214 GEORGE R. Tyrion saw an arrow sprout from the throat of the man in the shadowskin cloak. Robb's curses rang through the yard. The leather parted with a sigh.
They don't like that. The joy Bran had felt at the ride was gone, melted away like the snowflakes on his face. The more fiercely the man burned in life, the brighter his star will shine in the darkness. I've promised the City Watch twenty of my guard until the tourney is done, he told him.
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