Even Tytos Blackwood was among them, the great raven cloak fanned out behind him. Old Nan had told her there were spiders down here, and rats as big as dogs. A deep-throated warhorn sounded its long low note. Like his father, he knew how to listen.
Run to your father. If any man in this hall has other matters to set before His Grace, let him speak now or go forth and hold his silence. Jyck and Morrec huddled close, sullen and miserable. And this is Bronn, a sellsword of no particular allegiance.
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