Melwys stirred, tasted, and looked around smiling. "The soup's done." Sansa smiled back and started slicing a big loaf of bread, handing around slices, while Arya and Brienne brought bowls to the table. Melwys carried the pot of soup over, and seeing the hunger in his guest's faces, rapped out a quick blessing and began serving.

Sandor and Podrick were in the middle of their second helping and Sansa was cutting the last of the bread when the door opened and the young gravedigger came in. "Emrys!" Melwys stood up to introduce his foster son but his smile faded as several more men crowded in. The old man looked narrowly at the younger. "Emrys, who are these people?"

The men moved quickly, putting knives to the throats of the surprised visitors. Sandor started to get up anyway and a sharp prick sent blood trickling down his neck. The color drained from Sansa's face and it was the sight of her terror that subdued him. He slumped back in his chair, snarling at Melwys, "I hope you live long enough for me to kill you for this."

The round little maester seemed to grow a foot taller. "It was not I who brought these men of violence into my house." Once again he looked searchingly at Emrys. "Son?"

The young man avoided his eyes. "They're outlaws with a price on their heads and we need the money. You're always saying how you would do more if we weren't so poor."

The leader of the intruders laughed. "That's right, boy. Five hundred silver stags you'll get for this night's work."

"No, he won't!" said Melwys swiftly. "Emrys, I forbid you to accept blood money."

The leader lunged at Melwys and knocked him to the floor with a vicious backhand. The young gravedigger gave a distressed cry and fell to his knees by the old man. Melwys was stunned for a moment, then he raised himself on an elbow and said clearly, "I want you all out of my house and I order you not to harm my guests."

For a moment the intruders were shocked into stillness by the sheer audacity of the old man, then one of them laughed and strode forward to kick Melwys in the face. Emrys threw himself at the man and a heavy blow laid him out face down next to his foster father.

"Enough!"

Now it was the hapless band of travelers who froze as a familiar and detestable figure strode into the room and looked them over with an unpleasant smile. After all their work and worry, after everything they had been through, against all odds, they were prisoners of the Lord of the Vale, Petyr Baelish.