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

by George R.R. Martin

Eight days she had lingered there before the Mountain gave the command to march, and every day she had seen someone die. The Mountain would come into the storehouse after he had broken his fast and pick one of the prisoners for questioning. The village folk would never look at him. Maybe they thought that if they did not notice him, he would not notice them … but he saw them anyway and picked whom he liked. There was no place to hide, no tricks to play, no way to be safe. One girl shared a soldier’s bed three nights running; the Mountain picked her on the fourth day, and the soldier said nothing. A smiley old man mended their clothing and babbled about his son, off serving in the gold cloaks at King’s Landing. “A king’s man, he is,” he would say, “a good king’s man like me, all for Joffrey.” He said it so often the other captives began to call him All-for-Joffrey whenever the guards weren’t listening. All-for-Joffrey was picked on the fifth day. A young mother with a pox-scarred face offered to freely tell them all she knew if they’d promise not to hurt her daughter. The Mountain heard her out; the next morning he picked her daughter, to be certain she’d held nothing back.