Let him write all the letters to the queen he likes. The west had been a tinderbox since Catelyn had seized Tyrion Lannister. It nuzzled blindly against Robb's chest as he cradled it, searching for milk among his leathers, making a sad little whimpery sound. The old woman smiled at him toothlessly.
Why should you want to help my khal? All men are one flock, or so we are taught, replied Mirri Maz Duur. The wind screamed at her and wrenched at her cloak, trying to pull her over the edge. You mean the Others, Bran said querulously. Someone had to go, to hold the Neck and help the Tullys against the Lannisters, Bran could understand that, but it did not have to be Robb.
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