. Anguy held back a laugh. "Watch you head," he warned.
Emmelyne climbed in next, R'hllor jumping in after her. Anguy and another man climbed into the cart, Anguy thumping the wall. "Off we go!" he said.
"Walk up!" another man added.
The cart began rolling, and Emmelyne sighed softly, inching closer to Sandor's side. "At least they haven't killed us," she offered.
"Not yet," Sandor replied gruffly.
They rode along in silence. Emmelyne had grown tired, resting her head on Sandor's shoulder as the cart bounced along the road. After a little while of riding, Anguy had covered her head with a sack. She assumed it was so she wouldn't see where they were going. "Halt!" someone shouted.
Emmelyne straightened. More men moved along, two of them taking Emmelyne by the arms. They led the group along, until finally they all stopped. The sacks were removed from their heads, and Emmelyne blinked, trying to adjust her eyes to the dim torchlight that filled the cave they had arrived in. The men led R'hllor, tying him to a branch just outside the cave entrance. "What is this place?" Gendry asked.
"Somewhere neither wolves nor lions come prowling," Thoros answered.
Sandor's sack was taken off last. He backed away from the fire nervously, his eyes wide. Anguy chuckled at this. Sandor looked around, trying to keep his composure. "You look like a bunch of swineherds," he stated.
"Some of us were swineherds," Anguy shrugged. "And some of us tanners and masons. That was before."
"You're still swineherds, and tanners and masons. You think carrying a crooked spear makes you a soldier?"
"No," a voice stated. "Fighting in a war makes you a soldier."
A man stepped forward. His hair was dark, cropped short. One of his eyes was covered by a patch of leather, but the other shined dark brown. He was tall and muscular. Somehow, Emmelyne almost recognized him. "Beric Dondarrion?" Sandor questioned. "You've seen better days.
"And I won't see them again," Beric shrugged.
Sandor shook his head. "Stark deserters. Baratheon deserters. You lot aren't fighting in a war. You're running from it."
"Last I heard, you were King Joffrey's guard dog. But here you are 1,000 miles from home with a Stark girl. Which of us is running?"
"Untie these ropes and we'll find out. What are you doing leading a mob of peasants?"
"Ned Stark ordered me to execute your brother, in King Robert's name."
"Ned Stark is dead. King Robert is dead. My brother's alive. You're fighting for ghosts," Sandor concluded, spitting at the ground.
"That's what we are," Beric smiled, "ghosts waiting for you in the dark. You can't see us, but we see you. No matter whose cloak you wear- -Lannister, Stark, Baratheon- - you prey on the weak, the Brotherhood without Banners will hunt you down."
"You found god? Is that it?"
"Aye. I've been reborn in the light of the one true god. As have we all. As would any man who's seen the things we've seen."
"If you mean to murder me, then bloody well get on with it."
"You'll die soon enough, dog," Thoros stated. "But it won't be murder, only justice."
"And a kinder fate than you deserve. Lions you call yourselves. At the Mummer's Ford, girls of seven years were raped and babes still on the breast were cut in two while their mothers watched," Anguy stated.
"I wasn't at the Mummer's Ford. Dump your dead children at someone other door," Sandor snapped.
"House Clegane was built upon dead children," Thoros argued. "I saw them lay Prince Aegon and Princess Rhaenys before the Iron Throne."
"Do you take me for my brother? Is being born Clegane a crime?" Sandor demanded.
"Murder is a crime," Anguy stated.
"I never touched the Targaryen babes. I never saw them, never smelled them, never heard them bawling. You want to cut my throat, get on with it! But don't call me murderer, and pretend that you're not."
"You murdered Mycah," Arya's voice suddenly called. "The butcher's boy. My friend. He was 12 years old. He was unarmed. And you rode him down."
"Arya, please, stop," Emmelyne said.
But Arya continued. As the young girl spoke, Beric started to walk toward her. "You slung him over your horse like he was some deer," she concluded.
"Aye, he was a bleeder," Sandor stated.
Beric looked back at him. "You don't deny killing this boy?"
"I was Joffrey's sworn shield. The boy attacked the prince," Sandor replied.
"That's a lie! I hit Joffrey. Mycah just ran away," Arya snapped.
"Then I should have killed you. Not my place to question princes," Sandor said.
Emmelyne stared at her sister. "Arya, that was two years ago," she reminded.
"I don't care. He killed my friend," Arya said stiffly.
Beric turned away from Arya, looking at Sandor. "You stand accused of murder. But no one here knows the truth of the charge, so it is not for us to judge you. Only the Lord of Light may do that now," Beric stated.
Emmelyne went stiff, her eyes widening. These men, all of these men, worshipped her god. "I sentence you to trial by combat," Beric finally concluded.
"So, who will it be? Should we find out if your fire god really loves you, priest?" Sandor questioned Thoros.
He looked to Anguy. "Or you, archer? What are you worth with a sword in your hand."
He looked at Arya. "Or is this little girl the bravest one here?" At this he almost laughed.
"Aye," Beric said. "She might be. But it's me you'll fight."