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Tyrion

           TyrionLannisterwasnotpleasedbymuchofwhathesaw.ThestreetsofKing’sLandinghadalwaysbeenteemingandraucousandnoisy,butnowtheyreekedofdangerinawaythathedidnotrecallfrompastvisits.AnakedcorpsesprawledinthegutterneartheStreetofLooms,beingtornatbyapackofferaldogs,yetnooneseemedtocare.Watchmenweremuchinevidence,movinginpairsthroughthealleysintheirgoldcloaksandshirtsofblackringmail,ironcudgelsneverfarfromtheirhands.Themarketswerecrowdedwithraggedmensellingtheirhouseholdgoodsforanypricetheycouldget...andconspicuouslyemptyoffarmerssellingfood.Whatlittleproducehedidseewasthreetimesascostlyasithadbeenayearago.Onepeddlerwashawkingratsroastedonaskewer."Freshrats,"hecriedloudly,"freshrats."Doubtlessfreshratsweretobepreferredtooldstalerottenrats.Thefrighteningthingwas,theratslookedmoreappetizingthanmostofwhatthebutcherswereselling.OntheStreetofFlour,Tyrionsawguardsateveryothershopdoor.Whentimesgrewlean,evenbakersfoundsellswordscheaperthanbread,hereflected.

           "Thereisnofoodcomingin,isthere?"hesaidtoVylarr.

           "Littleenough,"thecaptainadmitted."WiththewarintheriverlandsandLordRenlyraisingrebelsinHighgarden,theroadsareclosedtosouthandwest."

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