Chapter 142: Listen to my roar
"Don't do this," the woman in the room pleaded. "Stop… stop, oh, please." But her voice was small and weak, and she made no move to push the man away.
Instead, her hands tangled in his messy, bright blond hair, pulling his face toward her breast.
Only then did Bran see her face. It was the queen.
He must have made a sound, a gasp or a shuffle, because Cersei's eyes suddenly snapped open. They stared directly at him, and then she screamed.
Bran tried to curl himself up, to use the strength in his core to hook his legs back onto the gargoyle, but he moved with too much force. His legs slipped, and his entire body plunged downwards.
He flailed, his hand snatching desperately at the edge of the window as his body slammed hard against the stone wall. The impact knocked the wind out of him, a starburst of pain radiating through his chest. He hung there, suspended in the air, clinging to the window lattice with one hand.
Two faces appeared at the window above him.
It was the queen, he saw that now for certain. And he recognized the man beside her. They looked so much alike, standing side-by-side like two halves of a reflection in a mirror.
It was Jaime Lannister, the queen's brother.
"He saw us," Cersei whispered, her voice shrill.
"He saw us," Jaime repeated, his own voice flat.
Bran's fingers began to slip. He reached up with his other hand, hooking it onto the lattice, his nails digging into the hard stone.
Jaime reached down. "Come," he said. "Take my hand. Don't fall."
Bran grabbed his hand with all his might, and Jaime hauled him up onto the ledge.
"What are you doing?" Cersei demanded.
Jaime ignored her. He used his strong hands to steady Bran, helping him stand on the narrow windowsill.
"How old are you, boy?"
"Seven," Bran managed to say, his body still trembling with a mixture of relief and terror. He saw that his nails had dug bloody furrows into the man's arm and quickly, shamefully, let go.
Jaime turned to look at Cersei. "Think carefully about what I have done for love," he said, his voice strained with reluctance. Then, with a sudden, violent motion, he shoved Bran backward into the open air.
Bran screamed as he flew out from the window, tumbling into the void. This time, there was nothing to grab, nothing to hold. The ground rushed up to meet him with dizzying speed.
An instant later, a hoarse shriek tore through the air from the base of the tower, like the desperate howl of a wounded wolf.
Catelyn Tully ran as fast as her legs could carry her, but it wasn't fast enough. She could not reach him before he hit the ground.
Bran's small body crashed onto the hard-packed earth less than five meters in front of her, his life or death an unanswered question.
At that moment, Jaime, drawn by the sound, appeared at the window and met the hate-filled gaze of the she-wolf below. Behind her stood Ser Rodrik Cassel, the master-at-arms of Winterfell, flanked by a full squad of Stark guardsmen.
"Run!" Jaime had never known panic like this. In the next instant, he vanished from the window.
"Run?" Cersei asked, bewildered.
"Get dressed. Just throw something on," he explained, hastily pulling on his own clothes. "Eddard's wife saw me push her son. We have to separate."
"Why is she here?" Cersei asked, the reality of the situation dawning on her. She shrieked, "Run away? You're going to abandon me?"
"If you want to get out of Winterfell alive," Jaime said, grabbing his sword. "You leave in the other direction. Act as if nothing happened."
"I am the queen! What would they dare do to me?" Cersei lunged forward, grabbing his arm.
"If this gets out, do you think Robert will care that you're the queen?" Jaime seized her hand. "Catelyn only saw me. I can fight my way out. You will have had nothing to do with it."
"No!" Her grip tightened, her mind paralyzed by fear. Jaime was her only anchor. "I won't let you leave."
"Damn it!" Jaime fought the urge to shout, hearing the faint but unmistakable sound of rapid footsteps ascending the stairs. "My sweet sister," he said, pulling her into a fierce embrace, his voice a soft, urgent reminder. "Think of Joffrey. Think of Tommen and Myrcella. If Robert finds out about us, what do you think he will do to our children?"
Almost instantly, Cersei's grip on his arm went slack.
"Run! Take the other stairs! You know what I'm capable of. I can fight my way out, but Winterfell cannot hold me." With those final words, Jaime unsheathed his sword and turned to face the guards rushing up the tower.
He met eight of them halfway down the stairs.
He charged forward, a lion crashing into a pack of wolves. With two swift blows, he cut down their captain, then thrust his blade through the chest of another guard and left a third gravely wounded. The sheer strength and ferocity of his attack sent the remaining men stumbling back, and Jaime seized the opening, bursting through their defensive line and storming down the tower.
"Why?" The moment his boots hit the ground, Catelyn's voice reached him.
She was kneeling not far from him, cradling Bran's broken body in her arms. "Why?" she repeated, her voice trembling, her eyes scarlet with grief. "You came to Winterfell as our guests. We gave you bread and salt, a warm hearth. I do not think we failed in our hospitality. So why? Why would you harm my child?"
*Why?* What reason could he possibly give her? He couldn't invent an excuse that would be anything but a hollow lie.
So Jaime simply ignored her question and sprinted toward the unguarded section of the courtyard. He needed to draw every eye, to create a diversion so Cersei could slip away unnoticed. He needed to find a horse and break out of Winterfell before the entire castle was on alert.
If he could just make it back to Casterly Rock, the final outcome might not be so grim.
Catelyn saw his intent. "Get him! Get him now!" she screamed at Ser Rodrik.
"But my lady, your safety—" the knight hesitated.
"Get him! Do not let him escape!" she insisted.
"You! Notify the patrols! Tell them to seal the gates and send more men!" Ser Rodrik ordered one of his guards before waving two others to follow him as he gave chase.
"Kingslayer! Will you abandon your lover and flee alone?"
A voice from behind made Jaime Lannister skid to a halt.
*Lover?*
He spun around and saw Cersei. She was naked, held firmly between several guardsmen as they escorted her toward Catelyn.
"Lady Catelyn," the captain of the new guards reported, "we found this woman in the room where the Kingslayer was. Your Grace, I believe Young Master Bran was silenced by the Kingslayer after stumbling upon their tryst during his climb."
Jaime couldn't hear the man's words. He could only stare at the sight of Cersei, captured and exposed.
She was dressed when he left her! What had happened? Had these northern bastards stripped her naked?
How dare they?
Jaime felt the blood boil in his veins. The soul of the lion within him was roaring.
"Kill them all! Jaime, kill them!" Cersei, seemingly delirious from her ordeal, looked up and saw him. A mad, wild look entered her eyes as she shrieked the command.
All thought of escape vanished from Jaime's mind. Rage consumed reason. He would cut these bastards into pieces.
"Take him!" Seeing that Jaime was no longer running, Ser Rodrik shouted the order. Bolstered by the guards who had captured the queen and the men who had come down from the tower, his forces now numbered twenty strong.
They formed a circle around Jaime, but no one dared to be the first to face his blade.
The next moment, with a guttural roar, Jaime Lannister charged headfirst into the wall of his enemies.
In the courtyard below, the lion roared.
High above on the ruined tower, the crows began to circle.
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