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"
See
that
they
lose
.
"
"
What
do
we
do
with
those
that
live
here
?
"
"
Let
them
have
a
reasonable
time
to
remove
their
property
,
and
then
move
them
out
.
Try
not
to
kill
any
of
them
,
they
’
re
not
the
enemy
.
And
no
more
rapes
!
Keep
your
men
in
line
,
damn
it
.
"
"
They
’
re
sellswords
,
not
septons
,
"
said
Bronn
.
"
Next
you
’
ll
be
telling
me
you
want
them
sober
.
"
"
It
couldn
’
t
hurt
.
"
Tyrion
only
wished
he
could
as
easily
make
city
walls
twice
as
tall
and
three
times
as
thick
.
Though
perhaps
it
did
not
matter
.
Massive
walls
and
tall
towers
had
not
saved
Storm
’
s
End
,
nor
Harrenhal
,
nor
even
Winterfell
.
He
remembered
Winterfell
as
he
had
last
seen
it
.
Not
as
grotesquely
huge
as
Harrenhal
,
nor
as
solid
and
impregnable
to
look
at
as
Storm
’
s
End
,
yet
there
had
been
a
great
strength
in
those
stones
,
a
sense
that
within
those
walls
a
man
might
feel
safe
.
The
news
of
the
castle
’
s
fall
had
come
as
a
wrenching
shock
.
"
The
gods
give
with
one
hand
and
take
with
the
other
,
"
he
muttered
under
his
breath
when
Varys
told
him
.
They
had
given
the
Starks
Harrenhal
and
taken
Winterfell
,
a
dismal
exchange
.
No
doubt
he
should
be
rejoicing
.
Robb
Stark
would
have
to
turn
north
now
.
If
he
could
not
defend
his
own
home
and
hearth
,
he
was
no
sort
of
king
at
all
.
It
meant
reprieve
for
the
west
,
for
House
Lannister
,
and
yet
.
.
.
Tyrion
had
only
the
vaguest
memory
of
Theon
Greyjoy
from
his
time
with
the
Starks
.
A
callow
youth
,
always
smiling
,
skilled
with
a
bow
;
it
was
hard
to
imagine
him
as
Lord
of
Winterfell
.
The
Lord
of
Winterfell
would
always
be
a
Stark
.
