“Sansa,” Lady Alerie broke in, “you must be very hungry. Shall we have a bite of boar

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“You saw it, sire?” It was not like Stannis Baratheon to lie about such a thing.

nipple to ankle. Sometimes he made Chett help pull the leeches off. One had attached

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Kraznys turned back to his fellows. once again they conferred among themselves. The

plea. Ser Ryman buried the head of his axe in Dacey’s stomach. By then men were

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The stable was behind him. Spectators screamed and shoved at each other to get out

an awful music, yet still his archers drew and loosed, as if they’d all gone as deaf as dead

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stared at him distrustfully. So much for friendly advice. He shrugged, turned his horse,

“While all I did was get my nosehairs trimmed, is that it?” Tyrion could not keep the

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fireside with his woodharp in hand. “The same song as before?” he asked.