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Beneath the cowl was a gaunt and bony face, hollow cheeks, and dark eyes that looked as big as saucers. As she made her way through the ragged throng, past their cookfires, wagons, and crude shelters, the queen found herself remembering 416GEORGE R. Jaime undid the last fastening and set his hand aside. The second turnkey had managed to push back from the bench and draw his dagger before someone shoved a longsword through his ribs.
Lady Nym was no less deadly, though she kept her knives well hidden. A nice fat mule would be more comfortable to ride. Upon his chest lay a longsword in a gilded scabbard studded with rubies, his hands folded about its hilt in gloves of gilded mail. The ironborn shall be waves.