Lord Tywin had sent him a groom and a body servant to see to his needs, and even insisted he take a squire. Littlefinger came calling an hour after the Grand Maester had left, clad in a plum-colored doublet with a mockingbird embroidered on the breast in black thread, and a striped cloak of black and white. Drops Of his blood had spattered the beautiful sandsilk cloak. He did more than that.
Do you take me for a fool? The magister bowed slightly. They had grown in white as snow and bristly as a thornbush while he was recovering from his wounds; he looked almost himself again. He is, she admitted, but my father has never trusted him. The man was dead on his feet, the axehead lodged in his breast, yet Shagga rode on, cleaving a shield in t
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