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"He's robbing you blind, wench," Jaime said amiably.
"I'll want provisions too," Brie
"There's more oatcakes." The man scooped the other two dragons from her palm and jingled them in his fist, smiling at the sound they
made. "Aye, and smoked salt fish, but that will cost you silver. My beds will be costing as well. You'll be wanting to stay the night."
"No," Brie
The man frowned at her. "Woman, you don't want to go riding at night through strange country on horses you don't know. You're like to blunder into some bog or break your horse's leg."
"The moon will be bright tonight," Brie
Their host chewed on that. "If you don't have the silver, might be some coppers would buy you them beds, and a coverlet or two to keep you warm. It's not like I'm turning travelers away, if you get my meaning."
"That sounds more than fair," said Ser Cleos.
"The coverlets is fresh washed, too. My wife saw to that before she had to go off. Not a flea to be found neither, you have my word on that." He jingled the coins again, smiling.
Ser Cleos was plainly tempted. "A proper bed would do us all good, my lady," he said to Brie
"No, coz, the wench is right. We have promises to keep, and long leagues before us. We ought ride on."
"But," said Cleos, "you said yourself —
"Then." When I thought the i
Brie
"Show me," Brie
"Yes," said Jaime, "and the sooner the better. There's far too much horse shit about here for my taste. I would hate to step in it." He gave the wench a sharp look, wondering if she was bright enough to take his meaning.
He hoped she might strike the irons off his wrists as well, but Brie
"Six miles downriver you'll see a burned village," their host said as he was helping them saddle the horses and load their packs. This time he directed his counsel at Brie
shu
"We shall," she answered. "You have my thanks."
More to the point, he has your gold. Jaime kept the thought to himself. He was tired of being disregarded by this huge ugly cow of a woman.
She took the plow horse for herself and assigned the palfrey to Ser Cleos. As threatened, Jaime drew the one-eyed gelding, which put an end to any thoughts he might have had of giving his horse a kick and leaving the wench in his dust.
The man and the boy came out to watch them leave. The man wished them luck and told them to come back in better times, while the lad stood silent, his crossbow under his arm. "Take up the spear or maul," Jaime told him, "they'll serve you better." The boy stared at him distrustfully. So much for friendly advice. He shrugged, turned his horse, and never looked back.
Ser Cleos was all complaints as they rode out, still in mouming for his lost featherbed. They rode east, along the bank of the moonlit river. The Red Fork was very broad here, but shallow, its banks all mud and reeds. Jaime's mount plodded along placidly, though the poor old thing had a tendency to want to drift off to the side of his good eye. It felt good to be mounted once more. He had not been on a horse since Robb Stark's archers had killed his destrier under him in the Whispering Wood.
When they reached the burned village, a choice of equally unpromising roads confronted them; narrow tracks, deeply rutted by the carts of farmers hauling their grain to the river. One wandered off toward the southeast and soon vanished amidst the trees they could see in the distance, while the other, straighter and stonier, arrowed due south. Brie
"But this is the road the i
"He was no i
"Clever wench." Jaime smiled at his cousin. "Our host has friends down that road, I would venture. The ones whose mounts gave that stable such a memorable aroma."
"He may have been lying about the river as well, to put us on these horses," the wench said, "but I could not take the risk. There will be soldiers at the ruby ford and the crossroads."
Well, she may be ugly but she's not entirely stupid. Jaime gave her a grudging smile.
The ruddy light from the upper windows of the stone towerhouse gave them warning of its presence a long way off, and Brie
Half the night passed before the wench allowed that it might be safe to stop. By then all three of them were drooping in their saddles. They sheltered in a small grove of oak and ash beside a sluggish stream. The wench would allow no fire, so they shared a midnight supper of stale oatcakes and salt fish. The night was strangely peaceful. The half-moon sat overhead in a black felt sky, surrounded by stars. Off in the distance, some wolves were howling. One of their horses whickered nervously. There was no other sound. The war has not touched this place, Jaime thought. He was glad to be here, glad to be alive, glad to be on his way back to Cersei.
"I'll take the first watch," Brie
Jaime sat against the bole of an oak and wondered what Cersei and Tyrion were doing just now. "Do you have any siblings, my lady? " he asked.
Brie
Jaime chuckled. "Son, you meant to say. Does he think of you as a son? You make a queer sort of daughter, to be sure."
Wordless, she turned away from him, her knuckles tight on her sword hilt. What a wretched creature this one is. She reminded him of Tyrion in some queer way, though at first blush two people could scarcely be any more dissimilar. Perhaps it was that thought of his brother that made him say, "I did not intend to'give offense, Brie
"Your crimes are past forgiving, Kingslayer."
"That name again." Jaime twisted idly at his chains. "Why do I enrage you so? I've never done you harm that I know of."
"You've harmed others. Those you were sworn to protect. The weak, the i
". . . the king?" It always came back to Aerys. "Don't presume to judge what you do not understand, wench."
"My name is — "
" — Brie
"You will not provoke me to anger, Kingslayer."
"Oh, I might, if I cared enough to try."