When Daenerys and her ragged khalasar reached the gates of Kotir, they were met by a company of soldiers. Weasels, ferrets, and stoats, armed with spears.

Dany smiled politely and addressed the weasel who led the platoon, "Hello there! Beautiful afternoon, isn't it?"

"Never mind that nonsense," he replied in a gruff voice. "Who are you? Why are you trespassing on the territory of Verdauga, Lord of Mossflower?"

"I am Queen Daenerys Targaryen, Mother of Dragons. I seek an audience with your king, Verdauga Greeneyes."

The weasel captain looked the party over. "Kotir did not achieve greatness by allowing Dothraki savages through its gates."

"You see these dragons?" Dany said. "When they are grown, they will lay waste to armies and burn cities to the ground. And if you turn us away, someday we will be back, and my dragons will burn your crumbling wreck of a castle to the ground, along with everyone in it!"

The three dragons hissed in unison.

The weasel captain took a step back. "I'll go talk to Verdauga, see what he says."

He went into the castle and walked to Verdauga's throne room. Inside, Verdauga was sitting on an ornate chair, with his daughter Tsarmina and his son Gingivere on either side of him. A female fox wearing a ragged cloak and an old pine marten with a wooden leg stood nearby.

The weasel began, "O mighty Verdauga, master of the thousand eyes, slayer of enemies, ruler of Kotir…"

"Ah, give your whining tongue a rest, Cludd," Verdauga interrupted. "Just get to the point."

"There's a human girl outside calling herself a queen. She says she wants to talk to you."

"What does she want to talk about?" Verdauga asked.

"I don't know."

"She must be a fool, to walk right up to our castle," said Tsarmina. "Usually people try to avoid us."

"Did she give a name?" Verdauga inquired.

"Daenerys Targaryen," Cludd answered.

Verdauga stroked his chin. "Targaryen. Now there's a name to conjure with. The Targaryen family used to rule the human country of Westeros, but I thought they were all dead."

"Apparently not," said Gingivere.

"Well, send her on in," said Verdauga. "It would be unbecoming for us to fear a little girl."

"She's got a few Dothraki with her too," Cludd warned.

"Well, you can tell them to remain outside."

Cludd went back to Dany. "You can come in, but the others can't."

"Very well," said Dany. "My khalasar will wait for me until I return. But my dragons go wherever I go. There can be no question about this."

Jorah put a hand on her arm. "Be careful in there."

"I don't need to be careful," she said. "I have the blood of the dragon."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

At Harrenhal, the head of the tortured prisoner was hammered onto a spike above the stockade. Gregor had chosen Gendry to be the next subject of questioning. "Where are the Brotherhood Without Banners now?"

"I don't know!" Gendry cried. "I don't even know what a brotherhood without banners is!"

"We'll see about that," said the Tickler. "Somebody gimme the bucket."

Just then Tywin Lannister came in. "What is going on here?"

Gregor bowed. "Lord Tywin! We weren't expectin' you for another day!"

"Why aren't these prisoners in the cells?" Tywin asked.

"There's no room for them. The cells are overflowin'."

"They won't be for long!" Polliver interjected. "Not if we keep killin' them at the rate we've been goin'."

"And are you so well manned that you can afford to discard able and skilled prisoners?" Tywin asked. "If you had any sense, you'd put them to work instead of simply slaughtering them." He looked at Gendry. "Do you have a trade, boy?"

"I'm a smith," said Gendry.

"Put him to work in the armory," Tywin instructed. "We need every pair of hands we can find."

Meg had been shooting hate filled stares at Polliver this whole time. Now he noticed. "What are you lookin' at, boy? You better get down and kneel!"

Tywin looked over at Meg. "That's not a boy, you idiot! That's a girl!" He addressed Meg. "Why are you dressed as a boy?"

Meg shrugged. "Safer to travel that way."

"That's good thinking," said Tywin. "I can see you've got more brains than most of my own soldiers. I'm going to make you my cup bearer."