Something in his tone made Bran even more fearful. Just before he closed his eyes for the last time, he whispered something to the king and his lady wife, a blessing for his son. The sellsword king, how the singers would love me. This has gone on long enough.
He surveyed his ragged band of brigands: near three hundred Stone Crows, Moon Brothers, Black Ears, and Burned Men, and those just the seed of the army he hoped to grow. As you command, m1ord. Is that understood? Bran nodded eagerly. First he made my brother tell me the truth.
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