Jaime frowned as he stared at the street, where Winterfell cavalrymen were surrounded by layers of Gold Cloaks and Lannister soldiers.
Seeing no hope of breaking through, Eddard and five Winterfell cavalrymen stood with swords drawn, protecting the adult in their midst, who wore a caravan leader's clothes and a hood.
Something was wrong. The Young Wolf Lord wasn't the sort of person who needed protecting!
The thought flashed through his mind. With a CLANG, Jaime drew his sword and strode toward the Winterfell cavalrymen, shouting, "Everyone, get out of my way!"
The soldiers in front of him hurriedly scattered to either side, opening a path straight to the inner edge of the encirclement.
"Robb Stark, I wanted to cross swords with you last time, but that bastard interrupted us.
"Now get out here, or they'll all die horribly!"
Arriving at the inner edge of the encirclement, Jaime held his sword level in his right hand and pointed it at the hooded figure as he shouted.
One Winterfell cavalryman, knowing he was doomed today, couldn't help wanting to test himself against the Kingslayer, famed throughout the Seven Kingdoms.
He held his sword at his waist and rushed forward, thrusting swiftly and powerfully at Jaime.
With a smile on his face, Jaime swept his sword down from above in his right hand, tracing a counterclockwise semicircle and easily knocking the cavalryman's sword aside.
Then his sword wrist turned. Using the momentum, he smoothly drove his sword forward before sweeping it back in a clockwise semicircle.
CLANG!
SPLAT!
The sword slipped from the Winterfell cavalryman's hand and fell uselessly to the ground. He slowly lowered his head and looked at his severed abdomen. Blood and organs spilled across the ground. Then he closed his eyes and collapsed heavily.
The remaining four cavalrymen