His sword hand trembled violently. Watching the rioters charge like fiends from hell, seeing the naked killing intent in their eyes, he screamed, "Kill them! Hurry-"
Before he could finish, several rioters at the front lunged at Joffrey like ravenous tigers, ignoring the few Kingsguard beside him who tried to stop them, only to be instantly overwhelmed.
"No! My son!"
Cersei let out a heart-rending scream and tried to rush forward, but Tyrion held her back with all his strength.
Joffrey waved his sword futilely, but several thick, filthy hands seized him in an instant.
"Take him away! Take him to the Great Sept of Baelor and try this bastard before the gods!"
The High Sparrow's hoarse yet incendiary voice rang out through the crowd.
"Put the bastard king on trial!"
"Take him to the Great Sept!"
Amid the frenzied howls, countless hands dragged Joffrey away, his feet lifted off the ground. He was hauled out of the Throne Room and vanished into the surging black mass beyond the doors.
Only his shrill, desperate cries and curses echoed through the hall as he was dragged away.
Cersei watched helplessly as her son was dragged off. As though her soul had been drained away, she collapsed to the floor, wailing soundlessly, her beautiful face contorted by overwhelming anguish and hatred.
But the remaining rioters would not spare these pampered nobles. They charged at them, roaring.
They stared bloodthirstily at Tyrion and the others. Tyrion shouted sharply at Bronn and the Kingsguard, "There are too many! Take Cersei and Tommen. Pycelle, Littlefinger, Varys, and that Stark girl, hurry and follow! Anyone who wants to live, stay close!"
Without a word, Bronn roughly slung the limp Cersei over his shoulder as though picking up a chick.
They headed toward a temporary wooden walkway