He speaks more gentlythan Joffrey, she thought, but the queen spoke to me gently too. He’s still aLannister, her brother and Joff’s uncle, and no friend. Once she had lovedPrince Joffrey with all her heart, and admired and trusted his mother, thequeen. They had repaid that love and trust with her father’s head. Sansawould never make that mistake again.

“I am sorry for your loss as well, Joffrey,” the dwarf said.“What loss?”“Your royal father? A large fierce man with a black beard; you’ll recall himif you try. He was king before you.”“Oh, him. Yes, it was very sad, a boar killed him.”

Myrcella came running after her brother, and the dwarf picked her up by thewaist and spun her in a circle, squealing.When he lowered her back to the ground, the little man kissed her lightlyon the brow

Yet Tommen put his spurs into his pony and galloped headlong across theyard, shouting with glee.

the elder instead of Joffrey, Sansa thought. I wouldn’t mind marrying

Tommen’s opponent was a child-sized leather warriorstuffed with straw and mounted on a pivot,

Could it be true? Sansa had notknown. It was just something she’d said, desperate to avoid punishment.

The Redwyne twins were the queen’s unwillingguests, even as Sansa was. She wondered whose notion it had been for themto ride in Joffrey’s tourney. Not their own, she thought.

Once that would have set her heart to pounding, but that wasbefore he had answered her plea for mercy by presenting her with her father’shead. His touch filled her with revulsion now, but she knew better than toshow it. She made herself sit very still.

Must Robb and her lady mother die next?

“He is the dragon’s heir—and crimson is the color ofHouse Lannister, another sign. This comet is sent to herald Joffrey’s ascent tothe throne, I have no doubt. It means that he will triumph over his enemies.”

She yearned to see hermother again, and Robb and Bran and Rickon ... but it was Jon Snow shethought of most. She wished somehow they could come to the Wall beforeWinterfell, so Jon might muss up her hair and call her “little sister.” She’d tellhim, “I missed you,” and he’d say it too at the very same moment, the waythey always used to say things together. She would have liked that. She wouldhave liked that better than anything.

He spat. “That pie boy’s hurting worse. It wasn’t him as killed your father,girl, nor that thieving Lommy neither. Hitting them won’t bring him back.”

She had cried in her sleep the night before, dreaming of her father. Comemorning, she’d woken red-eyed and dry, and could not have shed another tearif her life had hung on it.

“He prob’ly stole it.”“I did not!” she shouted. Jon Snow had given her Needle. Maybe she had tolet them call her Lumpyhead, but she wasn’t going to let them call Jon a thief.

But she knew it wouldn’t, and anyhow Sansa was stillin the city and would wash away too. When she remembered that, Aryadecided to wish for Winterfell instead.

As he sank to his knees, still he shook his head, denying her,denying her power, denying her magic, denying her god. And the cowbellspeeled in his antlers, singing fool, fool, fool while the red woman lookeddown on him in pity, the candle flames dancing in her red red eyes.

Maester Cressen blinked. Stannis, my lord, my sad sullen boy, son I neverhad, you must not do this, don’t you know how I have cared for you, lived foryou, loved you despite all? Yes, loved you, better than Robert even, or Renly,for you were the one unloved, the one who needed me most.

“Now here is a riddle,” Melisandre said. “A clever fool and a foolish wiseman.”

What had happened to Maester Pylos? Truly, hedid not understand.

“Melisandre has gazed into the flames, and seen him dead.”

Velaryon

“Renly’s made his own Kingsguard,” the onetime smuggler explained, “butthese seven don’t wear white. Each one has his own color. Loras Tyrell’s theirLord Commander.”

To his dying day,Jommy had sworn that Patchface’s flesh was clammy cold.

the longest summer in living memory.”

They werecoming to eat me.”

An ugly little girl and a sad fool, and maester makes three ... now there is atale to make men weep

The child had her lord father’s square jut of jawand her mother’s unfortunate ears, along with a disfigurement all her own, thelegacy of the bout of greyscale that had almost claimed her in the crib. Acrosshalf one cheek and well down her neck, her flesh was stiff and dead, the skin

The comet’s tail spread across the dawn, a red slash that bled above the cragsof Dragonstone like a wound in the pink and purple sky.

has always meant that therewas someone down in the valley because a mountain isnot a mountain if there is nothing below:

Howl'sMoving Castle

natural as Prometheus hating the birds

Why were only our heroes nonviolent? Ispeak not of the morality of nonviolence, but of the sensethat blacks are in especial need of this morality. Back thenall I could do was measure these freedom-lovers by what Iknew. Which is to say, I measured them against childrenpulling out in the 7-Eleven parking lot, against parentswielding extension cords, and "Yeah, nigger, what's upnow?" I judged them against the country I knew, whichhad acquired the land through murder and tamed it underslavery, against the country whose armies fanned out acrossthe world to extend their dominion. The world, the realone, was civilization secured and ruled by savage means.How could the schools valorize men and women whosevalues society actively scorned? How could they send usout into the streets of Baltimore, knowing all that theywere, and then speak of nonviolence?

When our elders presented school tous, they did not present it as a place of high learning butas a means of escape from death and penal warehousing.

Fully 60 percent of all young black men who drop out ofhigh school will go to jail.

Iobsessed over the distance between that other sector ofspace and my own.

In the evenings I would sitbefore this television bearing witness to the dispatchesfrom this other world. There were little white boys withcomplete collections of football cards, and their only wantwas a popular girlfriend and their only worry was poisonoak. That other world was suburban and endless, organizedaround pot roasts, blueberry pies, fireworks, ice cream sundaes, immaculate bathrooms, and small toy trucks thatwere loosed in wooded backyards with streams and glens.

I remember being amazed that death could so easily riseup from the nothing of a boyish afternoon, billow up likefog.

I waseleven years old,standing out in the parking lot in front ofthe 7-Eleven,

Maybe it didn't.All I know is, the violence rose from the fear like smoke

Have they told you this story? When your grandmother

My father was so veryafraid. I felt it in the sting of his black leather belt, whichhe applied with more anxiety than anger, my father whobeat me as if someo�e might steal me away, because that is

I have seen that dream all my life. Itis perfect houses with nice lawns. It is Memorial Daycookouts, block associations, and driveways. The Dream istreehouses and the Cub Scouts. The Dream smells likepeppermint but tastes like strawberr y shortcake.

That Sunday, with that host, on that news show,

Butat the end of the segment, the host flashed a widely sharedpicture of an eleven-year-old black boy tearfully hugginga white police officer.

The destroyers are merely men enforcing the whims of our country, correctly interpretingits heritage and legacy

that the police departments of yourcountry have been endowed with the authority to destroyyour body.

America believes itself exceptional, the greatest and noblest nation ever to exist, a lone champion standing between the white city of democracy and the terrorists,despots, barbarians, and other enemies of civilization.

life, liberty, labor, and land;

In thisway, racism is rendered as the innocent daughter of Mother'Nature

In 1863 it did not mean your motheror your grandmother, and it did not mean you and me.Thus America's problem is not its betrayal of "governmentof the people," but the means by which "the people" acquired their names.

the UnitedStates of America had one of the highest rates of suffragein the world.

W hen Abraham Lincoln declared, in 1863, that the battle of Gettysburg must ensure"that government of the people, by the people, for thepeople, shall not perish from the earth,"

But democracy is a forgiving God

that white America's progress, or rather the progress ofthose Americans who believe that they are white, was builton looting and violence.

A satellite closedthe miles between us, but no machinery could close thegap between her world and the world for which I hadbeen summoned to speak. W hen the host asked me aboutmy body, her face faded from the screen, and was replacedby a scroll of words, written by me earlier that week

Son,Last Sunday

and for the rst time inhundreds of years, the night came alive with the music of dragons.

streamsof milk owing from her red and swollen nipples

The rst star was a comet,burning red. Bloodred; re red; the dragon’s tail. She could not haveasked for a stronger sign.

The last dab was for hersex. Irri’s nger felt as light and cool as a lover’s kiss as it slid softlyup between her lips.

Stretching on her toes to reach hislips, she kissed the knight gently and said,

zenith.

“Why shouldn’t we ruleourselves again? It was the dragons we married, and the dragons areall dead!” He pointed at Robb with the blade. “There sits the onlyking I mean to bow my knee to, m’lords,” he thundered. “The Kingin the North!”

He hadpledged himself to marry a daughter of Walder Frey, but she saw histrue bride plain before her now: the sword he had laid on the table.

. I want you to live your life, tokiss a girl and wed a woman and father a son.

“Give me Cersei Lannister, Lord Karstark, and you would see howgentle a woman can be,” Catelyn replied.

“Renly is not the king,” Robb said. It was the rst time her sonhad spoken. Like his father, he knew how to listen.

Stone Hedge

he had ridden in battle and killed menwith a sword, surely he had been kissed. There were tears in hereyes. She wiped them away angrily.

Jeyne Poole

and Catelynfound herself wondering whether her son had ever kissed a girl inthe godswood. Surely he must have.

Sheasked herself what gods she kept these days, and could not nd ananswer.It would not do to disturb them at their prayers. The gods musthave their due ... even cruel gods who would take Ned from her,and her lord father as well. So Catelyn waited.

He is his father’s son as much asmine, I must remember. Oh, gods, Ned ...

“Little cat,” hemurmured in a voice thin and wispy and wracked by pain. “My littlecat.” A tremulous smile touched his face as his hand groped for hers.“I watched for you ...”

yet it did not lift her heart. She wondered if indeed her heartwould ever lift again. Oh, Ned ...

Forgive me, Father. Robb, Arya, Bran ... forgive me, I cannot help you.

“Do you think they chose me LordCommander of the Night’s Watch because I’m dumb as a stump,Snow? Aemon told me you’d go. I told him you’d be back. I knowmy men ... and my boys too. Honor set you on the kingsroad ... andhonor brought you back.”“My friends brought me back,” Jon said.“Did I say it was your honor?” Mormont inspected his plate.“They killed my father. Did you expect me to do nothing?”“If truth be told, we expected you to do just as you did.” Mormontfried a plum, spit out the pit. “I ordered a watch kept over you. Youwere seen leaving. If your brothers had not fetched you back, youwould have been taken along the way, and not by friends. Unlessyou have a horse with wings like a raven. Do you?

On the Wall, he’d heard men call thewhores “buried treasures.” He wondered whether any of hisbrothers in black were down there tonight, mining. That wasoathbreaking too, yet no one seemed to care.

Nor was he Aemon Targaryen.

Tyrion smiled crookedly. “Take heart, Father. At least RhaegarTargaryen is still dead.”

Stannis is bringing a shadowbinderfrom Asshai

“At his age, I committed afew follies of my own.”His father gave him a sharp look. “I suppose we ought to begrateful that he has not yet married a whore.”

ver the soul of obedience, Tyrion rose to depart with the rest,but his father gave him a look. “Not you, Tyrion. Remain. And youas well, Kevan. The rest of you, out.”

“When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east,” said MirriMaz Duur. “When the seas go dry and mountains blow in the windlike leaves. When your womb quickens again, and you bear a livingchild. Then he will return, and not before.”

A kind of madness took over her then, and she heard herself say,“Maybe my brother will give me your head.”

When the time came to dress, she chose the green silk gown that shehad worn to the tourney.

He was wearinga padded crimson doublet patterned with lions

Perhaps I will die too, she told herself, and the thought did notseem so terrible to her. If she ung herself from the window, shecould put an end to her suering, and in the years to come thesingers would write songs of her grief. Her body would lie on thestones below, broken and innocent, shaming all those who hadbetrayed her. Sansa went so far as to cross the bedchamber andthrow open the shutters ... but then her courage left her, and sheran back to her bed, sobbing.

Maester Luwin looked up at them numbly, a small grey man withblood on the sleeve of his grey wool robe and tears in his brightgrey eyes. “My lords,” he said to the sons, in a voice gone hoarseand shrunken, “we ... we shall need to nd a stonecarver who knewhis likeness well ...”

Soot stains blackened both legs of his uncle’s likeness

“You let my father be,” Rickon warned Luwin. “Youlet him be.”“Rickon,” Bran said softly. “Father’s not here.”“Yes he is. I saw him.” Tears glistened on Rickon’s face. “I sawhim last night.”“In your dream ...?”

Oh, there, he’s Cregan Stark. He fought with PrinceAemon once, and the Dragonknight said he’d never faced a nerswordsman.

The maester tugged at the chain around his neck, as he often didwhen he was uncomfortable. “Bran, sweet child, one day LordEddard will sit below in stone, beside his father and his father’sfather and all the Starks back to the old Kings in the North ... butthat will not be for many years, gods be good. Your father is aprisoner of the queen in King’s Landing. You will not nd him in thecrypts.”

We went downto the crypts. Father was there, and we talked. He was sad.”

Ser Rodrik should teach me to use a poleaxe.If I had a poleaxe with a big long haft, Hodor could be my legs. Wecould be a knight together.”

han any razor. Ice, she thought, he has Ice! Her tears streamed downher face, blinding her.

“My mother bids me let Lord Eddard takethe black, and Lady Sansa has begged mercy for her father.” Helooked straight at Sansa then, and smiled, and for a moment Aryathought that the gods had heard her prayer, until Jorey turnedback to the crowd and said, “But they have the soft hearts ofwomen. So long as I am your king, treason shall never gounpunished. Ser Ilyn, bring me his head!”

A stone came sailing out of the crowd. Arya cried out as she sawher father hit.

Let the High Septon and Baelor the Beloved andthe Seven bear witness to the truth of what I say: Jorey Baratheonis the one true heir to the Iron Throne, and by the grace of all thegods, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.”

“The Hand! They’ll be taking his head o, Buu says.”

She knew all of her father’s men. The three in thegrey cloaks were strangers.

another that he’ddied eating a boar, stung himself so full that he’d ruptured at thetable

Sheglimpsed the shadow of a great wolf, and another like a manwreathed in ames.

“No,” Mirri Maz Duur promised. “Not your death, Khaleesi.”Dany trembled with relief. “Do it.”

Death?” Dany wrapped her arms around herself protectively,rocked back and forth on her heels. “My death?” She told herself shewould die for him, if she must. She was the blood of the dragon, shewould not be afraid. Her brother Rhaegar had died for the womanhe loved

His son had been a babe as well, yet they hadripped him from his mother’s breast and dashed his head against awall. That was the way of men.

He was a re in humanskin.

Westerling

Lannister raised his head. “Lady Stark,” he said from his knees.Blood ran down one cheek from a gash across his scalp, but the palelight of dawn had put the glint of gold back in his hair. “I wouldoer you my sword, but I seem to have mislaid it.”

He was not wearinga helm

One of his companions was even awoman: Dacey Mormont,

Torrhen

Let him grow taller, she asked the gods. Let him know sixteen, andtwenty, and fty. Let him grow as tall as his father, and hold his ownson in his arms. Please, please, please.

A green boy, Tyrion remembered, more like to be brave than wise.He would have laughed, if he hadn’t hurt so much.

“Eddard!” avoice rang out. “For Eddard and Winterfell!”

“Remember, hew to the river.” He wasstill leading when they broke a canter, until Chella gave abloodcurdling shriek and galloped past him, and Shagga howled andfollowed. The clansmen charged after them, leaving Tyrion in theirdust.

TheBurned Men did not shout,

“The Stark boy stole a march on us,” Bronn said. “He crept downthe kingsroad in the night, and now his host is less than a mile northof here, forming up in battle array.”

odrick Payne

I went in caravan to Asshai bythe Shadow, to learn from their mages.

“As you command.” The knight gave her a curious look. “You areyour brother’s sister, in truth.”“Viserys?” She did not understand.“No,” he answered. “Rhaegar.” He galloped o.

so the brothels arepaying double for healthy young girls, and triple for boys under ten.

Across the road, a girl no older than Dany was sobbing in a highthin voice as a rider shoved her over a pile of corpses, facedown,and thrust himself inside her. Other riders dismounted to take theirturns. That was the sort of deliverance the Dothraki brought theLamb Men.I am the blood of the dragon, Daenerys Targaryen reminded herselfas she turned her face away. She pressed her lips together andhardened her heart and rode on toward the gate.

“Aemon ... Targaryen?” Jon could scarcely believe it.

My grandfather named me for Prince Aemon theDragonknight, who was his uncle, or his father, depending on whichtale you believe. Aemon, he called me ...”

“Tell me, Jon, if the dayshould ever come when your lord father must needs choose betweenhonor on the one hand and those he loves on the other, what wouldhe do?”

yet ravens are black, and they eat the dead, so some godlymen abhor them. Baelor the Blessed tried to replace all the ravenswith doves, did you know?” The maester turned his white eyes onJon, smiling. “The Night’s Watch prefers ravens.”

I ... he ... Jon, I didn’t want to ... he asked ... I mean ... I thinkhe knew, he sees things no one else sees ...”“He’s blind,”

Ser Endrew Tarth,

The details of his feats changed withevery dreaming, but quite often he imagined saving his father’s life.Afterward Lord Eddard would declare that Jon had proved himself atrue Stark, and place Ice in his hand.

He is giving me his son’s sword. Jon could scarcely believe it. Theblade was exquisitely balanced. The edges glimmered faintly as theykissed the light. “Your son—”

“Also, if your sister Arya is returned to us safely, it is agreed thatshe will marry Lord Walder’s youngest son, Elmar, when the two ofthem come of age.”Robb looked nonplussed. “Arya won’t like that one bit.”“And you are to wed one of his daughters, once the ghting isdone,” she nished. “His lordship has graciously consented to allowyou to choose whichever girl you prefer. He has a number he thinksmight be suitable.”To his credit, Robb did not inch. “I see.”“Do you consent?”“Can I refuse?”“Not if you wish to cross.”“I consent,” Robb said solemnly. He had never seemed moremanly to her than he did in that moment. Boys might play withswords, but it took a lord to make a marriage pact, knowing what itmeant.

Walder is Merrett’s son, named after me, and the otherone ... heh, I don’t recall ... he might have been another Walder,they’re always naming them Walder so I’ll favor them, but hisfather ... which one was his father now?”

Catelyn would gladly have spitted the querulous old man androasted him over a re,

do you think I requirelessons from the likes of you, Ryger? Your mother was milking goatsthe rst time I gave her my seed.”

His newest wife, a palefrail girl of sixteen years, walked beside his litter when they carriedhim in. She was the eighth Lady Frey.

. why is it always theinnocents who suer most, when you high lords play your game ofthrones?

“Rhaenys was a child too. Prince Rhaegar’s daughter. A preciouslittle thing, younger than your girls. She had a small black kitten shecalled Balerion, did you know? I always wondered what happenedto him.

The thought of Jon lled Ned with a sense of shame, and a sorrowtoo deep for words. If only he could see the boy again, sit and talkwith him ... p

“Robb is only a boy,” Ned said, aghast.“A boy with an army,” Varys said. “Yet only a boy, as you say.

Catelyn held her brother; she dare not kill him or theImp’s life would be forfeit as well

Ned remembered the moment whenall the smiles died, when Prince Rhaegar Targaryen urged his horsepast his own wife, the Dornish princess Elia Martell, to lay thequeen of beauty’s laurel in Lyanna’s lap. He could see it still: acrown of winter roses, blue as frost.

Heremembered Jaime Lannister, a golden youth in scaled white armor,kneeling on the grass in front of the king’s pavilion and making hisvows to protect and defend King Aerys.

Catelyn would raise the north when the word

The thought of Cat was as painful as a bed of nettles.He wondered where she was, what she was doing. He wonderedwhether he would ever see her again

Yet in the end he blamed himself. “Fool,” he cried to thedarkness, “thrice-damned blind fool.”

Jorey pushed himself to his feet. Please, Sansa thought, please,please, be the king I know you are, good and kind and noble, please. “Doyou have any more to say?” he asked her.

I must be as strong as my lady mother.

Perhaps Lord Stannis will chanceto sit on it when he takes your throne.”

Surely that must have hurt themost, Sansa thought. Her heart went out to the gallant old man as hestood shamed and red-faced, too angry to speak. Finally he drew hissword.

“The Kingslayer,” Ser Barristan said, his voice hard withcontempt. “The false knight who profaned his blade with the bloodof the king he had sworn to defend.”

“And all of them dead,” Littlenger pointed out.

RickonStark

Lord Tywin Lannister did not smile. Lord Tywin never smiled, butTyrion had learned to read his father’s pleasure all the same, and itwas there on his face. “So the woling is leaving his den to playamong the lions,” he said in a voice of quiet satisfaction. “Splendid.

“They followed me home, Father,” Tyrion explained. “May I keepthem? They don’t eat much.”

Once Jaime takesRiverrun, they will both be quick enough to bend the knee. Unlessthe Starks and the Arryns come forth to oppose us, this war is goodas won.”

“Hear Me Roar,”

baring her stained red teeth in a hideoussmile.

He has taken the inn at the crossroads for his quarters.”Tyrion laughed. The inn at the crossroads! Perhaps the gods werejust after all.

The Late Lord Frey, Catelyn thought. “He is,” she admitted, “butmy father has never trusted him. Nor should you.”“I won’t,” Robb promised. “What do you think?”

She reached across his table and touched his hair. “You are myrstborn, Robb. I have only to look at you to remember the day youcame into the world, red-faced and squalling.”He rose, clearly uncomfortable with her touch,

“Mother?” he said, hisvoice thick with emotion.Catelyn wanted to run to him, to kiss his sweet brow, to wrap himin her arms and hold him so tightly that he would never come toharm ...

“Hodor?” he said sadly.“Hodor,” Bran agreed, wondering what it meant.

“He can’t be a baby forever. He’s a Stark, and near four.”

“The children could,” Bran said. “The children of the forest.”

but he’s stilljust another old black crow who ew down from the ShadowTower.

He understood about mating; he hadseen dogs in the yard, and watched a stallion mount a mare.

“Maester Luwin says there are no more giants. He says they’re alldead, like the children of the forest. All that’s left of them are oldbones in the earth that men turn up with plows from time to time.”

“They’re sad. Your lord brother will get no help from them, notwhere he’s going. The old gods have no power in the south. Theweirwoods there were all cut down, thousands of years ago. Howcan they watch your brother when they have no eyes?”

Their grandfather, old Lord Rickard, had gone as well, with hisson Brandon who was Father’s brother, and two hundred of his bestmen. None had ever returned. And Father had gone south, withArya and Sansa, and Jory and Hullen and Fat Tom and the rest, andlater Mother and Ser Rodrik had gone, and they hadn’t come back

She had gone south, andonly her bones had returned.

She lost her wolf,”

His ngers closed into ast, crushing Sansa’s letter between them. “And she says nothing ofArya, nothing, not so much as a word. Damn her! What’s wrong withthe girl?”

One wine-sodden taleteller even claimedthat Rhaegar Targaryen had returned from the dead and wasmarshaling a vast host of ancient heroes on Dragonstone to reclaimhis father’s throne

I wish ... Iwish Father was here ...”

Yet that very night, his brother came to Bran’s bedchamber paleand shaken, after the res had burned low in the Great Hall. “Ithought he was going to kill me,” Robb confessed. “Did you see theway he threw down Hal, like he was no bigger than Rickon? Gods, Iwas so scared. And the Greatjon’s not the worst of them, only theloudest. Lord Roose never says a word, he only looks at me, and all Ican think of is that room they have in the Dreadfort, where theBoltons hang the skins of their enemies.

his sword spinning on the oorthree feet away and his hand dripping blood where Grey Wind hadbitten o two ngers. “My lord father taught me that it was death tobare steel against your liege lord,” Robb said, “but doubtless youonly meant to cut my meat.” Bran’s bowels went to water as theGreatjon struggled to rise, sucking at the red stumps ofngers ... but then, astonishingly, the huge man laughed. “Yourmeat,” he roared, “is bloody tough.”

Lord Cerwyn had actually brought hisdaughter with him, a plump, homely maid of thirty years who sat ather father’s left hand and never lifted her eyes from her plate.

, “I don’t want togo. I have to.”

His baby brother had been wild as a winter storm since he learnedRobb was riding o to war, weeping and angry by turns. He’drefused to eat, cried and screamed for most of a night, even punchedOld Nan when she tried to sing him to sleep, and the next day he’dvanished. Robb had set half the castle searching for him, and whenat last they’d found him down in the crypts, Rickon had slashed atthem with a rusted iron sword he’d snatched from a dead king’shand, and Shaggydog had come slavering out of the darkness like agreen-eyed demon. The wolf was near as wild as Rickon; he’d bittenGage on the arm and torn a chunk of esh from Mikken’s thigh. Ithad taken Robb himself and Grey Wind to bring him to bay. Farlenhad the black wolf chained up in the kennels now, and Rickon criedall the more for being without him.

lease make it so Robb won’t go away,” he prayed softly. Hemoved his hand through the cold water, sending ripples across thepool. “Please make him stay. Or if he has to go, bring him homesafe, with Mother and Father and the girls. And make it ... make itso Rickon understands.”

Jon plunged his hand into the ames, grabbed a stful of the

The heat of it on his face was sweeter thanany kiss Jon had ever known

and saw Lord Mormont, naked and groggy from sleep,standing in the doorway with an oil lamp in hand.

its eyes shone with anicy blue radiance ...

, “You’re my brother now, so he’s my father too,”the fat boy said. “If you want to go out to the weirwoods and prayto the old gods, I’ll go with you.”

When he spooned an extra portion onto Jon’s plate and gavehim the crusty heel of the bread, he knew what it meant. He knows.He looked around the hall, saw heads turn quickly, eyes politelyaverted. They all know.

The girls do not even have that much, hethought. Their wolves might have kept them safe, but Lady is dead andNymeria’s lost, they’re all alone

A pity the dwarf isn’t with them. He’s the lad’s uncle, andhe saw our need when he visited us.

Lord Eddard Stark would neverdishonor himself ... would he?

“Lord Eddard has been imprisoned. He is charged with treason. Itis said he plotted with Robert’s brothers to deny the throne to PrinceJorey.”

They were as close as brothers, once.” Jon wondered if Joreywould keep his father as the King’s Hand. It did not seem likely.That might mean Lord Eddard would return to Winterfell, and hissisters as well. He might even be allowed to visit them, with LordMormont’s permission. It would be good to see Arya’s grin againand to talk with his father. I will ask him about my mother, heresolved. I am a man now, it is past time he told me. Even if she was awhore, I don’t care, I want to know.

“The gods be with you, Snow,” he called out.Something’s wrong, Jon thought. Something’s very wrong.

“It has been close on half a year since Benjen left us, my lord,”

Theystared up at the sky, blue as sapphires.

Jon put a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “We have a dozen rangers withus, and the dogs, even Ghost. No one will hurt you, Sam. Go aheadand look. The rst look is the hardest.”Sam gave a tremulous nod, working up his courage with a visibleeort. Slowly he swiveled his head. His eyes widened, but Jon held

It was not until later that night, as she was drifting o to sleep,that Sansa realized she had forgotten to ask about her sister.

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