Chapter 39 Tyrion

"Fuck," Tyrion Lannister said softly as he read the dispatches the rider had brought them from the Lannister army outside King's Landing. No longer outside King's Landing, he corrected his thought, as he re-read the messages. Tyrion was in his solar in Harrenhal, enjoying his breakfast with Bronn which Pod had just brought them, when the rider was brought to him. The man was tired and travel stained, and said he was a knight of some minor household near the Golden Tooth that was loyal to House Lannister. He told Tyrion that Ser Kevan had sent him and then gave Tyrion the dispatches. There was a letter from his uncle and one also from Jaime.

His uncle's words were short and to the point. "Tyrion. Ironmen have attacked Lannisport. King Tommen has ordered the army home to defend our lands. We leave as soon as practical. You will remain in Harrenhal and defend it. Ser Gregor Clegane is raiding to the east of you. He will fall back on Harrenhal and join you. You must send the Princess west to Casterly Rock as soon as possible. May the gods protect you. Ser Kevan Lannister."

He passed the letter across the table to Bronn who quickly read it and then spoke. "Fuck," he said, louder than Tyrion had. "Gone already, are they?" The last was directed at the rider.

"Yes," the rider told them. "I left them at least six days past. They were already breaking camp."

"Six days," Tyrion said with a shake of his head. "And the attack on Lannisport?"

"It happened at least a week before we heard the news," said the rider. Almost two weeks, Tyrion thought with anger building in his mind. No one had sent any ravens to Harrenhal to tell them what was happening out west. That would be Cersei's doing, he knew. He then opened Jaime's letter and quickly read it.

"Dear brother. The Iron Fleet has attacked Lannisport and we have been summoned home. Sorry, but we are leaving you in the lurch I am afraid. Our dear uncle and the rest of them have lost heart over our prospects of defeating Stannis. They know the ironmen will be gone by the time we reach the west but we are going, despite my arguments against this move. The Mountain will soon join you there with three thousand men. Make sure you keep him and the Hound apart or blood may fly. Mace Tyrell has taken the field against us as well, not willingly, as Stannis still has his son and daughter hostage at King's Landing. Defend Harrenhal if you have sufficient supplies. If not, come home, before Stannis and the Tyrells can trap you there. You and your men are worth more than some old castle. Be wary of the Tullys. If they receive word of our moves they may think Stannis is winning and they may rise up against you. Above all you must send Myrcella west as soon as you can by the safest road. I will try to sort things out west and come east again as soon as possible. Jaime."

"At least he is more honest," Tyrion said as he handed the letter to Bronn, who read it and then placed it on the table and looked at Tyrion. "Right. So…when do we leave?"

Tyrion gave him an exasperated look. "We don't…not yet, at least." Tyrion looked at the rider. "What can you tell us about what happened?"

The man began to speak and seemed about to collapse from exhaustion with the effort so Tyrion interrupted him. "Oh, forgive me, my manners are not what they used to be. Sit, eat, drink, and tells us all you know."

The rider sat and ate and drank and told them everything about the battles, and the rumors, and the stories, and all he could, everything. Tyrion and Bronn learned of Ser Gregor's mission, and about the screams heard over the city at night, and the fear of wildfire that many in the ranks had, and how they had lost confidence after the last attack, and about Varys' disappearance, which they already knew about, and all the rest. After he was done, Tyrion had a guard show the man to some quarters so he could rest. As he was leaving Tyrion gave the rider a new order.

"You are not to speak of these tidings from King's Landing to anyone. Is that clear?"

"Yes, my lord," the man replied and then he was gone.

"The men will find out soon enough," Bronn told Tyrion when they were alone. He refilled their wine cups and Tyrion took a long drink from his before replying.

"It's not the men I am worried about," Tyrion said, knowing Bronn was right, that they would find out soon enough. But he had another problem on his mind. "If the Hound knows his brother is coming here, it will mean trouble. I hope to have him gone before these reinforcements arrive with his brother."

After that he called Ser Robyn to come to his solar and he shared the news with him.

"Damn," said Ser Robyn as soon as he heard the army had abandoned King's Landing. "What will Stannis do now?"

"They will no doubt strike here next," Tyrion said, taking another drink of wine. "I think we should get good and drunk today, gentlemen. It might be our last chance for a while."

"Aye," Bronn said. "We are truly fucked."

"Maybe not," Ser Robyn said after a moment. "Stannis has fought three big battles in little over a moon's turn. Many of his men have traveled from Dragonstone, to Storm's End, to the Roseroad and then to King's Landing. They are tired, his capital city is in ruins, and he knows the fall weather will soon drench the land in earnest. The Tyrells have no love for him as long as Stannis holds Ser Loras and the girl. They will drag their feet before coming here. And with even our small force we can hold out until Ser Jaime returns from the west."

"And we will have reinforcements soon," Tyrion said, trying to see the bright side of things as well.

"What reinforcements?" Ser Robyn asked.

"Ser Gregor and three thousand cavalry," Tyrion told him.

"That is good," Ser Robyn replied.

"Not so good," Bronn stated. "The Hound hates his brother. Wants to kill him"

Ser Robyn nodded. "Yes, a long simmering feud." He looked at Tyrion. "Your father kept them in check, as did King Robert. What is to stop them now from killing each other?"

"Distance," Tyrion answered. "The Hound is not to know his brother is coming. I think tomorrow is a good time to send the Princess Myrcella west. Ser Robyn, pick five hundred of your best men as escort."

"Five hundred, my lord?" Ser Robyn asked in surprise. "Surely that is too many. We will need these men here in case Stannis is not as cautious as we think he will be."

"Five hundred I said and five hundred it shall be," Tyrion told him sternly. "The Tullys may already be rethinking their peace treaty if Stannis offers them much for attacking us. If they intercept the Princess on the road west, she will make a good hostage, don't you think? We cannot allow that. Five hundred men will guard her, with the Hound. It will also be five hundred less mouths to feed."

"Aye," said Bronn. "But the Mountain will bring in many more soon after."

Tyrion knew he was right. "If Ser Gregor does not bring in much in the way of supplies with him, our dwindling resources will disappear more quickly. And the countryside around here is already barren. If we are placed under a long siege we will be soon reduced to eating the horses and the rats and the cats."

"Perhaps we should all head west," Ser Robyn said cautiously.

"I like the sound of that," Bronn said and Tyrion gave a weary shake of his head.

"No, gentlemen, we are staying, for the nonce at least. This is our last outpost in the east. As long as we hold it, it will be thorn in Stannis' side that he cannot ignore. He will be cautious about moving west and it will give Jaime and Ser Kevan more time to make new plans. Ser Robyn, see to the Princess' escort. They leave by noon tomorrow."

"As you command, my lord," Ser Robyn said. "I will start making the arrangements."

He left them and Bronn looked curiously at Tyrion. "You sure you want to stay here to wait for a siege?"

Tyrion grunted. "Certainly not. I don't relish eating rats and cats and my ugly head likes staying attached to the rest of my twisted body. The trick will be to get away before the enemy is close enough to pursue us. But we can't leave so quickly as to seem we abandoned our post without good cause."

"Then we will need plenty of scouts and patrols on the roads south of here to know when Stannis is coming to bugger us."

"Yes, see to the orders," Tyrion told him. "And send some to the east as well. I don't want the Mountain coming here before his brother is good and gone. Tell them to send word when they sight Ser Gregor's force."

Ser Gregor did not come that day, thankfully, and Tyrion did get a little drunk, and by nightfall he was ready for bed and his bed warmer Shae. He was in the great hall, supping with some of the men and Bronn and his wildings, thinking on how to stretch out their supplies to last longer, when he saw the Hound approaching the head table down the center aisle that went the length of the hall between the table and benches.

"IMP!" shouted the Hound, the word echoing in the mostly empty hall, and Tyrion just wearily sighed as silence came over the men at their benches.

"He knows," said Bronn by his side.

"Without a doubt," Tyrion replied quietly. "Do keep your sword handy. Dogs are not my favorite animal, especially when they have their blood up."

By this point the Hound was standing across the table from them. "When is Gregor coming?" he snarled at Tyrion.

"Soon," Tyrion replied with half a grin. "But you won't be here."

"The hell I won't!" the Hound answered in a growl. "Trying to get me away before he comes will do you no good. I obeyed your father and Robert for years. I kept my distance from Gregor, for the most part. Too bloody long I have let other men tell me what to do. Not now. Now it is time for me to end this once and for all. I will have Gregor's head or he will have mine!"

The whole hall was listening and after the Hound finished he was breathing hard and his eyes were bulging and Tyrion could tell he had been drinking. From the side of his vision Tyrion could see Timett sidling around to the right of the Hound and several other large men were rising from nearby tables behind the Hound. Clegane did not notice them so intent was his anger on Tyrion.

Tyrion rose and stood on his chair and then stood on the table so he could at least not have to crane his neck so much to look the Hound in his scar ravaged face. He got within a good foot of the Hound and glared at him. "You will do as you are ordered, Clegane. You will leave on the morrow with the Princess for Casterly Rock. These orders come from the King. And from me, your liege lord."

"Piss on you," the Hound said in a calmer voice, his breathing slower now.

Tyrion snorted. "Fine. From this moment on your services are no longer needed by House Lannister. You may go and meet your brother or your maker or whoever you wish. Be gone by morning."

The Hound just glared at him. "I have been loyal to House Lannister for over a dozen years. I am the Princess' shield. You cannot dismiss me! Only the King can do that!"

"So can I! I am the head of House Lannister!" Tyrion shouted back at him. It wasn't formal yet but by all the laws of the kingdoms it was true. "I can dismiss you from my service anytime I like! So unless you want to go begging in the streets or sell your sword to a free company across the Narrow Sea, prove your loyalty to House Lannister and your King, and do your duty for the Princess. You cannot protect her if you are dead!"

The Hound said nothing, but then his big right hand reached forward. For a moment, Tyrion thought he meant to grab him but he only grabbed a flagon of wine from the table. Bronn was standing, his hand on his sword hilt and by now Timett and five other big men were very close to the Hound.

The Hound drank some wine and pulled the flagon down and stared at Bronn and looked at the others nearby. "Piss on all of you," he growled. And then he turned and left, carrying the wine with him, and the men behind him parted to let him leave, his boots echoing on the stone floor of the great hall as he walked away.

The men visibly relaxed and returned to their tables. As Tyrion sat again Bronn looked to him. "What do we do with him?"

"Let the dog get drunk," Tyrion told him. "When he passes out, take Timett and Shagga and a few others, large others, and drag the Hound to a cell."

"Aye," Bronn said. "He'll be mighty pissed when he wakes up."

"That cannot be helped," Tyrion replied. "I have need of him yet and I cannot have his brother kill him or have him run off in the middle of the night looking for him."

"Who you think would win?" Bronn asked.

"Between the Mountain and the Hound?"

"Aye."

"Why? Are you placing a wager?"

"Some of the lads been discussing it, off and on. Minding this castle is a might boring at times."

"The Mountain would win," said Tyrion without hesitation. "And any man who bets against him is a fool."

"Odds might be good then," said Bronn. "Could get ten to one for the Hound to win. Maybe better. The Hound, he's no wilting flower either, you know."

"You have seen Gregor Clegane, have you not?" Tyrion asked with raised eyebrows.

"Aye, you know I have. We fought with him against the Starks on the Green Fork."

Tyrion was sure he felt pain in his elbow again as Bronn reminded him of that adventure. "I am sure once you think about Ser Gregor's size again and his ferocity in battle, you will think twice about betting against him," Tyrion stated. "Hopefully, you will never have a chance to place that wager. Now, that is enough excitement for one night for me. I think it is time for bed."

The next morning Sandor Clegane could be heard shouting at the cell block guards over much of the inhabited part of the castle, growling at them to release him from his cell or he would kill them all. He was in one of the cells that just had bars, no solid walls, so his shouts were easily heard outside the cell block. When Tyrion and Bronn arrived he was in a proper rage and ready to kill anyone, and he began to curse them soundly. But when he saw Princess Myrcella coming in behind them, he suddenly went quiet.

"Princess…I did not know…I…" But he faltered, trying to grope for words. Tyrion could see he had a terrible hangover, his face pale and sweaty, his body unsteady.

"I don't want you to try to kill your brother," Myrcella said in her sweet little girl's voice and Clegane sighed and turned his eyes from her and glared at Tyrion.

"You dare to use her to get what you want?"

"It's what she wants as well," Tyrion replied. Clegane was right, he was using her, but he needed the Hound to protect her and he needed her to get him to leave.

"I don't want you to die, Sandor," Myrcella said to the Hound. "I want you to take me to Mother and Tommen."

Clegane looked at her and shook his head. "I must do this first, my Princess."

"No!" she said in what passed for a commanding voice from her. "I command you to not fight your brother."

Clegane shook his head once again and he sighed heavily. "Do you know how I got my scars, Princess?"

She quickly answered. "From a fire."

"Yes…a fire…my brother put…."

"Enough!" Tyrion said swiftly. "She does not need hear this."

"No?" the Hound snarled. "You brought her here. She will hear it all so she knows what kind of men are in this world and why I must kill my brother."

Tyrion now knew it was a mistake to bring the Princess here. "Bronn, take her back to her quarters."

"Wait!" Myrcella said. She looked at Clegane with pity in her eyes. "I know he did it to you…Sansa…she told me…please don't be mad at her."

The big man seemed to deflate at the mention of Sansa Stark, all his anger draining away as his body went slack. "I could never be mad at her," he said quietly.

Myrcella approached the bars. "Sansa said you wanted revenge, that you could not forgive him."

"Never," Clegane said.

"Please try…for me…and for Sansa. She does not want you to die either, she told me."

Clegane's eyes were glistening now, and Tyrion did not know what to make of this. What was the connection between the Hound and Sansa Stark? Suddenly Clegane fell to his knees inside the cell and put his head against the bars. Myrcella stepped forward, reached through the bars and touched his head and then his scar ravaged cheek. He seemed to almost flinch at her touch, not in pain, but as if he was unused to anyone touching him there.

"Come. You are my shield," she said in her sweet voice. "I need you to protect me. I need you to take me to my mother and brother."

For a long moment he did nothing and then he nodded once, looked up and stared at Tyrion. "I will go to Casterly Rock. Today. Open the door."

Tyrion looked to Bronn, nodded, and Bronn took the keys from a nearby guard and opened the door and the Hound stepped out.

"You leave in one hour," Tyrion told him. "Get yourself some food."

He stared at Tyrion for a long moment and Tyrion could feel the hatred in his stare, but then the Hound just nodded and followed Myrcella out of the cell block.

"It ain't over between them two," Bronn said as he handed the keys back to the guard.

"No, it isn't," Tyrion replied. "Someday they will fight."

Princess Myrcella and her escort left by the main gate just after the noon hour. The Princess and her two handmaidens were on horse now, Tyrion vetoing the use of the wheel house they had traveled from King's Landing in as it was too slow and cumbersome for travel over hill and dale. Tyrion estimated the journey would take them a week or more to reach the Lannister lands to the west. The worry was that they would have to pass through Tully lands, the road passing close by Riverrun. He told the commander to head south of the road where possible, to have a more direct route to Lannister lands in the west. The terrain was hilly and forested, but the further south of Riverrun they were, the better. Yet he knew even if they left the road they would have to pass through lands where no one loved the Lannisters. Once they reached the Golden Tooth they were to send word that they had arrived in the west. He also gave strict instructions to the cavalry commander leading them to not get in a fight with anyone unless they absolutely had no choice.

The Hound still looked a bit unsteady as he led his massive horse he called Stranger from the stables. Tyrion had just said goodbye to Myrcella and she was mounting her horse with the help of Bronn when the Hound arrived.

"I am sure there is no point in giving any instructions as to your mission," Tyrion said to him.

"I know my duty," he replied with a grunt.

"The cavalry commander is in charge," Tyrion added. "But you are to do as you think best to protect the Princess and see her safely to Casterly Rock."

"The Tullys will not be pleased to see us," the Hound said.

"No, indeed not," Tyrion replied. "But you will steer clear of Riverrun. You have a formidable force with you and they should think twice before they do anything foolish. Safe journeys."

The Hound said nothing but just mounted his horse. A minute later Tyrion said his final goodbyes to the Princess and the group left Harrenhal. After a short time the last rider left through the gates and they were gone.

"Now what?" Bronn asked Tyrion. He knew Bronn as itching to leave, to do something before they were trapped here with no escape. But they couldn't do that yet.

"Now we wait. Sooner or later Stannis will make his move. Then we will know what to do."

The next day before noon, as Tyrion talked to Ser Robyn about supplies while nearby Bronn was training Pod and some other young squires in the main courtyard, a scout rode in to report that the Mountain and his men were a few hours ride away and heading in their direction.

"Seems we got the Hound away just in time," said Tyrion to Bronn and Ser Robyn.

"Shame," said Bronn and when Tyrion gave him a quizzical look Bronn shrugged. "Timett was going to give me twenty to one odds for the Hound to beat his brother."

Tyrion shook his head in exasperation and then resumed his conversation with Ser Robyn.

"With the supplies we gave to the Princess' party and with these new men to feed, our provisions won't last a month," Ser Robyn told him.

"Then it is past time I sent word to Casterly Rock of our situation," Tyrion said. "If they can't send aid we may have to abandon Harrenhal while we still have enough food to see us west. Unless Ser Gregor has brought us something more than his temper and his sword and more mouths to feed with food we do not have."

Ser Gregor did bring them more, much more, when he came in later that day. Behind his party came almost fifty wagons, loaded with booty and food from his raids to the east. They also had some livestock, chickens, pigs, sheep, and a few cows. On top of this they had a prisoner, and Tyrion was pleased to see this particular man.

He was dragged by a rope behind Ser Gregor's massive war horse, and was so badly beaten and near naked, his bare feet and knees bloody from being forced to walk and dragged behind the horse, he would have been unrecognizable except for his height and the long ropey beard he had.

"Imp," said the Mountain as he halted his horse before Tyrion and the others in the main courtyard. "I bring you the Goat." Ser Gregor tugged on the rope and the Goat was dragged forward and fell to his knees in the mud of the courtyard.

"I would rather have just had his head," Tyrion said as he looked down on Vargo Hoat.

"In due time," said the Mountain. "This one must suffer first for his crimes."

"Seems like he has suffered already," Tyrion replied. "Well, I think a cell for him until you do with him as you wish. Then see to your men and then we need talk on some matters."

The Mountain dismounted and shouted to some men behind him to bring the Goat to the cells. These men were not Lannister soldiers, but the Mountain's loyal retainers from his own lands. A motley crew they were, in all kinds of armor and with plenty of lethal weapons adorning them. Tyrion knew they were a ruthless lot, and had to be to ride with the Mountain.

As Vargo Hoat was picked up and the rope attaching him to the horse was cut, he spoke to Tyrion in his slobbering voice. "Mercy, Lord Lannithter," he gasped.

Tyrion had no mercy for the likes of Vargo Hoat. "You should have thought of the consequences when you tried to kidnap the Princess and Lady Stark."

"Not me…my men. I did not know."

"Men under your command," Tyrion told him. "Take him away."

Later, when the Mountain's men were settled, he came to the solar where Tyrion, Bronn, and Ser Robyn awaited him.

"Where is my brother?" Ser Gregor asked right away.

"Gone to Casterly Rock, with the Princess," Tyrion told him. "And you are to stay here, as far away from him as possible."

"So he ran away again, like the cowardly dog he is," Ser Gregor said with a snort.

"He did not run," Tyrion replied. "He begged me to let him stay and fight you."

"You should have let him stay. Sooner or later we must come to blows."

"Not while I am Lord of Casterly Rock, Ser Gregor," Tyrion told him with a sharp look.

"Lord…of the Rock?" the Mountain said with skepticism. "Ser Jaime is Lord of the Rock."

"No," Ser Robyn told him. "Ser Jaime is Lord Commander of the Kingsguard and cannot inherit. Lord Tyrion is now our liege lord."

The Mountain grunted and looked at Tyrion. "So be it…my lord."

"Good," Tyrion answered, glad that was settled. "Now tell us of your raiding."

"We struck Rosby first, took what we could and killed some. Then we rode to Duskendale. We had a sharp fight there, outside the fort, but they retreated inside. The Dun Fort is a tough nut to crack so we let them cower inside while we raided the port. We took much and burned the rest. Then before we could reach Maidenpool a messenger reached us from Ser Kevan and told us they were going to Lannisport and for us to come here quickly."

"Your losses?" Tyrion asked.

"About a hundred dead and as many wounded. I still have over twenty-seven hundred men."

"What news of Stannis' movements?" Tyrion asked him next.

"None…my lord."

"He must still be in King's Landing," said Ser Robyn. "Our scouts to the south report no movements."

"Then we are in a waiting game," said Tyrion. He turned his attention back to the Mountain. "Where did you find Hoat?'

"In Duskendale, trying to get a ship to the east," Ser Gregor replied. "My men found him in a bar by the docks. He killed three of them before they took him. They knew I wanted him alive."

"Do with him as you please," Tyrion told him. "As long as I don't have to hear his screams at night."

"As you command," Ser Gregor said. "Where is Ser Armory Lorch? I would think he would be at a war council."

"He's dead," Bronn told him.

"How?"

"My sword in his belly," Bronn replied. "He tried to cut Tyrion's throat."

"He was planning to surrender Harrenhal to Stannis," Ser Robyn told the Mountain. "We confronted him and he attacked Tyrion."

The Mountain grunted and looked to Tyrion. "He would not serve under you?"

"No, I think he would have, if he had no other choice," Tyrion answered. "Stannis gave him the other choice. Ser Amory did not feel we could win now that my father is dead. Thought his best chance of getting out of this with his head was to join Stannis."

"Stannis would have put his head on a spike," Ser Robyn said. "The moment after he surrendered Harrenhal."

"Better than the fire his red cunt is serving up for prisoners," Bronn said and they told the Mountain that story and all the rest that they knew. The rest of the day they spent going over the defenses of Harrenhal and how best to use the Mountain's men. Pod brought them some lunch of bread, cheese, cold meat and ale as they talked.

And so it went for the next week. No news came of Stannis movements, at least not in their direction. The Riverlands lords and their people were quiet as well. There was also no news from the west. Tyrion sent ravens, telling them of his low supplies and that the Princess was heading west and that the Mountain had joined them, but he still received no word from Jaime or anyone else.

The only thing of interest to happen was that after four days of slow torture the Mountain finally put the Goat out of his misery. Tyrion did not approve, but he knew he had to show these men he was no softy when it came to punishing those who crossed House Lannister. The Goat's head was soaked in tar and placed on a spike over the main gate of Harrenhal, a warning to all not to cross the Lannisters, as if that needed further stating. Maybe it did, Tyrion thought. His family's reputation was taking a battering these days. His father and his brother were hoodwinked by Robb Stark, he was kidnapped by Lady Stark, Stannis had kicked them out of King's Landing, and the Iron Fleet attacked Lannisport. No one seemed to fear the lion anymore. That needed to be rectified.

During the week when no news came it rained every day except one, and the maester told Tyrion that fall was definitely here. The cisterns of the castle were refilled with fresh water, but mud was in every courtyard, and the ruins of the castle had more than one leaky roof. The rain made their moods fouler and the only things that comforted Tyrion were a good flagon of wine and Shae's warm arms at night.

Finally, news came from the west. A raven arrived from Jaime, describing what he had found when he at last returned to the Rock. Uncle Emmon Frey in chains, admirals and captains hung on Cersei's orders, the fleet sunk at anchor, the city docks and warehouses torched, thousands dead or missing, the Iron Fleet raiding the coast, and now heading to the Reach. And, most surprising of all, Jaime was now Hand of the King. But not for long, he said cryptically at the end of the message. Tyrion did not have to wait long to ponder the meaning of that. Three days later, as Tyrion still lay in bed with Shae in the morning, the maester came with a new raven scroll for him. "From Casterly Rock," the maester said as Tyrion greeted him at the door.

Tyrion came back inside and closed the door. Shae still lay slumbering but as she heard him close the door she came awake and looked at him standing there reading the scroll.

"What is it?" she asked in a sleepy voice.

Tyrion sat down and pour himself some wine and drank before he spoke. "A royal decree from King Tommen. He has named me Hand of the King again."

"Fuck," she said as she buried her head in her pillows. "Why can't they leave you alone?"

"Tommen has ordered me west as soon as possible," Tyrion added. "The Mountain is to take command here."

Shae sat up, now fully awake. "Don't go. Your sister will find a way to hurt you."

"Jaime will be there."

"He will be with the army. You will be there with that cunt and she hates you."

Tyrion knew she was right, but something inside of him wanted to go, wanted to be Hand again. "It's a direct order from the King. To refuse would be treason."

"Your father refused Mad Aerys once."

"Yes," he said and gave her a puzzled look. "How did you know that?"

"I listen when you talk. I have learned much of this cursed land from your tongue."

He grinned. "And I have enjoyed much from your tongue as well."

"This is no time for jokes," Shae snapped at him. "You have to write to them and say no."

"But…I don't want to say no."

Shae glared at him. "You're a fucking idiot. Go then! I don't care! I'm staying here."

"With the Mountain and his lot? No, my dear, you will not stay here. They will have you as they will and it will not be pretty, I assure you. And if Stannis comes there will be a siege and that would not be pretty either."

"I can't go to Casterly Rock," Shae shot back. "Your sister thinks I was Lord Varys' serving girl, remember? She will squeeze me to know what he has done."

"True enough," Tyrion said as he drank some more wine. "We must find a place for you on the road, some little town near the Rock, or maybe a holdfast where you can be safe."

"More hiding," she said in disgust.

"It's that or come to the Rock and take a chance Cersei does not remember you. Or stay here and be a plaything for the Mountain's men until they tire of you."

"There is no other choice?"

He chuckled. "You could marry me and then…"

"Yes," Shae said swiftly.

Tyrion gulped. "What?"

"Yes…I will marry you. Your sister cannot touch me if I am the wife of the Lord of Casterly Rock."

"But…but…I…was…" No, he could not say that. He could not say he was jesting, that would hurt her and she was already mad enough. And Tyrion knew that deep down he had strong feelings for her, perhaps even loved her. Could he marry her? Would the realm allow it?

She laughed at him. "Look at you. Like a little worm trying to escape the bird. I was joking. Of course I cannot marry you. Then she would find a way to kill me for sure."

Tyrion came over to the bed and kiss her once and looked at her with a gentle smile. "Some day…when peace comes, and if we all still have our heads…I will find a way to make you happy."

"Make me happy now. Refuse the King."

Tyrion took a deep breath and let it out. "I can't." I don't want to would have been a more truthful answer.

She sighed heavily. "Then I guess we are going to Casterly Rock."

The news spread quickly. Of course Bronn and Pod were going with him, and Tyrion hoped Shagga and Timett and the surviving wild men and women would as well. But he was soon disappointed.

"Halfman," Shagga began as he drank with Tyrion that night in the great hall. "We have traveled far and have seen much. We have killed many and have drunk of battle and blood for many lifetimes of a man. We have plenty of gold and silver and booty for our people. We will return to our mountains to enjoy it while we still have life."

Timett and the other clan leaders said much of the same and that night they drank often to their friendship and shared many stories of their deeds. By the time Tyrion crawled into bed with Shae he was too drunk to do more than nuzzle her neck and breasts and then he passed out. The next day, with his head feeling like it was ready to split in two, he made his final goodbyes to the wildings as they rode out the gates on their shaggy ponies with more draft horses hauling a dozen wagons full of coin and booty behind them.

"May you live long and fuck many beautiful women, Halfman!" roared Timett as he rode past.

"Thank you, my friend!" Tyrion replied, winching a bit from the pain in his head. "And if you ever see Lysa Arryn and her rotten son, push them both off a mountain for me! I will pay you handsomely, and you know a Lannister always pays his debts!"

With one last rousing cry of "Halfman!" the wildlings rode off to the northeast and soon were gone from sight. Tyrion already missed them.

"There go our last allies," Bronn said in a rueful tone as they walked back inside the castle and the gates were shut.

"Yes. We are quite friendless," Tyrion replied. "It is time we did something about that. Come Bronn, we have much to discuss. Let us have some food and drink and then make our plans." Soon they were in his solar again and they talked and ate after food and drink had been brought by Pod.

"And what exactly are we going to do to pull your great family's nuts out of the fire?" Bronn asked after he gulped some ale.

"First, we are going to put my sister in her place where she can no longer interfere in the running of this war."

"How?"

"I'm still thinking on that little problem. As for making new allies, I have a nephew and a niece to marry off."

"Aye?" Bronn said with a hint of skepticism in his voice. "And who would want to marry them if Stannis looks like he will win the war? No family will be fool enough to give their daughters or sons to wed a King and Princess that might soon be dead."

"Your lack of confidence is most disturbing, Bronn," Tyrion replied. "You forget that Margaery Tyrell wanted to marry Joffrey once. Tommen is King now and I am sure she still wants to be Queen."

"Could be…if she wasn't stuck in King's Landing."

"Yes…that is a problem. But the Tyrells will come to our side, once their children are free. They hate Stannis. He killed his brother, who was married to Margaery. He holds their liege lord's children hostage. His red whore killed their men with sorcery."

"Burning oil, it was, or maybe wildfire," Bronn said as he picked up his tankard of ale and sipped. "No such thing as sorcery."

"Yes, and an assassin killed my father and Renly both," Tyrion said in a sarcastic tone. "Nevermind all that. Back to the Tyrells. All we need is a bit of luck and they will come to our side. Perhaps even some of the men who turned their cloaks to join Stannis after Renly died will turn on him and desert."

"Could be," Bronn said. "But you still need a fleet to defeat the ironmen and Stannis' fleet. And we need more men with more swords, we need…"

"Gold, which we have plenty of," Tyrion interrupted. "Gold will buy us all we need. All is at a stalemate now. Time is on our side, not Stannis'. He will gather allies as well, but the Starks and the Tullys are in no shape for renewed battle before winter comes. Lysa Arryn will stay where she is. As for the Dornish…Prince Martell has two sons. Perhaps one would like to marry Myrcella."

"Don't they hate your lot?"

"That they do," Tyrion said thoughtfully. "Ser Amory and Ser Gregor killed Elia and her children. I already have Ser Amory's head. Perhaps I should have let the Mountain fight the Hound. If the Hound won I could deliver both heads to Dorne and say justice was done."

"The Mountain is right here," Bronn said. "Why not just take his head?"

Tyrion raised his eyebrows. "And who will fight him? You?"

"Nope. Just cut his throat in the middle of the night. Or on the privy. All men must sleep and shit."

Tyrion laughed. "Yes, they must. But you forget the Mountain has his own men with him."

"All except a dozen or so are loyal to House Lannister."

Already that dozen or so were causing trouble, gambling and drinking and picking fights with other Lannister men. Tyrion had to tell the Mountain to keep his men in hand and Ser Gregor had already used his massive hands and strength to snap the neck of one who was so drunk he spoke back to the Mountain when told to sober up.

Tyrion seriously thought on doing as Bronn suggested for a moment and then dismissed it. "No, I can't start my rule of the Rock by killing my loyal bannermen. My father always knew Ser Gregor was the one the Martells wanted. But he had need of the Mountain and so do I. He is ruthless and I need him here while we go west."

"Just as well," Bronn replied. "The Dornish most likely will never make any kind of deal with your family, no matter if you give them the Mountain's head or not."

"They won't support Stannis either," Tyrion added. "They hate him as much as they hate us. His claim comes from Robert's which comes from the murder of Elia and her children."

"So does Tommen's," Bronn added.

Tyrion raised his eyebrows again. "True…all true…but…well, I guess the Dornish hate us all. Maybe they will stay neutral in all this. Or wait until we bleed each other dry before striking for their revenge. So. Our only hope for new allies lays with the Reach. If they don't come to our side, then I fear we have little hope of prevailing in this war."

"We could just head across the Narrow Sea now," Bronn said, reminding him of their plan to leave Westeros.

Tyrion sighed. "It sounds good, but not yet. We are still in the fight. As much as I hate my sister, I love my brother and most of the rest of my family, and the people of the west and the whole realm deserve a better king than Stannis Baratheon. These sacrifices we hear that his red woman is making. That is just the beginning. This Lord of Light she follows. She will plant the seeds of this new religion in Westeros. With Stannis as King and the Lord of Light as his savior, how long before she is demanding that all of Westeros follow her god as well?"

"I'm not a godly man, as you well know," Bronn said. "But I know the people won't stand for it."

"Indeed not," Tyrion replied. "I am sure Stannis knows as well. But just how much he is under her power, that we have yet to see."

"Too bad Varys never found an assassin to cut her throat."

Tyrion smiled. "We can still find one. And now I am Lord of the Rock and Hand of the King, there is no lack of gold to pay one."

"Speaking of payment…"

"Yes, yes," Tyrion said with a chuckle and a shake of his head. "You will get all I promised and more. Including your lordship. Now, Lord Bronn, let us begin preparing for our journey west."

The next day they were packed and ready to go by late morning. Tyrion had some last words with the Mountain, promising to send supplies from the west as soon as possible and giving permission for him to abandon Harrenhal if his position became untenable. The Mountain only said he would never abandon the castle and would cut the head off any man who suggested they do so without a fight. Tyrion knew his rule of the castle would be brutal, but that was why his father had kept him around and why Tyrion needed him now.

Tyrion spied Shae in a supply wagon near the rear of the column and then after he gave her a reassuring grin, he rode to the front with Bronn and Pod at his side. Ser Robyn and five hundred cavalry were waiting for them outside the gates. After all he had done for Tyrion and House Lannister, he could not leave Ser Robyn behind to be under the Mountain's command and to await whatever fate Stannis had in store for them. Ser Robyn was a good leader and the Lannisters would have need of such men before all this was over.

Tyrion gave Ser Robyn the command to lead off and in a few moments they were heading west, leaving Harrenhal behind, and Tyrion secretly hoped he never saw the place again. He set his mind to what he had to do when he reached the Rock. Above all he had to once and for all confront Cersei. She would have to give up all reins of power and fade into the background and do her duty as mother of the King and nothing more. If she refused, well, then she and all the rest would see just how much their father Tyrion was really like.