Brienne straightened and looked down at her waist.
The sword rested against the outside of her thigh, its wooden scabbard wrapped in black leather. Silver fittings ran along its length, their edges engraved with vines.
The ruby at the end of the hilt caught a glimmer of dark red in the moonlight.
She reached out and touched the hilt, her fingertips brushing the dark blue leather wrapped around it, then lowered her hand.
When she spoke, her voice was low, every word clear and deliberate. "I will protect you with my life."
Aegon did not answer. He merely nodded.
Brienne turned her gaze toward Arya.
The thought surfaced again: Lady Catelyn's charge.
She had promised to find her lady's daughter and bring her somewhere safe. That was why she had searched all the way across the Riverlands and the Vale.
Arya met her gaze and spoke first. "I'll be fine. Just stay by his side."
Brienne fell silent for a while, then walked over and took her place behind Aegon.
She was tall and powerfully built, standing there like a solid wall. The Valyrian steel sword at her waist gleamed dark gray in the moonlight.
Arya turned to Aegon. "Where are we going next?"
"There's still some unfinished business in the Vale," Aegon said. "It won't take long. Once we're done here, I'm going north, to the Wall. There's someone there, a younger brother I've never met."
Arya froze. "A brother?"
"Jon Snow. He's my half brother. We share a father."
Arya's mouth hung open, but she could not utter a word.
Jon Snow. The bastard of Winterfell.
Ned Stark's son, her bastard half brother. That was what she had always believed.
The one who had taught her how to hold a sword in the courtyard, who had hauled her