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The
unshaven
and
the
unwashed
stared
at
the
riders
with
dull
resentment
from
behind
the
line
of
spears
.
I
like
this
not
one
speck
,
Tyrion
thought
.
Bronn
had
a
score
of
sellswords
scattered
through
the
crowd
with
orders
to
stop
any
trouble
before
it
started
.
Perhaps
Cersei
had
similarly
disposed
her
Kettleblacks
.
Somehow
Tyrion
did
not
think
it
would
help
much
.
If
the
fire
was
too
hot
,
you
could
hardly
keep
the
pudding
from
scorching
by
tossing
a
handful
of
raisins
in
the
pot
.
They
crossed
Fishmonger
’
s
Square
and
rode
along
Muddy
Way
before
turning
onto
the
narrow
,
curving
Hook
to
begin
their
climb
up
Aegon
’
s
High
Hill
.
A
few
voices
raised
a
cry
of
"
Joffrey
!
All
hail
,
all
hail
!
"
as
the
young
king
rode
by
,
but
for
every
man
who
picked
up
the
shout
,
a
hundred
kept
their
silence
.
The
Lannisters
moved
through
a
sea
of
ragged
men
and
hungry
women
,
breasting
a
tide
of
sullen
eyes
.
Just
ahead
of
him
,
Cersei
was
laughing
at
something
Lancel
had
said
,
though
he
suspected
her
merriment
was
feigned
.
She
could
not
be
oblivious
to
the
unrest
around
them
,
but
his
sister
always
believed
in
putting
on
the
brave
show
.
Halfway
along
the
route
,
a
wailing
woman
forced
her
way
between
two
watchmen
and
ran
out
into
the
street
in
front
of
the
king
and
his
companions
,
holding
the
corpse
of
her
dead
baby
above
her
head
.
It
was
blue
and
swollen
,
grotesque
,
but
the
real
horror
was
the
mother
’
s
eyes
.
Joffrey
looked
for
a
moment
as
if
he
meant
to
ride
her
down
,
but
Sansa
Stark
leaned
over
and
said
something
to
him
.
The
king
fumbled
in
his
purse
,
and
flung
the
woman
a
silver
stag
.
The
coin
bounced
off
the
child
and
rolled
away
,
under
the
legs
of
the
gold
cloaks
and
into
the
crowd
,
where
a
dozen
men
began
to
fight
for
it
.
The
mother
never
once
blinked
.
Her
skinny
arms
were
trembling
from
the
dead
weight
of
her
son
.
"
Leave
her
,
Your
Grace
,
"
Cersei
called
out
to
the
king
,
"
she
’
s
beyond
our
help
,
poor
thing
.
"
The
mother
heard
her
.
Somehow
the
queen
’
s
voice
cut
through
the
woman
’
s
ravaged
wits
.
Her
slack
face
twisted
in
loathing
.
"
Whore
!
"
she
shrieked
.
"
Kingslayer
’
s
whore
!
Brotherfucker
!
"
Her
dead
child
dropped
from
her
arms
like
a
sack
of
flour
as
she
pointed
at
Cersei
.
"
Brotherfucker
brotherfucker
brotherfucker
.
"
Tyrion
never
saw
who
threw
the
dung
.
He
only
heard
Sansa
’
s
gasp
and
Joffrey
’
s
bellowed
curse
,
and
when
he
turned
his
head
,
the
king
was
wiping
brown
filth
from
his
cheek
.
There
was
more
caked
in
his
golden
hair
and
spattered
over
Sansa
’
s
legs
.
"
Who
threw
that
?
"
Joffrey
screamed
.
He
pushed
his
fingers
into
his
hair
,
made
a
furious
face
,
and
flung
away
another
handful
of
dung
.
"
I
want
the
man
who
threw
that
!
"
he
shouted
.
"
A
hundred
golden
dragons
to
the
man
who
gives
him
up
.
"
"
He
was
up
there
!
"
someone
shouted
from
the
crowd
.
The
king
wheeled
his
horse
in
a
circle
to
survey
the
rooftops
and
open
balconies
above
them
.
In
the
crowd
people
were
pointing
,
shoving
,
cursing
one
another
and
the
king
.
"
Please
,
Your
Grace
,
let
him
go
,
"
Sansa
pleaded
.
