A Game of Thrones (A Song of Ice and Fire, #1)

by George R.R. Martin

“The Watch has need of every man it can get,” Donal Noye said when they were alone. “Even men like Toad. You won’t win any honors killing him.” Jon’s anger flared. “He said my mother was—” “—a whore. I heard him. What of it?” “Lord Eddard Stark was not a man to sleep with whores,” Jon said icily. “His honor—” “—did not prevent him from fathering a bastard. Did it?” Jon was cold with rage. “Can I go?” “You go when I tell you to go.” Jon stared sullenly at the smoke rising from the brazier, until Noye took him under the chin, thick fingers twisting his head around. “Look at me when I’m talking to you, boy.” Jon looked. The armorer had a chest like a keg of ale and a gut to match. His nose was flat and broad, and he always seemed in need of a shave. The left sleeve of his black wool tunic was fastened at the shoulder with a silver pin in the shape of a longsword. “Words won’t make your mother a whore. She was what she was, and nothing Toad says can change that. You know, we have men on the Wall whose mothers were whores.”