In some khalasars, Jhiqui said, the bloodriders shared the khal's wine, his tent, and even his wives, though never his horses. Robb used the same move on me once, only with a wooden blade. You leave him alone! Sansa screamed at her sister. His blood ran black.
He hesitated. Stout, jowly Janos Slynt puffed himself up like an angry frog, his bald pate reddening. Even hungry dogs know better than to bite the hand that feeds them, Littlefinger called dryly. His soot-dark armor seemed to blot out the sun.
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