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  • and ran like a hare, her yellow silk dress gleaming in
  • “Soon enough.” Griff would be glad to go back to his
  • threw down their spears and shields and ran, only to find
  • to me that the Targaryen girl is never coming west. Westeros
  • Max gaining upon her, now, at every stride. There was a
  • missing. “Have they made you a captain, Flowers?” Griff
  • coming. Her host is on the march. She is racing south to
  • his men to boil the flesh from his skull, dip it in gold,
  • To his host he explained that he was moving his safari
  • and had known but one commander, the soft-spoken, sad-eyed
  • more than sixteen and fancied herself Yunkai’s own Daenerys
  • the Tattered Prince his sword and service for a year. Those
  • ‘beware’ for nothing.” They were soon anxious for
  • gave his consent. “But remember, so far as the company
  • The more Quentyn heard of Daenerys Targaryen, the more
  • tide had turned. This is a side of Aegon I never saw before.
  • his boys had deserted, for a hunting party from the bungalow
  • across one shoulder, and hair as red as blood tumbled to
  • “There is wisdom in that,” Griff admitted. It might
  • protect Quentyn, and that meant keeping him by the big
  • big farm, evidently finding in the society of this rougher
  • the Drunken Conqueror, the Beastmaster, Pudding Face, the
  • the Tattered Prince his sword and service for a year. Those
  • “Which plan?” said Tristan Rivers. “The fat man’s
  • she had come to believe, since otherwise he would have
  • coming and going in a palanquin so huge it required forty
  • called all the officers to his tent. War council. The bloody
  • “There is wisdom in that,” Griff admitted. It might
  • the moving ray. Inhaling sibilantly, Max leaped after her.
  • ten for every officer, and a hundred choice maidens all
  • plans that he and Illyrio had made with Blackheart had
  • he still sat straight and tall in the high saddle, and
  • the ray of light from Max's lamp impinged upon the opening
  • lances, whilst fork-tailed blue-and-white banners flew
  • “That is kind of you.” Strickland beckoned to his squire.
  • “Daenerys may be halfway to Yunkai by now, with an army
  • his fingers, right and left, and presently found slimy
  • who had always seemed more concerned with making friends
  • Tall battle standards of cloth-of-gold flapped atop lofty
  • to learn how many ships might be available to us. The harbor
  • He paused for a moment, hoping to be able to lower the
  • us. Prince Aegon is Elia’s son as well as Rhaegar’s.”
  • a merchant’s man, but on the shores of Slaver’s Bay
  • replaced Strickland as paymaster. A leopard skin was draped
  • In three strides he found his foot splashing in water.
  • want no songs about the gallant exile,” the eunuch had
  • is a long time. Even the men who’d ridden with him might
  • requires coin. But why linger? Fear? Madness? Sloth?”
  • her arms, and laughed shrilly, insanely. Then she turned
  • wrinkled up like raisins. No, not that towel, the soft
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