Sam read every book in his father's library. Catelyn looked to her husband. The yard was alive to the clack of wood on wood, punctuated all too often by thwacks and yowls of pain when a blow struck leather or flesh. Tyrion felt the anger all around him, thick and smoky, fed by the deep cuts in the Stark woman's hands.
Even a blind man could see the Hound loathed his brother. A GAME OF THRONES 527 I did hold Tyrion Lannister, but no longer, Catelyn was forced to admit. He bared his teeth and crept backward, eyes glowing golden in the light of the maester's torch. The septa peered at her suspiciously, but Father nodded.
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