Their leader smiled at the dagger in her hand and said, “No need for that, m’lady. We’re to escort you to the castle.” “By whose authority?” she said. He showed her a ribbon. Catelyn felt her breath catch in her throat. The seal was a mockingbird, in grey wax. “Petyr,” she said. So soon. Something must have happened to Ser Rodrik. She looked at the head guardsman. “Do you know who I am?” “No, m’lady,” he said. “M’lord Littlefinger said only to bring you to him, and see that you were not mistreated.”
