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“Why,” Ser Creighton said, affronted, “I am the famous Ser Creighton Longbough, fresh from battle on the Blackwater, and this is my companion, Ser Illifer the Pe
“We mean you no harm,” said Brie
The merchant considered her doubtfully. “My lady, you should be safe at home. Why do you wear such u
“I am searching for my sister.” She dared not mention Sansa’s name, with her accused of regicide. “She is a highborn maid and beautiful, with blue eyes and auburn hair. Perhaps you saw her with a portly knight of forty years, or a drunken fool.”
“The roads are full of drunken fools and despoiled maidens. As to portly knights, it is hard for any honest man to keep his belly round when so many lack for food. though your Ser Creighton has not hungered, it would seem.”
“I have big bones,” Ser Creighton insisted. “Shall we ride together for a time? I do not doubt Ser Shadrich’s valor, but he seems small, and three blades are better than one.”
Four blades, thought Brie
The merchant looked to his escort. “What say you, ser?”
“Oh, these three are nought to fear.” Ser Shadrich was a wiry, fox-faced man with a sharp nose and a shock of orange hair, mounted on a rangy chestnut courser. Though he could not have been more than five foot two, he had a cocksure ma
“As you say.” The merchant lowered his crossbow.
As they resumed their journey, the hired knight dropped back and looked her up and down as if she were a side of good salt pork. “You’re a strapping healthy wench, I’d say.”
Ser Jaime’s mockery had cut her deep; the little man’s words hardly touched her. “A giant, compared to some.”
He laughed. “I am big enough where it counts, wench.”
“The merchant called you Shadrich.”
“Ser Shadrich of the Shady Glen. Some call me the Mad Mouse.” He turned his shield to show her his sigil, a large white mouse with fierce red eyes, on bendy brown and blue. “The brown is for the lands I’ve roamed, the blue for the rivers that I’ve crossed. The mouse is me.”
“And are you mad?”
“Oh, quite. Your common mouse will run from blood and battle. The mad mouse seeks them out.”
“It would seem he seldom finds them.”
“I find enough. ’Tis true, I am no tourney knight. I save my valor for the battlefield, woman.”
Woman was marginally better than wench, she supposed. “You and good Ser Creighton have much in common, then.”
Ser Shadrich laughed. “Oh, I doubt that, but it may be that you and I share a quest. A little lost sister, is it? With blue eyes and auburn hair?” He laughed again. “You are not the only hunter in the woods. I seek for Sansa Stark as well.”
Brie
“For love, why else?”
She furrowed her brow. “Love?”
“Aye, love of gold. Unlike your good Ser Creighton, I did fight upon the Blackwater, but on the losing side. My ransom ruined me. You know who Varys is, I trust? The eunuch has offered a plump bag of gold for this girl you’ve never heard of. I am not a greedy man. If some oversized wench would help me find this naughty child, I would split the Spider’s coin with her.”
“I thought you were in this merchant’s hire.”
“Only so far as Duskendale. Hibald is as niggardly as he is fearful. And he is very fearful. What say you, wench?”
“I know no Sansa Stark,” she insisted. “I am searching for my sister, a highborn girl. ”
“. with blue eyes and auburn hair, aye. Pray, who is this knight who travels with your sister? Or did you name him fool?” Ser Shadrich did not wait for her answer, which was good, since she had none. “A certain fool vanished from King’s Landing the night King Joffrey died, a stout fellow with a nose full of broken veins, one Ser Dontos the Red, formerly of Duskendale. I pray your sister and her drunken fool are not mistaken for the Stark girl and Ser Dontos. That could be most unfortunate.” He put his heels into his courser and trotted on ahead.
Even Jaime La
She hunched her shoulders down and rode on, frowning.
Night was gathering by the time their party came upon the i
“Not us, unless your friend is giving them away,” said Ser Illifer the Pe
“I can pay for the three of us.” Brie
Hibald was for stopping too, and bid his men to leave the wagon near the stables. Warm yellow light shone through the diamond-shaped panes of the i
“I am no ser, ” she told him, “but you may take the horse. See that she is fed and brushed and watered.”
The boy reddened. “Beg pardons, m’lady. I thought. ”
“It is a common mistake.” Brie
Sawdust covered the plank floor of the common room, and the air smelled of hops and smoke and meat. A roast was spitting and crackling over the fire, unattended for the moment. Six locals sat about a table, talking, but they broke off when the strangers entered. Brie
The i
“Do you have rooms, good man?” the merchant asked him.
“I might,” the i
Ser Creighton Longbough looked offended. “Naggle, is that how you would greet an old friend? ’Tis me, Longbough.”
“’Tis you indeed. You owe me seven stags. Show me some silver and I’ll show you a bed.” The i
“I will pay for one room for myself, and a second for my two companions.” Brie
“I shall take a room as well,” said the merchant, “for myself and good Ser Shadrich. My serving men will bed down in your stables, if it please you.”
The i
“I shall judge its goodness for myself,” Hibald a