He rose and brushed himself off. I shall require your help, Ned said when Tomard appeared, looking faintly apprehensive, as he always did when called before his lord. And something else came crashing down, bouncing and rolling, to land at her feet; a chunk of curved rock, pale and veined with gold, broken and smoking. He went sprawling again, freed from the leather embrace, a thin line of blood under his chin where the whip had cut deep.
The snows around the stump drank it eagerly, reddening as he watched. Tyrell, Redwyne, Darry, Greyjoy, they have no more love for the Usurper than I do. Her song grew louder, shriller . The day was grey, damp, overcast, the sort of day that made you wish for rain.
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