Besides the wounds to his chest and abdomen, some of the Sparrows had stabbed Tywin in the face, eyes, and nose with daggers. It was easy to imagine how much they hated him.
"Tywin's corpse." Daenerys looked at the bloody body lying on the ground.
In death, Tywin's hard shell had finally shattered, leaving an old man covered in wounds.
"I will reward you with food and gold. Let them return home. The war is over."
"Long live the King!"
"Long live the King!" the Sparrows cried, tears filling their eyes. They had suffered the worst ravages of the war.
"Write to House Marbrand and House Farwynd. I demand their allegiance. Anything else is treason."
"As you command."
The Red Viper stood below the steps, savoring his revenge. But what came after revenge? What he had imagined had truly become reality.
Tywin Lannister-Lord of Casterly Rock, Warden of the West, father of Queen Mother Cersei, Ser Jaime the Kingslayer, and Tyrion the Imp, and maternal grandfather of the former boy kings Joffrey Baratheon and Tommen.
Tywin, a great lord whose name had once commanded such power, had died like a stray dog by the roadside, his remains mutilated, his face and body pierced by the Sparrows' blades.
The lords and knights looked upon the scene of Tywin's death with mixed feelings. They knew he was ruthless, but none denied his shrewdness and ability. He had governed the realm for twenty years.
Tywin had been nothing but an obsessive instrument, doing good and evil alike for his own ends.
He had been cold and merciless, not only toward his own children, but toward opposing commoners and lords as well. Thus, he had earned far more fear than praise.
Tywin might have realized this and deliberately trained his son to become a