"Jaime Lannister, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, the Kingslayer, big bro." Tyrion stared at him in disbelief. "Why did you leave King's Landing? What wind blew you all the way here?"
"My dear Lust Demon. Wherever there are Lannisters, it's hardly strange for me to appear."
Jaime swung down from his horse, and the brothers embraced warmly.
"Podrick's message brought you here?" Tyrion asked.
Jaime nodded. The others had gathered around them, and Yohn Royce made no effort to hide the disgust on his face.
The Kingslayer. The oathbreaker.
"See that?" Tyrion kicked Lyn Corbray's head aside and bent to pick up Lady Forlorn. "So much for the Vale's finest swordsman. My brother is the strongest in the Seven Kingdoms. Lord Yohn, I'll leave Ser Lyn's head to you. Fair enough? I intend to have a proper drink with my brother."
"And the sword?" Bronze asked, pointing at Lady Forlorn.
"The lady belongs to the victor." Tyrion lifted the blade slightly. "Those rubies suit Lannister red quite well. Don't worry, Lord Royce. I'm not claiming it. I'll just keep it for a few days."
"Tyrion!" Blackfish looked as though he still had something to say, but Tyrion raised a hand and cut him off.
"Ser Brynden, we'll hold council tonight. Before that, I'd like some time with my brother."
The two Lannisters made their way through the camp, drawing murmurs wherever they passed. News of Lyn Corbray's death had already spread, and speculation ran rampant about who had done it. When people finally saw the "killer," their shock dulled into something closer to grim acceptance.
It was the Kingslayer.
Tyrion ignored the fear, jealousy, and open loathing in their stares and led Jaime straight back to his tent.
"Sansa?" he called. "Are you up? Look who's here."
His wife lifted the flap for them, and the two Lannisters stepped inside.
"My dear sister-in-law." Jaime took Sansa's hand and kissed the back of it. "You've grown more beautiful than our elder sister."
"Thank you, Ser." Sansa dipped into a curtsy, then glanced at her husband. Tyrion gave her a quick look.
"My lord, Ser Jaime," Sansa said. "I have matters to attend to with Arya. Please excuse me for a moment."
With that, she slipped out of the tent.
"If Cersei had even half her tact, I wouldn't be in such a mess," Jaime said as he dropped heavily into a chair and let out a long sigh. "How are things on your end?"
"Fine. Though I didn't send Pod to fetch you as help." Tyrion shot Podrick a sharp look. The earnest boy flushed red at once, stammering.
"I didn't—"
"Don't be too hard on him," Jaime said, unfastening his cloak. "I came on my own. You know Cersei never lets me see my letters, and I didn't trust them being sent deeper into the Vale. Gulltown, at least, isn't too far from King's Landing. Boy, help me out of this armor."
He beckoned to Podrick.
"The Bloody Gate is impassable now," Tyrion said. "Gulltown is the only way in or out of the Vale. By the gods, securing Gulltown was the smartest move we've made in this war."
"You should be focusing on more important matters," Jaime said. "If it weren't for all this fighting, you'd be giving me a nephew by now."
"My important matter is sleeping in after a hard day's fighting," Tyrion replied. "Too bad you had to interrupt."
"I never meant to disturb your rest." Jaime leaned back, one leg propped on the table. A deep nick marked his greave. "But when Edric, your silver-haired attendant, told me the Vale's finest swordsman was shouting outside the Gates of the Moon about letting his lady taste lion's blood, I couldn't help myself."
Podrick knelt and helped remove the greaves. There was no blood beneath them. The skin hadn't even been broken.
"Hah! Lyn Corbray looked at me as if he'd seen an Others," Jaime said with a booming laugh. "Terrified, but doing his best not to show it. 'I want a Lust Demon, not the Kingslayer!' he shouted, but his hands never stopped. He still drew that sword."
He pointed at Lady Forlorn resting nearby.
"Edric handed me Ice. Twice as long as his lady."
"Lannisters never use short ones," Tyrion said dryly, gesturing downward.
"Exactly." Jaime grinned. "I asked him, 'Are you Lyn Corbray, the one who killed Lewyn Martell?' The boy nodded. I told him, 'Prince Lewyn was a first-rate swordsman. I don't believe you beat him fairly. Tell me, did you take advantage of him?'"
"Ser Lyn would have hated that," Tyrion said. "That subject sets him off every time."
Podrick poured Tyrion a cup of wine. Dornish summer red.
"I didn't see him lose his temper with me," Jaime said, nudging his cup forward. "Pod, pour me one too. He was wound tight, circling me with his sword ready. I told him, 'Don't be so tense. I'm as strong as Lewyn Martell. If you could defeat him, you can defeat me.'"
"I imagine Ser Lyn was sweating," Tyrion said.
"He had skill, and quick reflexes." Jaime watched the wine fill his cup. "Fill it up, lad. But I'm taller, stronger, faster, and my sword is longer."
"No surprise you won cleanly."
"Of course. He kept moving, never daring to meet me head-on. Weaker than me, shorter blade." Jaime added another crude gesture, and the brothers burst into laughter. "Forget Prince Lewyn. He couldn't beat any of my brothers. Gerold the White Bull. Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning. Barristan the Bold. Oswell Whent. Not a single one of them. Me included."
"You're the finest swordsman I've ever seen," Tyrion said, raising his cup. "To the pure white cloaks of the Kingsguard."
"If you'd seen Arthur Dayne, you wouldn't say that." Jaime drained his cup in one go. "Still, Dornish wine is just right for toasting Prince Lewyn."
He wiped his mouth and studied Tyrion.
"Look at you. Armies at your command, a beautiful wife at your side. Tell me, do these men fight for you?"
"A beautiful wife at my side, armies at my command," Tyrion said. "They fight for their own interests, and for my sworn brothers. Close enough to fighting for me, but not quite the same."
"Seems our father's legacy is thriving in your hands." Jaime paused, then lowered his head. "Good lad, Pod. Could you step outside for a moment?"
Podrick looked to Tyrion. Tyrion nodded, and the boy quietly left the tent.
Jaime sat in silence for a time.
"Joffrey is dead."