She could feel the old women watching her, the ancient crones of Vaes Dothrak, with eyes that shone dark as polished flint in their wrinkled faces. Khal Drogo smiled. The winding stone steps were narrow. He drew a paper from his sleeve, sealed with the sigil of his House.
Nor was he Aemon Targaryen. y! Riverrun and Tully! When she realized there was no more to see, she closed her eyes and listened. Robb Stark had reached Riverrun days and days ago. He was wearing his scarlet silks, soiled and travel-stained.
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