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' Chung nodded, opened his trembling hand and showed the other what he was holding a pig-bristle hairbrush whose oval wooden plaque fitted snug in his palm.
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Our escorts, too, exchange glances, unsure what to do. The birds circle, flying over us as the lieutenant, now underneath them, fires again. You raise your gun and fire.
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A man has a right to vengeance. But he slew a guest beneath his roof, and that the gods cannot forgive. We should sleep, joien said solemnly, after they were full.
I need to sleep. A few hours, at least. He could go to Maester Aemon for some dreamwine, that would help. I am going down to the King's Tower, he told them.