The Traitor's Escape

Chapter Seven

Despite the fact Sansa was the only one on a horse, Enger and Lenyl made excellent time hurrying out of town. They were past the last buildings before the sun had a chance to peak over the horizon. Lenyl and Enger tried to chat up Sandor and Sansa both, but only Sansa really tried to make conversation. Sandor was walking Stranger silently, brooding and looking angrier than usual. Sansa almost wanted to talk with him, try to ease out the argument from this morning so she had someone on her side. Still, when she reflected on what he'd done this morning and how he'd spoken to her, Sansa was easily able to square her shoulders and continue to talk with Lenyl without worrying about Sandor.

If he wanted to, he could easily apologize and move on. It was his choice to be angry still.

The sun was just beginning to rise into the sky and the air had started to warm by the time the small group had made it into the countryside. Sansa spotted several figures up in the hills and assumed that was where they were meeting. As if to confirm her thoughts, Lenyl pointed to them and made comment, "Them be Lord Willas' men. Lord Willas be with them to greet. Tha ride be long, may be half day or so to return to the Keep."

Sansa nodded and thanked Lenyl, but inside she was a bundle of nerves. In a brief instant, she wanted to reach out to Sandor for reassurance, but, instead, she touched the little bump showing through her dress. She could feel the light flutter in her belly that told her the child was moving about. That brought a smile to her face and eased a sliver of troubles. It never ceased to amaze her of all the differences from those weeks ago when she hadn't a clue there was a child to begin with.

Still, the figures in the distance distracted her more. She couldn't keep her eyes off of them, watching as they slowly got closer and closer to her new companions (keepers?). The urge to turn and go with Sandor, make their own way to the North, was almost overwhelming. She banished the thoughts as quickly as they came to mind; she couldn't risk offending Lady Olenna or High Garden by not accepting their hospitality. There were enough enemies in King's Landing; she certainly didn't need to create another.

The little band from High Garden had begun to ride up to them. Sansa focused on the carriage behind a wall of men. Was Lord Willas in there? Or was he one of the men riding upon the horse? There were seven knights in front of the carriage, all wearing helms and heavy armor. She wasn't able to distinguish many of their features, but she could assume none of these would be the current Lord of High Garden. Lenyl's reaction to the knights, how he bowed and offered the letter from Alyn, confirmed her suspicions.

One knight took the offered letter, confirmed the authenticity of the signature, and whistled sharply. Another man she hadn't noticed, a squire perhaps, walked over to the carriage and knocked on the door. Her breath caught in her throat in a moment of fear and she pressed one hand against her belly out of protective instinct. Sandor had shifted, so he had a better range to protect her. She couldn't stay upon the saddle now, she knew that. "Help me down," she whispered, already swinging her leg over to one side of the saddle to slip down. He glared and almost started to argue with her. But she was quick and he didn't have much choice to help her down the rest of the way. Her belly just barely got in the way trying to slide down herself.

When she focused her gaze again through the knights, Sansa saw Lord Willas for the first time. He was clearly a Tyrell. He had the same thick, curling brown hair Margaery had, though his was much shorter and neatly trimmed back, and a dusting of scruff purposely cut short. The closer he got, the more details Sansa could pick out. He had a detailed, clean tunic that looked prettily stitched and fresh breeches. He looked much younger than she knew he was and for a moment, she almost thought she'd mistaken him for someone else. But then he started to come forward and she knew it was Lord Willas; he had the obvious limp Lady Margaery had told her about.