Darry, though ancient, was relatively small, situated near the junction where the Kingsroad met the Trident River in Lord Harroway's Town. As dusk approached, thin trails of smoke rose into the air—it seemed the town had already returned to life.
Yet Sansa disliked this place.
"Remember Lady?" Arya asked. "And Nymeria?"
"Quiet," Tyrion snapped.
The gates of Darry opened, and Lyonel Frey came out to greet them. His cloak was emblazoned with a quartered shield—two quadrants bearing the twin towers of House Frey, and the other two the golden lion of House Lannister.
"My lord," Lyonel trotted forward to take Tyrion's reins. "The esteemed Protector of the Riverlands."
"My cousin is too kind," Tyrion replied as he dismounted.
The central keep of Darry, called the Peasant's Keep, was plain and old. Inside the reception hall, the furnishings were simple—plank tables stacked along the walls, the beams above blackened by years of smoke.
"The Mountain's work," Lyonel explained. "In a few days, I'll summon craftsmen to repaint it. Mother insists it should be red."
It seemed his aunt had little faith in his ability to seize the Twins.
"Where are Aunt and Uncle?" Tyrion asked. "Why are you the only one here?"
"They went to Casterly Rock and haven't returned yet," Lyonel said. "The garrison here is still too small. The Brotherhood Without Banners has been raiding near the Gods Eye to the west, and mountain clans often attack east of the Green Fork, in the Mountains of the Moon."
Sansa and Arya entered the hall, followed by Greatjon and Brienne. Seeing the two knights, Lyonel stiffened nervously.
"Don't be afraid," Tyrion said, patting his cousin's shoulder. "They're both good people."
Lyonel glanced uneasily at Greatjon. "Lord Ryman is besieging Riverrun with about two thousand men."
"Two thousand men dare to besiege Riverrun?" Tyrion frowned. "Do they have the support of other Riverlands lords?"
"Yes."
Black Walder and Petyr hadn't told anyone about their humiliation in King's Landing? Tyrion mused. Most likely, old Walder Frey had swallowed his pride along with his teeth. Better to hide the shame than let it spread. The Riverlands lords must be trembling under his shadow once again.
That, however, could work to Tyrion's advantage. He could strike where they least expected.
"Merrett Frey has taken about a hundred men from the Twins to collect grain around Pinkmaiden Castle and Stoney Sept," Lyonel continued. "Petyr is doing the same in Lord Harroway's Town, less than an hour's ride from here."
"Petyr Pimple?" Tyrion asked. "How many men does he have?"
"Fifty? Sixty?" Lyonel wasn't sure. "About that many. He recruits new men every day, and just as many desert. The pockmarked fool knows nothing—he just wanders around with his camp whores."
"Petyr," Greatjon gritted his teeth. "He was at the Red Wedding. I remember—him, Merrett, and Whalen Frey tried to get me drunk. Ha! The three of them couldn't outdrink me. In the end, I bit off half of Leslyn Haigh's ear."
"In that case, it seems rest will have to wait," Tyrion said, rising to his feet. "Pod, my sword."
This time, Tyrion had his own weapon. Podrick hurried over, holding Ice—the greatsword taller than himself.
Tyrion took it and slung it across his back. "And the cloak—the new one."
Podrick produced the wolfskin cloak and handed it to him.
"Grey Wind." Sansa covered her mouth.
"You're a monster," Arya said. "What have you done to my brother's wolf?"
"Let your brother bear witness." Tyrion slipped on his cloak. Perhaps Robb Stark's spirit would inhabit Grey Wind—didn't the Starks all have direwolf spirits? It was a grim thought, as if Robb had died twice, but seeing the Freys slain by his own hand might bring him some peace.
"Lord Jon Umber, would you care to walk with me?" Tyrion tightened his sword belt. "To catch up with old friend Petyr Pimple?"
"I take no orders from you." Greatjon turned to Sansa. "Lady?"
"Won't you be in danger? Must it be tonight?" Sansa's face was full of worry. "Lady Brienne, could you go with them?"
"No need for a lady knight," Tyrion said. "The longer we delay, the better prepared the Freys will be."
"Why worry about the Lust Demon?" Arya shot her sister a look. "He's a liar, an Oathbreaker—"
"Enough, horse-face." Tyrion lost his patience. "I've heard those words until my ears are calloused. Stop tormenting me, will you?" He strode toward the gate. "I mean what I say, or I'll marry you myself, understand?"
"Who wants to marry you!" Arya snapped. "I'd rather wed a bastard!"
Lyonel followed close behind Tyrion and Greatjon, leading his cousin's horse.
"I need ten horsemen—smart, skilled men." Tyrion gave his orders. "Send scouts to the Gods Eye, flying the white seven-pointed star banner. Find the Brotherhood Without Banners. Tell them I wish to speak with Thoros of Myr."
Tyrion and Greatjon rode slowly along the River Road with ten horsemen. The sun was already sinking low.
"Why not hurry?" Greatjon asked. "At this pace, it'll take two hours."
"Perfect," Tyrion said. "We'll arrive just as night falls. Darkness breeds fear."
"If the Kingslayer rode with me, the two of us could cut down those fifty scoundrels," Greatjon said. "I must admit, your swordplay is no match for your brother's."
"One swordsman per house is enough," Tyrion replied. "One with brains, one with a sword, and one with neither—but with a pair of good balls."
"You are indeed cunning," Greatjon said. "And that's precisely why I'm willing to follow you. Perhaps you really can help me avenge my family."
"I'm not doing this to help you avenge your family." Tyrion's mockery was quiet as he looked at Greatjon. "I'm doing this for my wife, Sansa. Now that I've married her, do you think I'd stand by and watch the Riverlands fall to the Freys and the North to the Boltons?"
Greatjon stared blankly at him. "At least you're honest."
"What does honesty have to do with it? The whole realm knows why I married her. True, she's a fair maiden."
"If you dare force her—"
"Lord Umber, I will keep my promise." Tyrion's voice was steady. "Interest is stronger than promise, and promise is stronger than affection. I swore to bring them to their mother. Even if Lady Stark is dead, I will find a way. You need not worry. Just wait and see."
Faint flickers of firelight appeared ahead.
Lord Harroway's Town was within reach.
...
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