GOT 3
JAIME
T
he fields outside the walls of Darry were being tilled once more.
The burned crops had been plowed under, and Ser Addam's
scouts reported seeing women in the furrows pulling weeds,
whilst a team of oxen broke new ground on the edge of a nearby wood. A
dozen bearded men with axes stood guard over them as they worked.
By the time Jaime and his column reached the castle, all of them had
fled within the walls. He found Darry closed to him, just as Harrenhal
had been. A chilly welcome from mine own blood.
"Sound the horn," he commanded. Ser Kennos of Kayce unslung the
Horn of Herrock and let it wind. As he waited for a response from the castle, Jaime eyed the banner floating brown and crimson above his cousin's
barbican. Lancel had taken to quartering the lion of Lannister with the
Darry plowman, it would seem. He saw his uncle's hand in that, as in
Lancel's choice of bride. House Darry had ruled these lands since the
Andals cast down the First Men. No doubt Ser Kevan realized that his
son would have an easier time of it if the peasants saw him as a continuation of the old line, holding these lands by right of marriage rather than
royal decree. Kevan should be Tommen's Hand. Harys Swyft is a toad, and
my sister is a fool if she thinks elsewise.
The castle gates swung open slowly. "My coz will not have room to accommodate a thousand men," Jaime told Strongboar. "We'll make camp
446 GEORGE R. R. MARTIN
beneath the western wall. I want the perimeters ditched and staked.
There are still bands of outlaws in these parts."
"They'd need to be mad to attack a force as strong as ours."
"Mad or starving." Until he had a better notion of these outlaws and
their strength, Jaime was not inclined to take any risks with his defenses.
"Ditched and staked," he said again, before spurring Honor toward the
gate. Ser Dermot rode beside him with the royal stag and lion, and Ser
Hugo Vance with the white standard of the Kingsguard. Jaime had
charged Red Ronnet with the task of delivering Wylis Manderly to Maidenpool, so he would not need to look on him henceforth.
Pia rode with Jaime's squires, on the gelding Peck had found for her.
"It's like some toy castle," Jaime heard her say. She's known no home but
Harrenhal, he reflected. Every castle in the realm will seem small to her,
except the Rock.
Josmyn Peckleton was saying the same thing. "You must not judge by
Harrenhal. Black Harren built too big." Pia listened as solemnly as a girl
of five being lessoned by her septa. That's all she is, a little girl in a
woman's body, scarred and scared. Peck was taken with her, though. Jaime