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"
This
morning
the
Wisdom
Munciter
told
me
that
we
had
seven
thousand
eight
hundred
and
forty
.
That
count
includes
four
thousand
jars
from
King
Aerys
’
s
day
,
to
be
sure
.
"
"
Our
overripe
fruits
?
"
Hallyne
bobbed
his
head
.
"
Wisdom
Malliard
believes
we
shall
be
able
to
provide
a
full
ten
thousand
jars
,
as
was
promised
the
queen
.
I
concur
.
"
The
pyromancer
looked
indecently
pleased
with
that
prospect
.
Assuming
our
enemies
give
you
the
time
.
The
pyromancers
kept
their
recipe
for
wildfire
a
closely
guarded
secret
,
but
Tyrion
knew
that
it
was
a
lengthy
,
dangerous
,
and
time
-
consuming
process
.
He
had
assumed
the
promise
of
ten
thousand
jars
was
a
wild
boast
,
like
that
of
the
bannerman
who
vows
to
marshal
ten
thousand
swords
for
his
lord
and
shows
up
on
the
day
of
battle
with
a
hundred
and
two
.
If
they
can
truly
give
us
ten
thousand
.
.
.
He
did
not
know
whether
he
ought
to
be
delighted
or
terrified
.
Perhaps
a
smidge
of
both
.
"
I
trust
that
your
guild
brothers
are
not
engaging
in
any
unseemly
haste
,
Wisdom
.
We
do
not
want
ten
thousand
jars
of
defective
wildfire
,
nor
even
one
.
.
.
and
we
most
certainly
do
not
want
any
mishaps
.
"
"
There
will
be
no
mishaps
,
my
lord
Hand
.
The
substance
is
prepared
by
trained
acolytes
in
a
series
of
bare
stone
cells
,
and
each
jar
is
removed
by
an
apprentice
and
carried
down
here
the
instant
it
is
ready
.
Above
each
work
cell
is
a
room
filled
entirely
with
sand
.
A
protective
spell
has
been
laid
on
the
floors
,
hmmm
,
most
powerful
.
Any
fire
in
the
cell
below
causes
the
floors
to
fall
away
,
and
the
sand
smothers
the
blaze
at
once
.
"
"
Not
to
mention
the
careless
acolyte
.
"
By
spell
Tyrion
imagined
Hallyne
meant
clever
trick
.
He
thought
he
would
like
to
inspect
one
of
these
false
-
ceilinged
cells
to
see
how
it
worked
,
but
this
was
not
the
time
.
Perhaps
when
the
war
was
won
.
"
My
brethren
are
never
careless
,
"
Hallyne
insisted
.
"
If
I
may
be
,
hmmmm
,
frank
.
.
.
"
"
Oh
,
do
.
"
