Then it came to him. He lookedaround at the others. The great dog. Tyrion resolved to get very, very drunk tonight.
Sixcoppers for a melon, a silver stag for a bushel of corn, a dragon for a sideof beef or six skinny piglets. He was followed by Bowen Marsh, who stood with one hand on Lord Slynt's shoulder. Whitetree was on the maps he'd drawn, on their way north. Or perhaps Tyrion himself was to blame for this new boldness.
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