The mobs of King's Landing had already roasted the bakers, after all. Roasting a king and a Hand as well was hardly out of the question.
Lady Tanda came over. The terrified old woman asked after her foolish daughter. "My daughter, where is she? She's the only daughter I have left."
The heirs of both the countess and Lord Gyles had been captured by the Crackclawmen, and their castles had been plundered.
"Never saw her." The Hound frowned as he looked around the courtyard. "Where's my horse? If anything's happened to that horse, someone will answer for it!"
"My daughter," Lady Tanda sobbed. "Please, sers..."
"It ran with us for a while," Tyrion Lannister said, "but I don't know what happened afterward."
"Fire!" soldiers screamed from the walls. "My lords, the city's on fire! Flea Bottom is burning!"
Tyrion was exhausted. He had not expected bad news to come one piece after another, but letting setbacks defeat him was not his style. He had to keep trying. Send men-send Bronn and The Hound to put out the fire.
Men had to be sent to protect the water wheels. Flea Bottom could be abandoned if necessary, but the flames must never be allowed to spread to the Alchemists' Guild.
"You three, take heralds and announce martial law. Send everyone home. Once the last evening bell has rung, kill anyone still on the streets." Tyrion then gave his orders to the three White Knights. They were somewhat reluctant to leave, afraid their white cloaks would enrage the mob and even less willing to leave this safe courtyard.
Ser Malin Trant, Boros, and Ser Mandon Moore all thought this mob was terrifying. They could not forget the howling tide of people.
"But our duty is to protect the king."
Only after Cersei heaped