Jon persuaded some, cajoled some, shamed the others, made threats where threats were required. They were words he had to say, and so he said them, apprehensive about what might come next. A grotesquely ancient oak provided shelter from the biting wind. Lord Tully is fond of song, I hear.
Jon Arryn rests easy now, his burdens lifted at last. Is the Hound the champion now? Sansa asked Ned. I chain him up in the old stables when we're training. By what right do you savages intrude on our councils? demanded Ser Kevan.
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