Robb at the Crossing, Part VI

Persuasion

King Stannis, the first of his name, drew his cloak closer around him. His breathe condensed into fleeting clouds. The torches they carried gave no heat. Varys motioned him forward. Neatly set among the great blocks of ice were five wood boxes. The lids were removed by the stewards. Stannis showed no emotion as he glanced in each coffin. The first four bodies could have been sleeping, only their stony pallor spoke of death. At the fifth he paused; it was a shambles despite the best efforts of the Silent Sisters to make it whole. Stannis had seen many battle wounds, and the odd decapitation. No soldier did this; some animal more likely. Yet there was a method to it. The face was untouched and appeared untroubled. He must have already been dead when the gnawing began.

There would be no rumors this time that any had escaped the slaughter; that an imposter was in the grave. He'd have the corpses laid out in the Great Sept to silence doubters. They'd have to do something about Joffrey's head. Mounted on a pike above the Red Keep's gatehouse would be a fitting tribute to the Bastard King. There was room there now. Stannis had no sooner debarked than he ordered the remains of Eddard Stark and his household removed. The heads had been restored to their bodies, such as they were, and placed in marked boxes for return to Winterfell. But no; he would not begin his reign by defiling corpses. He'd give Tywin that much.

"A feeble old man did all this, you say?"

"Your Grace, there are no witnesses, only a few objects of evidence and of what the circumstances speak. Grand Maester Pycelle has not yet been persuaded to reveal the truth. He babbles of ravens and impugns Clegane."

"Pycelle was ever Tywin's man; what motive could he have?"

Petyr Baelish stepped out of the ice fog and into the torch light. "Your Grace, perhaps news of the Stark boy's victory at Riverrun caused him to doubt that Tywin would prevail. No better traitor than a friend. He must have believed he'd earn a great reward."

"Not from me. Robert received his crown from the Lannisters. I will be beholden to no man, no kingslayer. Whatever Pycelle's guilt I would not have kept him. Maester Cressen will continue to serve me here. You, my friends, will keep your offices for the time being. I don't trust either of you so I have no fear of betrayal."
"Your Grace, I would not presume to speak for others, but my absolute devotion and loyalty is to the realm. I would not serve you if I believed your claim was not just."

Stannis looked sharply at Varys. "And do you serve me now, without equivocation?"

The Master of Whispers prostrated himself in a cold puddle, "Yes, your Grace."

Stannis turned to the Master of Coin. He dropped to the floor beside Varys, "Yes, your Grace."

"Arise, you're getting wet. I still don't trust you, but you may live longer."

A page appeared and knelt shivering before Stannis. "Your Grace, a ship has entered the Blackwater. It flies your standard."

Tyrion absently scratched his butt. It was a warm afternoon. He and Bronn had been standing in a hilltop meadow under a banner of peace for nearly an hour. The Stone Crows had reported that Robb's army, not Dondarrion's bandits, was blocking the kingsroad and the land east to the sea. It had taken several days to make it this far, fighting most of the way. It was worth a try. "If we get killed, I swear I'll kill you," Bronn muttered.

They did not have to wait much longer. A score of horsemen approached from a nearby wood. In the lead Tyrion noted the sleek form of a young woman. He knew Robb had several in his host but this girl he could not place. She wore the Frey sigil and carried an exotic short bow, Dornish or maybe Dothraki. Her stallion was spirited but moved with a practiced lightness and direction. So far as he could see she used no reins. The girl's blonde hair bounced most agreeably as she rode. The other riders surrounded the two men with lowered spears as she came up before them. From her saddle a cord depended. Along it were strung a number of blackened fleshy objects. Ears, he concluded. Could she be from the mountain clans?

"Tyrion Lannister; you are as they describe."

"Less the horns and tail, or was it horn and tails? And you my lady?" She had striking blue eyes. They seemed to glow with a light of their own. Her cheeks were marked with red streaks.

"Walda Frey, daughter of Walton, granddaughter of Lord Stevron, bannerman of House Tully, sworn to King Robb."

"I would have guessed a Black Ear; I've met some."

"They sound admirable. What is your business in the Riverlands?"

"My purpose is to visit King's Landing to make obeisance to our new king, Stannis. I humbly request passage. You have heard of his ascension?"

"The North already has its king. Your Joffrey had a sense of humor. Do all Lannisters share it?"

"We did differ on some things. He often laughed at me."

"Make me laugh." Before Tyrion could blink she had notched and loosed an arrow. It struck the ground between his legs, driving in to the fletchings. Walda danced her mount around Tyrion. "Your Joffrey would have laughed to see you shit your pants."

He stuck his hand down his backside and pulled it out unsoiled. "Not today."

"And no sport in the shot."

"If you like you could try again with my pants off. It is said that when standing a dwarf's dong will touch the ground."

The men, including Bronn laughed. Walda smiled. "Not today, ser dwarf. I might nail it there."

"If it pleases your ladyship my dong only reaches my knees."

Walda spun around and loosed a second arrow just brushing Bronn's crotch. He jumped.

"Ah, the sellsword Lady Catelyn mentioned. Bronn is it? Did I frighten your little bird?"

"No, your ladyship. But you did wake him up."

"As quick with your lip as your blade. How good are you with a bow?" She offered hers.

Bronn took the bow, turned it around and drew back the string. "A strong pull."

"It is Dothraki, made with horn and sinew. Unstring and string it. That is the first test."

Bronn looked up at her bemused. Planting one end of the bow on the ground between his feet, he pushed down on the other end with his right hand and made to slip the loop off the nock with his left. He pushed and pushed again hard; he put his weight into it and with a grunt the string came loose. But then the bow suddenly twisted and snapped forwards striking his right hand. "Yow!" He jumped back.

The men who had been watching laughed uproariously.

"Lesson learned, your ladyship."

"Well enough for a first try; now string it."

He held the bow now unstrung; the tips well forward of the grip. Bronn thought for a moment. Clamping the bow tightly between his knees he leaned his hip against the curve, while pulling back the crook with his right hand. Gripping the loop of the string hard with his left hand he pulled it up to meet the nock. Slowly the curve of the bow began to straighten. His knuckles whitened, sweat dripped from his brow. In her saddle Walda sat with legs up and crossed calmly observing. Bronn's hand slipped and the bow kicked back violently. There was more laughter from the men. Walda looked around and frowned, "Not one of you succeeded on the first try! It took me a day of trying."

Bronn spit on both hands, took the loop in his teeth and with both hands pulled back on the tip. The bow finally reversed. He moved his head back, the tendons in his neck protruding. With a final effort he slipped the loop into the nock. He stood up straight and handed the bow back to Walda. The men nodded approvingly. Tyrion noticed that several men carried similar bows.

"Ser Bronn, you are very strong; but there are other ways to string this bow. I could show you how a girl can do it in the saddle."

"Your ladyship, that I would like to see."

"Ah, if you would join me; my tricks are only for sworn men. I cannot match Lannister gold, but there are other benefits."

"My Lady Walda, Bronn is under a contract."

She looked back at the sellsword. He shrugged. She winked, stuck two fingers in her mouth and whistled so piercingly that Tyrion grimaced and held his ears. A covey of ptarmigans burst from the brush at least 50 paces away. With two quick shots using arrows held in her bow hand she brought down a brace. Tyrion noticed movement above and saw a large white bird darting down. It grabbed one of the dead grouse in its talons and flapped slowly away into the trees.

"In the field we have fresh game every day." Two of Walda's men raced each other to claim the remaining bird.

"My Lady, you could easily have stopped that thief."

"White ravens are almost as rare these days as Lannisters. I've a mind to spare a few."

"A dwarf Lannister is even rarer."

"So they are. My king may consider your petition if only for your novelty. You will come alone, blindfolded; and ride one of our horses. You will be returned here by nightfall tomorrow. We will respect your banner until then. Bronn, you and the others will be safe from us if you keep the peace and do not stray beyond this point. I cannot speak for those who disdain all banners. Truth be told if they kill you all I will have no regrets. Oh, perhaps just one; a very small one."

Tyrion turned to Bronn, "Do as she says. If I don't return, you remember where I hid the gold?"

"If I knew that I wouldn't be here now. Just make sure you come back, you owe me."

"'Little bird', ha!"

"She knew where to find my cock. Advantage mine."

"Just the same, you would be wise not to wave it around. That one might bite it off."

Walda whistled again. This time, two pack houses led by a rider appeared at the tree line and trotted forward. There was a body on each horse. Tyrion stared; he recognized them. Walda had the bodies laid on the ground before Tyrion. "Stone Crows I believe; they died bravely."

"I knew them." He noticed an ear missing from each. "Bronn, return them to Shagga; tell him … just tell him."

Tyrion felt the pain grow in his legs. They had been riding hard for several hours. He was thirsty. How much longer, he wondered? The sun was no longer hot on his face. Had it already set? The pace slowed. After a time he felt a soft touch on his hand. "Joffrey, now, he could not take a jest. It is said that was his downfall. So unlike his father. They say King Robert would have laughed at some bird shit on his head. The Dothraki would count it good fortune. Are you certain you are a trueborn Lannister? Your mother never strayed from Tywin's bed?"

"I believe they loved each other. She died when I was born." He heard her take a sharp intact of breath. "You have been to court, my Lady Walda?"

"If you mean the Iron Throne I have never had the pleasure of a summons. I hear Stannis has no humor at all. Your audience promises much. Perhaps the ravens will give some report."

"And you could tell me what happened to Walder, your great-grandfather."

"You could see for yourself. For a month his head will remain on a traitor's pike at Riverrun."

"Would my condolences be appropriate?"

"Not to me or any I care for. But I forget myself; would you care for a drink?"

"Very much so, my lady."

Walda guided his hands to the wine skin and uncorked it for him. Her touch strangely thrilled him. He swallowed a deep draft.

"Ah, a southern vintage." He swallowed again.

"From the Arbor. Liberated from a Lannister wagon. Perhaps from your very cellar?"

"All the same, thank you."

"I have been wondering if it's true about something."

"About what, my lady?"

"Bronn's dong." He felt a quick kiss on his lips. She laughed merrily and rode away leaving him with the wine, tongue-tied. Got the last word; that doesn't happen often. How is it I've never heard of you?

"Guard, there; it would be easier if I knew your name."

"Brandon, your impship."

"Well, my good Brandon, how long has Lady Walda led your troop?"

"Fishing, your impship? Long enough."

"Surely, there is some innocent story that won't reveal any military secrets?"

"Well, they say that there was a man who annoyed her, asked too many questions. She cut off his balls, gouged out his eyes, stuffed them in his mouth, and took off his head with one stroke. If I were you, your impship, I wouldn't annoy her."

Tyrion dozed. The wine was strong and he had emptied the skin. He dreamed of Shae, her touch, her taste, her smell. She seemed so near. Bran. No, he didn't want to go there. Shae, she was before him; she reached out … Bran. The Stark boy, yes; bad business that. He stood on the Wall, he had to piss. He stepped out; the cold bit his face; he was falling… Bran. He felt crowded. Something was pushing in, There was no place to run. Ice, ice only ice.

He woke with a start, his bladder ready to burst. "Guard, there; I need to stop for a moment."

"What's that ser imp?"

"I would not appear before your king in wet pants. I did that once before."

"Rickard, come to think of it, I could use a moment myself."

"Wait." Tyrion heard a horse trot away. Waiting did not seem a good option.

"Put a cork in it, imp. He's coming back."

"You may dismount, Lannister." Tyrion lowered himself from his horse as quickly as he could, but his cramped leg caught in the stirrup. He felt himself falling. "Shit!" At the last instant strong hands grabbed him around the waist and set him lying in the mud unhurt. Scrambling to his feet he said, "Point me in the right direction."The hands turned him and pushed him forward a few steps.

"There you go, imp."

He loosened his belt and tugged it out. It was a good long piss. He sighed and began to pull himself together.

She snickered. "Seen better, ser dwarf; but all men are braggarts."

It was some time later when he sensed a difference in the smells and noise in the air, smoke and chatter, the bustle of a great encampment. The pace picked up. There were a few more turns and then the horse stopped. "Here we are, your impship. Off you go."

"I'll need your assistance again, my Good Brandon." He helped Tyrion to the ground.

"Need to piss again?"

"Only when I can take off this fucking blindfold."

"You can ask King Robb. Come along, I'll steer you." He felt a firm hand on his shoulder nudging him along. It was a short walk and into a pavilion, warm and redolent of unbathed bodies and roasted meat. Someone's fingers untied his blindfold and it fell away. He blinked and rubbed his eyes. A large group of rough looking men and a few women somewhat less so sat around many trestle tables, laughing, talking, drinking and spearing steaming chunks from large platters with their knives. He recognized Robb immediately speaking animatedly with an enormous fellow waving a shank of mutton. His mouth watered. A great wolf with yellow eyes looked up from under the table and bared his teeth.

"Your Grace, you have a visitor." It was Walda speaking from behind him. Her clear lilting voice cut right through the hubbub. Robb looked up at a point above Tyrion's head. He jumped to his feet, a huge grin on his face, his eyes sparkling. Robb clambered over the table, knocking over cups and plates. "To her, lad!" the Greatjon thundered. Walda ran past Tyrion and met her king as he jumped to the ground. They embraced and kissed with abandon. He lifted Walda from the ground and spun her around. The pavilion erupted in cheers and shouts. The wolf howled. Theon whooped and pounded the table. Tyrion smiled despite himself. The difference between this and the Lannister camp could not have been more stark. There were some, however, who did not seem to share in the merriment. One was a tall dark haired woman in battle dress carrying a savage mace over her shoulder, standing behind where Robb had been seated. Her face would have been quite lovely were she only to smile. Several men seated together gave the couple hard looks. And then he noticed Lady Catelyn glaring at him. He nodded to her, then stared straight ahead and waited to be recognized.

Walda laughed. "My king you have another visitor." She gestured to Tyrion.

"Yes, Tyrion, you must think me as poor a host as when last we met at Winterfell, but it has been too long since I saw Fair Walda. It was the day we learned of my lord father's death."

"Your Grace," he bowed low, "our families have both suffered grievously. As a Lannister I offer my sincere condolences. Eddard Stark was a good man and no traitor. Tommen and Myrcella were good children; you met them at Winterfell. She spoke fondly of you. He wished to be a knight."

The pavilion had become quiet, all seemed to strain to hear his words. There were many, no doubt prepared to shout him down. There was murmuring. Walda hid her face on Robb's shoulder. "I would hear it from your own lips. Did you try to kill my brother?"

He looked to Catelyn and then back to Robb. "I do swear before the Gods, both old and new, that I did not!"

All eyes were on Robb. Walda squeezed his arm and stepped back. Robb stared for a moment at Tyrion. "Please come ser, we must talk." The onlookers were perplexed, not knowing how to respond to this unlikely courtesy. Robb sensed the unease and addressed them. "Lord Tyrion's words are welcome, but his father and brother still torment our lands. I would hear what else he has to say. My war council! Tyrion please come with me."

Catelyn sat at a large table. With her were the other council members, Theon Greyjoy, Jon Umber, Rickard Karstark, Stevron Frey, Maege Mormont, and Galbart Glover. Robb told a page to bring meat, ale and cheese for the newcomers. Grey Wind lay at Walda's feet.

Robb spoke. "You travel to King's Landing. Stannis is no friend of the Lannisters. More than any he profits from their demise. What makes you think he won't kill you outright let alone grant an audience?"

"I am a dwarf. There would be no honor in my death and Stannis is an honorable man. He may not accept a Lannister's word but he'll listen. Just as you are."

"And he would ask what Tywin want's in return. It is not peace or your mission would be first to me."

"One negotiates from a strong position. My lord father would make his stronger."

"Why then should I permit your embassy to proceed? This very day we raided the Lannister camps. Many will go hungry tonight. The meat on your plate comes from Lannister supply trains. Already there are desertions; they will increase. Soon enough your father will have to choose a heroic death or starvation … or parley, from a very weak position."

"My brother will have a say in that. That lion is loose. Was it not your plan that he share a cell with Ser Stevron's lord father? And how does Lord Walder fare? Does your lordship wear well, my lord?"

"My father paid the traitor's price for treating with Tywin, dwarf. As for 'lordship' how sweet is Casterly Rock to you?"

"I would come by it naturally. Did you not receive yours from Tully hands dripping with father's blood?"
Catelyn looked to Walda and saw her lips move silently. Would she speak? The girl had insisted that Robb and Stevron hear the account from her first. They did not know. Catelyn had said only that Walder had been tried and beheaded. But rumors in the camp were rife.

Stevron stood. "Treason is unnatural. As are you, dwarf! Your father's shame!"

Robb placed a hand on Stevron's shoulder. "This banter serves us little."

"My King, might I speak?"

He saw her tremble. "My lady, what is it?"

"No Tully hand slew Walder." She raised both her hands. "It was by these. I am the kinslayer. Is it not so Lady Catelyn?"

"Yes, dear Walda; it was truly a mercy."

"Walda, my child! What cowardice stayed my hand? You know what they …"

"They will fear, grandfather."

"Let all fear a woman's hand." Maege slammed the table with her fist.

Robb took Walda's hands in his and kissed them. "I would wash all this blood away."

Tyrion watched in wonder. What a hornet's nest he'd struck. Was there some advantage here?

"There you have news, even I did not know. I will give you a message for your father. My terms are simple. He returns to the Westerlands with all his force save only Gregor Clegane, Vargo Hoat, and Amory Lorch. They will be surrendered to my justice. If Lord Lannister, the Kingslayer or any of his bannermen, sellswords or agents of any kind ever set foot in my kingdom again I will raze Casterly Rock to the ground. Can you remember that much or must I commit it to parchment?" Tyrion nodded. "When you return with his response then I will consider your request."

"Spare me the journey your Grace; the march this far was costly enough in time and lives. I will tell you now what he will say, 'there can be no peace while one of us lives'."

"Have it his way, then. Walder's head is lonely with only crows as company!" Theon sneered.

The Greatjon laid the rib he had been chewing on the table. "But Lannister what are your terms? After all, this bloody business began over an accusation against you, which I believe has been withdrawn?" He glanced pointedly at Catelyn.

"Yes … I was badly misled by someone I trusted."

"And yet the war continues, each day with its tally of dead, high born and low. So, what might Westeros expect from Lord Tyrion Lannister? … Come now, Lannister, surely you've given it thought? It may come to you soon enough, naturally or not. No one is completely safe, even in his own keep."

"Cruck, cruck, well met Tyrion Lannister, cruck."

A large white raven landed on the table seemingly from nowhere. It swaggered up to Tyrion and snatched a morsel from his plate. "Lord Tyrion Lannister, cruck."

For an instant Tyrion's face betrayed his shock. It did not go unnoticed. But as quickly he laughed. "Portents and omens? The raven has spoken. You have no need of a fool, King Robb, with birds to entertain." He fed another piece of mutton to the raven. "Your name, Ser Raven?"

"Rhaegar, Rhaegar, cruck."

"A proud name for a noble bird. I see you feed well."

Catelyn caught Walda's eye. What game are you playing?

Theon who had found it difficult not gawking at Walda noticed the exchange.

"Rhaegar, come here." Robb tapped the table. The bird hopped over and dipped his beak to the table. "Your Grace, cruck!" Then he jumped on Robb's outstretched arm. "Rhaegar is no man's fool. I would like to hear your answer to Lord Umber's question."

"I am a simple man; I wish only peace and justice, if King Stannis will allow. I have no claim on the Riverlands or the North. And I will reveal something more. My father does not expect Stannis to take his side over yours, only to remain neutral. Renly should keep his brother occupied for some time. My reason for going to King's Landing is much planer, to return the bodies of our dead to Casterly Rock and avenge their murder."

"Tyrion, Stannis will surely agree, as I believe he will to my request for Ned and all who died serving him. He is hard but not heartless."

"My Lady Catelyn, perhaps we may travel together and so make our petitions one?"

"But wouldn't that imply some equivalency? Men are not all brothers in death. Let the murderers wait on the murdered."

"As you will, my lady. Your Grace, do I then have your leave to go?"

"You may rest here a few hours. Before dawn you will depart for the rendezvous. On the third day we shall watch for your return. My men will escort you as far as Stannis's word rules. The Crownlands are near. You may bring one man with you."

"Thank you your Grace. Perhaps we can talk of other matters now." Walda refilled Tyrion's cup with ale.

"You do not recoil from a kinslayer's hands?"

"Were they not already claimed I would dare to ask for them." Walda smiled.

"A chivalrous riposte, Tyrion. Lady Mormont might care to hear news of her brother."

"I was most impressed by the Lord Commander. Your brother does his House proud."

"I would have him at my side in this war. How has he aged? It has been long since we met."

"Nearly bald, his beard is grizzled, strong as an aurochs but they call him the 'old bear'. And he has a constant companion. You may find this interesting my Lady Walda, his friend is a raven. Speaks, too; but not with Rhaegar's facility."

"Nonetheless it would be amusing to hear them converse. It may be difficult to understand them for ravens have their own language. I have often imagined visiting the Wall."

"The vista from the top will haunt you. One might easily believe in grumpkins and snarks. The Lord Commander asked for my help the last night. He wanted me to speak to the King, we had only one then, and plead the case of the Night's Watch. You are the first king I've encountered since so you shall hear it. They are too weak to defend the Wall. Mormont has barely three and a third men for each mile. And their quality is poor. Too few join willingly with honorable motives. The recruits Jon and I travelled with included thieves and rapists. 'Winter is coming' is not just a Stark motto, Mormont believes it is nearly upon us. The mountain people are running from something terrible. There are reports of white walkers near Eastwatch. He fears for the realm, that the darkness will sweep south."

Maege gripped her mace, and then set it down. "Robb, I would ride tomorrow, with your leave."

"Our help would mean nothing if we turn our backs to Tywin. Have you told this to your father?"

"He says Mormont is always grumbling about something. I imagine Stannis will be more receptive."

"I am King in the North and will send word to Castle Black. Only words now but a promise of real help when peace is won."

"King Robb, your brother asked me to give you a message. Regretfully I failed to convey it last we met. It would seem more relevant now. "

"It wounds me to hear that my ill manners delayed word from Jon. What did he say?"

"That he would command the Night's Watch and keep you safe, so you could melt your sword into horseshoes and take up needle work with your sisters."

They all laughed, even Catelyn. But there were tears in Robb's eyes.

"We stood together atop the Wall. He was on guard, his wolf (Ghost is it?) was with him. He offered his hand and called me friend. I hadn't expected that."

Robb stood. "That saddle for Bran you drew the picture of, I had it built. It works. Thank you." He extended his hand. Tyrion took it in his.

"You are most welcome, King Robb."

Robb held Walda close. They lay naked together in the furs. With his free hand he fondled her breast.

"Your great uncle wanted me to persuade you; were you persuaded, my sweet?"

"Brynden was on your mind? If I had thought of him I'd be a poor lover. He wanted something?"

"Yes, silly! It was his plan that Lady Catelyn treat with Stannis. And I, by your command, travel with her; and consequently share your bed this night. So speak kindly of Ser Brynden. You read his message?"

"Oh, that message." Robb considered for a moment. "He argued for an attack on Harrenhal before. I didn't agree then. My way is working. It's not just waiting for the fruit to fall, we strike often and hard. Tywin is weakened each time. He gets no provisions or fresh levies. But now with Joffrey dead and Stannis enthroned it may be time."

"He sent Tyrion through your lines; that's an act of desperation."

"Tyrion didn't appear very desperate."

"I believe he is considering the possibilities. They may favor him. He is cleverer than most. I like him."

"I may become jealous if you keep this up. Who's next, Stannis?"

She straddled his chest and brought her face nose to nose with Robb's. "Poor little boy; I want only one man tonight."

"Mother told me of your eyes, they're beautiful. This happened while you slept?"

She shrugged and rolled off him onto her back. "Fine if you'd rather talk … I do not understand it. Maester Vyman had no explanation. But my raven changed, too; from black to white. We flew in my dream. It was magnificent! I will teach you and we'll fly together."

"It might disturb my bannermen if I came back changed, with golden hair, perhaps?" They laughed. "Maybe a short flight. How came you by him?"

"It was Rhaegar who brought word of your lord father's death. There is also Elia, his mate. He freed her from the Red Keep."

"Freed her?"

"I just watched. He figured it out all himself."

"Is Rhaegar how you found Tyrion?"

"Lord Karstark permitted me to take my troop on patrol while awaiting your return. He was prudent enough to reinforce us with 100 riders. There were reports of activity east of kingsroad. We searched and found only a few outriders. But ravens have very sharp eyes. To look through them is to see the world anew."

"A watcher in the skies. If only we could be in two places at once; see the enemy's movements from above and command in the field. Did you nap?"

"I was not with Rhaegar when he found Tyrion."

"But … how?"

"He knows how to hunt. I just taught him some names."

The raven lighted on Walda's shoulder. "Cruck, good day King Robb."

"Grey Wind, speak!"

The wolf looked up lazily from where he lay under a blanket. "Woof."

"Good wolf."

She reached under the furs and felt him. "Seems you're ready for more persuasion."

"And what instruments will you use?"

"My lips, my tongue, my hands, my feet, my arms, my legs, and all the parts you like especially. But first I must show you how to 'persuade' me."

"And what instruments shall I use?"

"You have so much to learn, Robb Stark."

Tyrion lifted his blindfold. He had not spoken with Walda or heard her voice doing the long ride back so was not surprised when he did not see her. Bronn glumly waved a greeting and helped him off the horse. One of the escorts came up, leaned over and rubbed the top of Tyrion's head. Laughing he said, "I promise you this, your impship, if we ever meet in battle I won't kill you; I'll take you for ransom."

"Generally, the wiser course with a Lannister. Fare thee well, Good Brandon." He trotted away.

"So, what of her ladyship?"

"Out of reach, I fear. She has Robb Stark's heart. But count yourself fortunate, she also has a disturbing tendency to cut a man down to size."

Bronn cast him a wry glance. "No luck with her bow, eh?"

"In a manner of speaking. How far is Rook's Roost from here?"

"If nobody attacks us, maybe half a day. So the Stark boy won't let us through?"

"He would delay us three days; all the more reason to get there sooner. If there's a boat to hire we'll be in King's Landing in two."