GOT: The Great Khal — Chapter 152 - Brienne — Face to Face

Flea Bottom had no day or night. Only deeper dark and fouler air.

Brienne pulled her hood low and kept her head down as she moved through the narrow lane they called Mud Alley.

Her boots sank with each step. When she pulled them free, the mud gave up a stench.

In a side alley to the left, narrower still, a woman knelt on the ground with a man lying in front of her. His trousers were around his ankles, his legs pale enough to look blue. The woman's head moved up and down, wet sounds rising from the dark.

Another man worked at his belt nearby. His eyes found Brienne as she passed. He grinned, showing half a mouthful of rotten teeth.

"Big one. End of the line."

Brienne didn't stop. Her hand settled on her sword hilt. The man looked at her hand. The grin went away. He spat at the wall.

She quickened her pace through Flea Bottom, took the second fork left, counted fifty paces, and a row of gray stone houses came into view.

She went straight for the one at the back.

She pushed the door open and walked in.

Shae sat on the edge of the bed, putting on her shoes. She wore a pale green dress, thin as gossamer, her black hair braided into a single plait hanging over her chest. No makeup. When the door swung open, her hands paused for a moment, then went back to tying her laces.

"Where are you going?" Brienne said. "Shae."

"I don't know you." Shae didn't look up. She stamped her heel down. "Where I'm going is none of your business."

"I know you." Brienne stood in the doorway, unsmiling. "On the surface, you're Lady Sansa's servant. In truth, you're Tyrion's lover."

Shae raised her head. Her gaze moved from Brienne's face to her sword, then back to that large, square, freckled face. Full armor. A grim expression. Her first thought was a killer sent by Cersei.

Tyrion's voice in her head: Once your identity is exposed, Cersei will make you wish you were dead.

Shae stood, smoothed her skirt, and lifted her chin.

"The Queen Mother sent you? If you know I'm Tyrion's lover, then you know he's the Hand of the King. Whoever you work for, the Hand of the King will make you pay for it."

Brienne shut the door.

The bolt slid home with a clean click.

"I don't work for anyone." She took a step forward. "I'm here to find Lady Sansa."

"Lady Sansa isn't here. She went with Tyrion to the Stormlands."

"They were taken on the road. Khal Drogo captured them." Brienne said. "The Khal released Podrick and sent him to bring you there."

Shae's lashes flickered.

"Is Tyrion all right?" she asked.

"He's fine. He's being treated as an honored guest. He can move freely within Storm's End."

Shae turned away and walked to the window. The alley outside was empty. A stray cat crouched on the wall.

Brienne didn't press her.

After a long moment, Shae turned back. Her black eyes fixed on Brienne's face.

"Where is Podrick?"

"Outside the Mud Gate. He's holding the horses."

"You'd better not be lying to me." Shae went to the bed, reached under the pillow, and pulled out a dagger. She slipped it into her boot.

She packed a few things, walked past Brienne, pulled the door open, and left without looking back.

Brienne followed, keeping ten paces behind.

They moved through Flea Bottom one in front of the other.

A drunk slumped against a wall saw Shae's skirt and reached for her ankle. Brienne's boot came down on his fingers. He howled and didn't try again.

Outside the Mud Gate, Podrick Payne stood beneath a dead oak, holding three horses. His gray was on the far left. The two chestnuts beside it were newly bought, their tack rough but solid, their bellies round and full.

He saw Shae come through the gate. His mouth opened. His throat worked. In the end, he just nodded.

Shae nodded back.

No embrace. No words.

Brienne swung up onto the lead chestnut. Shae mounted the other, quick and clean. She hiked her skirt up and tucked it into her belt, baring her calves and the dagger hilt in her boot. Podrick climbed back onto his gray. Three riders, three horses, turning south.

HYAH!

The hoofbeats raised dust that drifted apart in the sunlight.

A few dozen miles out, the farmland on either side of the Kingsroad gave way to scrub and low woodland. The farther south they rode, the denser it grew. Tree canopies laced together overhead, breaking the afternoon light into scattered bright patches that fell across the ground like shards of broken eggshell.

Shae urged her horse up alongside Brienne.

"Podrick told me your name," she said. "Brienne of Tarth."

"Mm."

"I've heard of you. The only woman in Renly's Rainbow Guard. After Renly died, you killed two of the Rainbow Guard and ran."

Brienne didn't get angry. She was quiet for two seconds, as if deciding whether the words were worth answering.

"I did run," she said. "If I hadn't, I'd have been bound and charged with murder. No one would have listened to me. Renly was killed by a shadow wearing Stannis's face. Lady Catelyn can vouch for that."

When she said Lady Catelyn, her gaze dropped for a moment. Then it came back up.

Podrick was afraid that one more question from Shae would be one too many.

He nudged his horse forward and drew up on Brienne's right. "Lady Brienne... when we left the city, the guards at the gate — why didn't they stop us?"

Brienne didn't answer right away. She checked the road behind them, making sure no one was following, then spoke.

"King's Landing can't spare men to check every person leaving the city right now."

"How can that be? King Joffrey isn't..." Podrick trailed off, not quite sure how to finish.

"Joffrey?" Brienne's voice was flat. "He can't even sit the Iron Throne without looking over his shoulder."

Behind them, Shae tilted her head slightly.

Brienne went on. "Khal Drogo won in the southern Stormlands. The combined army the Dornish and the Stormlands lords scraped together was broken outside Griffin's Roost — cavalry, infantry squares, and dragonflame from the air. Tens of thousands dead. Griffin's Roost has fallen. Crow's Nest too."

Podrick's mouth dropped open. "Then... the Stormlands..."

"Still standing. But not for long. Word coming back says the Horse King is besieging Stonehelm now. If Stonehelm falls, the whole south of the Stormlands is gone."

Brienne glanced back at Shae. "You know Stonehelm?"

"Seat of House Swann," Shae said. "Old Lord Swann's son died on the Blackwater. The current lord is his nephew."

Brienne's eyebrow lifted slightly. She hadn't expected a serving girl to know the Stormlands lords that well.

Shae caught the look. The corner of her mouth moved. "Tyrion tells me everything in bed."

Brienne tugged the reins left to steer around a waterlogged rut in the road. "Cersei's mind is entirely on holding King's Landing. She has no time to question every person walking out the gate. And the news of Tyrion's capture hasn't spread yet. No one's going to notice a servant going missing."

"All of this," Shae said, her voice quiet. "Where did you hear it?"

"Before Podrick came to find you, I sat in a tavern by the Mud Gate for three days. Merchants coming up from the south, deserters, refugees who rowed out of Griffin's Roost. They were all saying the same things."

The three of them rode on.

When the sun was tilting west, they reached a fork where a side road branched off the Kingsroad.

Brienne pointed right. "This way. We find camp before dark and ride again at first light."

On a low rise, she found an abandoned shepherd's hut built from stone. Half the roof had caved in, but the other half still cut the wind.

She sent Podrick to tie the horses in a sheltered hollow behind the hut and went to gather dry wood herself.

Shae sat on the stone threshold, arms around her knees, staring south at nothing.

Brienne got the fire going. From the saddlebags she pulled three pieces of hard bread and a length of dried sausage, sliced them with her knife, and handed portions to the other two.

Podrick took his bread, bit off a piece, and chewed for a long time before swallowing. He stared into the fire. "Lady Brienne. When we get to Storm's End... what will the Horse King do with us?"

"I don't know," Brienne said.

Podrick scratched his head. "What if he won't let you leave?"

Brienne put a slice of sausage in her mouth and chewed slowly. The firelight moved across her large, square face, making the freckles stand out.

"I'm not going there to be a guest. I'm going to find Lady Sansa. When I find her, I'll take her away."

Shae looked at her. "Alone?"

"Alone is enough."

The corner of Shae's mouth curved slightly.

Podrick spoke up again. "Lady Shae."

"What now?"

"That dagger. Did Lord Tyrion give it to you?"

Shae glanced down at the hilt showing above her boot. A small lion carved into it, bronze, worn bright from handling.

"No," she said. "I stole it. That idiot loses things and never thinks to look for them."

A log crackled in the fire, cutting the conversation short.

Wind moved across the high ground and set the flames leaning.

Brienne pulled her cloak tighter and settled back against the ruined stone wall, eyes closing. Her hand stayed on her sword hilt.

➤ Next: Sansa Drogo — Heartbreak