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"
The
stables
and
barracks
are
in
there
,
"
Mya
said
.
"
The
last
part
is
inside
the
mountain
.
It
can
be
a
little
dark
,
but
at
least
you
're
out
of
the
wind
.
This
is
as
far
as
the
mules
can
go
.
Past
here
,
well
,
it
's
a
sort
of
chimney
,
more
like
a
stone
ladder
than
proper
steps
,
but
it
's
not
too
bad
.
Another
hour
and
we
'll
be
there
.
"
Catelyn
looked
up
.
Directly
overhead
,
pale
in
the
dawn
light
,
she
could
see
the
foundations
of
the
Eyrie
.
It
could
not
be
more
than
six
hundred
feet
above
them
.
From
below
it
looked
like
a
small
white
honeycomb
.
She
remembered
what
her
uncle
had
said
of
baskets
and
winches
.
"
The
Lannisters
may
have
their
pride
,
"
she
told
Mya
,
"
but
the
Tullys
are
born
with
better
sense
.
I
have
ridden
all
day
and
the
best
part
of
a
night
.
Tell
them
to
lower
a
basket
.
I
shall
ride
with
the
turnips
.
"
The
sun
was
well
above
the
mountains
by
the
time
Catelyn
Stark
finally
reached
the
Eyrie
.
A
stocky
,
silver-haired
man
in
a
sky-blue
cloak
and
hammered
moon-and-falcon
breastplate
helped
her
from
the
basket
;
Ser
Vardis
Egen
,
captain
of
Jon
Arryn
's
household
guard
.
Beside
him
stood
Maester
Colemon
,
thin
and
nervous
,
with
too
little
hair
and
too
much
neck
.
"
Lady
Stark
,
"
Ser
Vardis
said
,
"
the
pleasure
is
as
great
as
it
is
unanticipated
.
"
Maester
Colemon
bobbed
his
head
in
agreement
.
"
Indeed
it
is
,
my
lady
,
indeed
it
is
.
I
have
sent
word
to
your
sister
.
She
left
orders
to
be
awakened
the
instant
you
arrived
.
"
"
I
hope
she
had
a
good
night
's
rest
,
"
Catelyn
said
with
a
certain
bite
in
her
tone
that
seemed
to
go
unnoticed
.
The
men
escorted
her
from
the
winch
room
up
a
spiral
stair
.
The
Eyrie
was
a
small
castle
by
the
standards
of
the
great
houses
;
seven
slender
white
towers
bunched
as
tightly
as
arrows
in
a
quiver
on
a
shoulder
of
the
great
mountain
.
It
had
no
need
of
stables
nor
smithys
nor
kennels
,
but
Ned
said
its
granary
was
as
large
as
Winterfell
's
,
and
its
towers
could
house
five
hundred
men
.
Yet
it
seemed
strangely
deserted
to
Catelyn
as
she
passed
through
it
,
its
pale
stone
halls
echoing
and
empty
.
Lysa
was
waiting
alone
in
her
solar
,
still
clad
in
her
bed
robes
.
Her
long
auburn
hair
tumbled
unbound
across
bare
white
shoulders
and
down
her
back
.
A
maid
stood
behind
her
,
brushing
out
the
night
's
tangles
,
but
when
Catelyn
entered
,
her
sister
rose
to
her
feet
,
smiling
.
"
Cat
,
"
she
said
.
"
Oh
,
Cat
,
how
good
it
is
to
see
you
.
My
sweet
sister
.
"
She
ran
across
the
chamber
and
wrapped
her
sister
in
her
arms
.
"
How
long
it
has
been
,
"
Lysa
murmured
against
her
.
"
Oh
,
how
very
very
long
.
"
It
had
been
five
years
,
in
truth
;
five
cruel
years
,
for
Lysa
.
They
had
taken
their
toll
.
Her
sister
was
two
years
the
younger
,
yet
she
looked
older
now
.
Shorter
than
Catelyn
,
Lysa
had
grown
thick
of
body
,
pale
and
puffy
of
face
.
She
had
the
blue
eyes
of
the
Tullys
,
but
hers
were
pale
and
watery
,
never
still
.
Her
small
mouth
had
turned
petulant
.
As
Catelyn
held
her
,
she
remembered
the
slender
,
high-breasted
girl
who
'd
waited
beside
her
that
day
in
the
sept
at
Riverrun
.
How
lovely
and
full
of
hope
she
had
been
.
All
that
remained
of
her
sister
's
beauty
was
the
great
fall
of
thick
auburn
hair
that
cascaded
to
her
waist
.
"
You
look
well
,
"
Catelyn
lied
,
"
but
...
tired
.
"
Her
sister
broke
the
embrace
.
"
Tired
.
Yes
.
Oh
,
yes
.
"
She
seemed
to
notice
the
others
then
;
her
maid
,
Maester
Colemon
,
Ser
Vardis
.
"
Leave
us
,
"
she
told
them
.
"
I
wish
to
speak
to
my
sister
alone
.
"
She
held
Catelyn
's
hand
as
they
withdrew
...
