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Tyrion

           Archersofftheshipssurroundedthem,loosingtheirshaftsatwhateverdefendersshowedthemselvesonthegatehousewalls."Lances,"Tyrioncommanded.Hespedtoacanter.

           Thegroundwassoddenandslippery,equalpartsmudandblood.Hisstallionstumbledoveracorpse,hishoovesslidingandchurningtheearth,andforaninstantTyrionfearedhischargewouldendwithhimtumblingfromthesaddlebeforeheevenreachedthefoe,butsomehowheandhishorsebothmanagedtokeeptheirbalance.Beneaththegatemenwereturning,hurriedlytryingtobracefortheshock.Tyrionliftedhisaxeandshouted,"King’sLanding!"Othervoicestookupthecry,andnowthearrowheadflew,alongscreamofsteelandsilk,poundinghoovesandsharpbladeskissedbyfire.

           SerMandondroppedthepointofhislanceatthelastpossibleinstant,anddroveJoffrey’sbannerthroughthechestofamaninastuddedjerkin,liftinghimfulloffhisfeetbeforetheshaftsnapped.AheadofTyrionwasaknightwhosesurcoatshowedafoxpeeringthrougharingofflowers.Florentwashisfirstthought,buthelmlessranaclosesecond.Hesmashedthemaninthefacewithalltheweightofaxeandarmandcharginghorse,takingoffhalfhishead.Theshockofimpactnumbedhisshoulder.Shaggawouldlaughatme,hethought,ridingon.

           Aspearthuddedagainsthisshield.Podgallopedbesidehim,slashingdownateveryfoetheypassed.Dimly,heheardcheersfromthemenonthewalls.

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