Tony t Maester Aemon in a large room packed with books and scrolls. The old man was well over a hundred, and Tony already knew his secret from the Citadel records. Aemon was a Targaryen who had served the Watch his entire life and never once tried to go south, even after his family's dynasty burned.
Aemon's attendant helped him sit. Benjen spoke first. "Maester, Tony's here."
"Ah. Good. Did you bring it?" Aemon's blind eyes turned toward them. "I dread you would need it, Benjen. Out in the wild."
Tony leaned forward. "You an dragon dreams?"
Aemon chuckled and patted the bench beside him. "Sit. Both of you. Show what you have."
Tony opened the long case. Inside were two slim canisters connected to a belt, with three spare blades mounted on top. It looked simple. It wasn't.
Aemon ran his fingers over the tal. "This lets a man move through trees like a monkey?"
"Exactly," Tony said. "Only works where there are tall trees or big structures. Flat ground is useless."
"What do you call it?"
"The maneuvering rig."
Aemon's nose twitched. "And the fuel?"
"Wildfire."
Benjen went pale. "Wildfire? Are you insane? That stuff is—"
"—the only thing that won't freeze solid out here," Tony finished. "Everything else turns to ice. Wildfire keeps burning."
Benjen looked like he wanted to argue, then sighed. He had lost too many rangers to cold, beasts, and wildlings. He knew what Tony was trying to fix.
Tony opened the second case. Inside lay a compact repeating crossbow. "This one's older. From the East. Fires ten bolts before you have to reload. Nad after the man who invented it."
Benjen picked it up like it was made of gold. "Ten shots…"
Aemon was quiet for a long mont. "The East still holds secrets we've forgotten."
"Tomorrow we start training a few veterans with the rig," Tony said. "Once they're steady, we go beyond the Wall and see what's really out there."
Back at Riverrun, the fight had turned ugly.
Lady and Nyria rolled across the grass, teeth locked, blood on white fur. Sansa grabbed a fallen stick and swung it at Nyria to protect her wolf. Arya saw red and charged her sister with her own practice sword.
The two direwolves tore at each other while the Stark girls did the sa.
Myrcella scread for help.
Joffrey and the Hound appeared from the other path. The prince grinned at the chaos. "Look at that, Hound. Wolf blood runs true. Stay back, Myrcella. You'll get hurt."
"Joffrey, stop them!" Myrcella begged, tugging his sleeve.
The Hound stepped in, caught both wooden swords in his huge hands, and snapped them away like kindling. He tossed them into the river.
Sansa stumbled back and fell when she saw his burned face up close. Arya didn't flinch. "That was our fight!"
The Hound laughed. Joffrey laughed louder.
Then both direwolves lunged at the Hound's legs. He snarled, drew his sword, and raised it high.
Sansa's scream stopped him. "No!"
The wolves backed off and returned to their girls. The Hound lowered his blade, breathing hard.
Far across the sea, Daenerys sat reading How to Train Your Dragon when Illyrio arrived with three dragon eggs.
Viserys stared at them like they had been stolen from him. "You had dragon eggs all this ti? Why give them to her and not ?"
Illyrio smiled the smile of a man who had just made a very large investnt. "The ti was not right before, Your Grace. Now it is."
Daenerys picked up the black egg. For a second she thought she felt a heartbeat inside. She gasped and dropped it. Jorah caught it before it hit the ground and handed it back.
She looked at him. "Where did you get the book, Ser Jorah?"
"Bear Island. I was exiled by Lord Eddard Stark for selling slaves. His nephew is the one who wrote these books. Tony Stark. Youngest maester in Citadel history."
Daenerys held the egg in one hand and the book in the other. Even with her young face, sothing regal moved behind her eyes.
"I want to et this Tony Stark," she said. "If he swears to the Dragon King, I will forgive whatever cris my enemies say he committed."
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