“A voice from nowhere,” Sandor said. He peered through his helm, looking this way and that. “Spirits of the air!” The prince laughed, as he always laughed when his bodyguard did this mummer’s farce. Tyrion was used to it. “Down here.” The tall man peered down at the ground, and pretended to notice him. “The little lord Tyrion,” he said. “My pardons. I did not see you standing there.”
