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Arya

           Gotmeasilverstagsayshedon’tstaydeadthistimeneither."

           AryadidnotknowwhoBloodyMummerswereuntilafortnightlater,whenthequeerestcompanyofmenshe’deverseenarrivedatHarrenhal.Beneaththestandardofablackgoatwithbloodyhornsrodecoppermenwithbellsintheirbraids;lancersastridestripedblack-and-whitehorses;bowmenwithpowderedcheeks;squathairymenwithshaggyshields;brown-skinnedmeninfeatheredcloaks;awispyfoolingreen-and-pinkmotley;swordsmenwithfantasticforkedbeardsdyedgreenandpurpleandsilver;spearmenwithcoloredscarsthatcoveredtheircheeks;aslendermaninsepton’srobes,afatherlyoneinmaester’sgrey,andasicklyonewhoseleathercloakwasfringedwithlongblondhair.

           Attheirheadwasamanstick-thinandverytall,withadrawnemaciatedfacemadeevenlongerbytheropyblackbeardthatgrewfromhispointedchinnearlytohiswaist.Thehelmthathungfromhissaddlehornwasblacksteel,fashionedintheshapeofagoat’shead.Abouthisneckheworeachainmadeoflinkedcoinsofmanydifferentsizes,shapes,andmetals,andhishorsewasoneofthestrangeblack-and-whiteones.

           "Youdon’twanttoknowthatlot,Weasel,"Weesesaidwhenhesawherlookingatthegoat-helmedman.Twoofhisdrinkingfriendswerewithhim,men-at-armsinservicetoLordLefford.

           "Whoarethey?"sheasked.

           Oneofthesoldierslaughed."TheFootmen,girl.ToesoftheGoat.

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