A Clash of Kings (A Song of Ice and Fire, #2)

by George R.R. Martin

She waited until evening before going to pay her call upon Ser Cleos Frey, reasoning that the longer she delayed, the drunker he was likely to be. As she entered the tower cell, Ser Cleos stumbled to his knees. “My lady, I knew naught of any escape. The Imp said a Lannister must needs have a Lannister escort, on my oath as a knight—” “Arise, ser.” Catelyn seated herself. “I know no grandson of Walder Frey would be an oathbreaker.” Unless it served his purpose. “You brought peace terms, my brother said.” “I did.” Ser Cleos lurched to his feet. She was pleased to see how unsteady he was. “Tell me,” she commanded, and he did. When he was done, Catelyn sat frowning. Edmure had been right, these were no terms at all, except … “Lannister will exchange Arya and Sansa for his brother?” “Yes. He sat on the Iron Throne and swore it.” “Before witnesses?” “Before all the court, my lady. And the gods as well. I said as much to Ser Edmure, but he told me it was not possible, that His Grace Robb would never consent.” “He told you true.” She could not even say that Robb was wrong. Arya and Sansa were children. The Kingslayer, alive and free, was as dangerous as any man in the realm. That road led nowhere. “Did you see my girls? Are they treated well?” Ser Cleos hesitated. “I … yes, they seemed …” He is fumbling for a lie, Catelyn realized, but the wine has fuddled his wits. “Ser Cleos,” she said coolly, “you forfeited the protection of your peace banner when your men played us false. Lie ...

to me, and you’ll hang from the walls beside them. Believe that. I shall ask you once more—did you see my daughters?” His brow was damp with sweat. “I saw Sansa at the court, the day Tyrion told me his terms. She looked most beautiful, my lady. Perhaps a, a bit wan. Drawn, as it were.” Sansa, but not Arya. That might mean anything. Arya had always been harder to tame. Perhaps Cersei was reluctant to parade her in open court for fear of what she might say or do. They might have her locked safely out of sight. Or they might have killed her. Catelyn shoved the thought away. “His terms, you said … yet Cersei is Queen Regent.” “Tyrion spoke for both of them. The queen was not there. She was indisposed that day, I was told.” “Curious.” Catelyn thought back to that terrible trek through the Mountains of the Moon, and the way Tyrion Lannister had somehow seduced that sellsword from her service to his own. The dwarf is too clever by half. She could not imagine how he had survived the high road after Lysa had sent him from the Vale, yet it did not surprise her. He had no part in Ned’s murder, at the least. And he came to my defense when the clansmen attacked us. If I could trust his word …