Sansa would always remember the night of her flight from King's Landing with the Hound. After agreeing to leave with him, things moved fast. She barely had time to gather what few jewels she had and seize her travelling cloak. Sandor would not delay any longer and they were soon hurrying through the castle towards the stables. Confusion reigned when they got there, as the stabled horses smelled the smoke from the burning ships and were kicking and snorting while stableboys hurried around trying to calm them. Sandor took advantage of the mayhem to saddle his own mount, his enormous warhorse, Stranger, and lead him out to the stable yard. Even that experienced horse was fractious, and flattened his ears at a passing lad before attempting to bite him. Sandor quickly swung Sansa up into the saddle before mounting behind her. "We'll have to ride double as we leave the city", he said. " Can't risk getting separated". Sansa said nothing, remembering the last time she'd been alone in the city. She had been within a hair's breadth of being raped by half a hundred men like poor Lollys Stokeworth had been, except Lollys hadn't had the Hound to save her. Sansa wasn't a confident rider as it was, so riding with the Hound was preferable to managing a horse, particularly one that was like to be maddened by the wildfire blazing across the sky.
Leaving through the castle gate was easy, recognising the Hound in his Kingsguard cloak, the guards on the gate allowed them to pass without challenging them. As they headed through the city towards the Gate of the Gods, the shrieks of the citizens rained around them, and panicking people ran amok in the streets. Peering from under the hood of her cloak, Sansa saw a wine merchant attempting to defend his stores from some men who were armed with clubs and knives. As they passed, she saw the wine merchant's head split open by a screaming man wielding an axe, and his lifeless body dropping to the ground. Shuddering, she turned her face into the Hound's breastplate and closed her eyes. If she kept them closed, then she could pretend it wasn't happening. But she could not prevent the noise of the mob from assaulting her ears. She thought she would remember the sound forever.
On reaching the city gate, they were able to pass through without argument. Others had had the same idea before them and were fleeing King's Landing in the event it was sacked by Stannis' army. A train of refugees wound their way along the road. Only Sansa and Sandor were ahorse, and curious eyes gazed at them as Stranger plodded by. Sandor looked down at Sansa as she sat sideways on the pommel of the saddle. The hood of her cloak covered her fiery hair, and her face was turned to his chest. She might have been sleeping if her knuckles hadn't been white with the grip she had maintained on the armour that cladded his upper arm. Sandor cleared his throat. "Girl", he rasped. After a moment, Sansa raised her head. Sandor continued, " We are now on the road North. We can make Riverrun some days from now but the Eyrie might be safer". Safer for me as well, Sandor thought with an inner scowl, not to meet Robb Stark and his army when he was in company with his captive sister, whether he was delivering her back to her family or no. The Young Wolf might be relieved to have his sister back but that did not mean he was like to forget that the Hound was or had been in the service of the Lannisters. Best to avoid that little complication and continue on to the Eyrie to deliver Sansa to the care and protection of her aunt.
Sansa swayed in the saddle slightly. She was uncomfortable, and her riding position atop the pommel was alien to a northern girl used to riding astride deep in the saddle itself. Her back ached from keeping it upright, to relax backwards would have meant settling into the Hound's arm. She was tired, so tired. "The Eyrie then", she murmured. "Aunt Lysa will shelter me".
Sandor heard, rather than felt, Sansa sigh deeply. She's exhausted, he thought. He felt the same himself. Stranger ambled on, his undulating gait adding to the weariness that now crept upon them. "The Eyrie it is then", Sandor said softly. "We will go to the Lord of the Vale".