He was quicker, Catelyn saw; the knight's silvered sword never came near to touching him, but his own ugly grey blade hacked a notch from Ser Vardis's shoulder plate. When he whistled, the raven hopped onto his bandaged forearm. He will never take us home. I hate her! she screamed.
I take you for a king. Men like Jon Arryn. Lord Tywin would do no such thing, of course, but Tyrion would make up for it if he won free. Open the Moon Door.
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