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The
Bloody
Mummers
began
to
dismount
.
Stableboys
emerged
sleepy
from
their
straw
to
tend
their
lathered
horses
.
One
of
the
riders
was
shouting
for
ale
.
The
noise
brought
Ser
Amory
Lorch
out
onto
the
covered
gallery
above
the
ward
,
flanked
by
two
torchbearers
.
Goat
-
helmed
Vargo
Hoat
reined
up
below
him
.
"
My
lord
cathellan
,
"
the
sellsword
said
.
He
had
a
thick
,
slobbery
voice
,
as
if
his
tongue
was
too
big
for
his
mouth
.
"
What
’
s
all
this
,
Hoat
?
"
Ser
Amory
demanded
,
frowning
.
"
Captiths
.
Rooth
Bolton
thought
to
croth
the
river
,
but
my
Brafe
Companions
cut
his
van
to
pieceth
.
Killed
many
,
and
thent
Bolton
running
.
Thith
ith
their
lord
commander
,
Glover
,
and
the
one
behind
ith
Ther
Aenyth
Frey
.
"
Ser
Amory
Lorch
stared
down
at
the
roped
captives
with
his
little
pig
eyes
.
Arya
did
not
think
he
was
pleased
.
Everyone
in
the
castle
knew
that
he
and
Vargo
Hoat
hated
each
other
.
"
Very
well
,
"
he
said
.
"
Ser
Cadwyn
,
take
these
men
to
the
dungeons
.
"
The
lord
with
the
mailed
fist
on
his
surcoat
raised
his
eyes
.
"
We
were
promised
honorable
treatment
—
"
he
began
.
"
Silenth
!
"
Vargo
Hoat
screamed
at
him
,
spraying
spittle
.
Ser
Amory
addressed
the
captives
.
"
What
Hoat
promised
you
is
nothing
to
me
.
Lord
Tywin
made
me
the
castellan
of
Harrenhal
,
and
I
shall
do
with
you
as
I
please
.
"
He
gestured
to
his
guards
.
"
The
great
cell
under
the
Widow
’
s
Tower
ought
to
hold
them
all
.
Any
who
do
not
care
to
go
are
free
to
die
here
.
"
As
his
men
herded
off
the
captives
at
spear
-
point
,
Arya
saw
Pinkeye
emerge
from
the
stairwell
,
blinking
at
the
torchlight
.
If
he
found
her
missing
,
he
would
shout
and
threaten
to
whip
the
bloody
hide
off
her
,
but
she
was
not
afraid
.
He
was
no
Weese
.
He
was
forever
threatening
to
whip
the
bloody
hide
off
this
one
or
that
one
,
but
Arya
never
actually
knew
him
to
hit
.
Still
,
it
would
be
better
if
he
never
saw
her
.
She
glanced
around
.
The
oxen
were
being
unharnessed
,
the
carts
unloaded
,
while
the
Brave
Companions
clamored
for
drink
and
the
curious
gathered
around
the
caged
bear
.
In
the
commotion
,
it
was
not
hard
to
slip
off
unseen
.
She
went
back
the
way
she
had
come
,
wanting
to
be
out
of
sight
before
someone
noticed
her
and
thought
to
put
her
to
work
.
Away
from
the
gates
and
the
stables
,
the
great
castle
was
largely
deserted
.
The
noise
dwindled
behind
her
.
A
swirling
wind
gusted
,
drawing
a
high
shivery
scream
from
the
cracks
in
the
Wailing
Tower
.
Leaves
had
begun
to
fall
from
the
trees
in
the
godswood
,
and
she
could
hear
them
moving
through
the
deserted
courtyards
and
between
the
empty
buildings
,
making
a
faint
skittery
sound
as
the
wind
drove
them
across
the
stones
.
Now
that
Harrenhal
was
near
empty
once
again
,
sound
did
queer
things
here
.
Sometimes
the
stones
seemed
to
drink
up
noise
,
shrouding
the
yards
in
a
blanket
of
silence
.
Other
times
,
the
echoes
had
a
life
of
their
own
,
so
every
footfall
became
the
tread
of
a
ghostly
army
,
and
every
distant
voice
a
ghostly
feast
.
The
funny
sounds
were
one
of
the
things
that
bothered
Hot
Pie
,
but
not
Arya
.
