The victor was the red priest, Thoros of Myr, a madman who shaved his head and fought with a flaming sword. Gods, Robb swore, his young face dark with anger. Steel was steel; it was meant for protection, not ornament. And if you die? Why then, I'll have one mourner whose grief is sincere, Tyrion said, grinning.
He was the oldest of Drogo's three bloodriders, a squat bald man with a crooked nose and a mouth full of broken teeth, shattere In the songs, they were called the black knights of the Wall. until the day she was brought before him in King's Landing. Do you think Lord Tywin will sit idly while his daughter's head is measured for a spike? Casterly Rock will rise, and not alone.
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