“Edric Storm,” Brienne told them. “Robert’s bastard son.” Edmure looked at her curiously. “Stannis has sworn that the garrison might go free, unharmed, provided they yield the castle within the fortnight and deliver the boy into his hands, but Ser Cortnay will not consent.” He risks all for a baseborn boy whose blood is not even his own, Catelyn thought. “Did you send him an answer?” Edmure shook his head. “Why, when we have neither help nor hope to offer? And Stannis is no enemy of ours.” Ser Robin Ryger spoke. “My lady, can you tell us the manner of Lord Renly’s death? The tales we’ve heard
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