Bran

           Themorninghaddawnedclearandcold, withacrispnessthathintedattheendofsummer. Theysetforthatdaybreaktoseeamanbeheaded, twentyinall,andBranrodeamongthem,nervouswithexcitement. Thiswasthefirsttimehehadbeendeemedoldenoughtogowithhislordfatherandhisbrotherstoseetheking’sjusticedone. Itwastheninthyearofsummer,andtheseventhofBran’slife. 

           Themanhadbeentakenoutsideasmallholdfastinthehills. Robbthoughthewasawildling,hisswordsworntoManceRayder,theKing-beyond-the-Wall. ItmadeBran’sskinprickletothinkofit. HerememberedthehearthtalesOldNantoldthem. Thewildlingswerecruelmen,shesaid,slaversandslayersandthieves. Theyconsortedwithgiantsandghouls,stolegirlchildreninthedeadofnight,anddrankbloodfrompolishedhorns. AndtheirwomenlaywiththeOthersintheLongNighttosireterriblehalf-humanchildren. 

           Butthemantheyfoundboundhandandfoottotheholdfastwall awaitingtheking’sjusticewasoldandscrawny,notmuchtallerthanRobb. Hehadlostbothearsandafingertofrostbite,andhedressedallinblack,thesameasabrotheroftheNight’sWatch, exceptthathisfurswereraggedandgreasy. 

           Thebreathofmanandhorsemingled,steaming,inthecoldmorningair ashislordfatherhadthemancutdownfromthewallanddraggedbeforethem. RobbandJonsattallandstillontheirhorses, withBranbetweenthemonhispony,tryingtoseemolderthanseven, tryingtopretendthathe’dseenallthisbefore.