Episode #3.4

Keep going!

Bring it on down!

- That's it! - Come on!

- Keep moving! - Back into it.

Three more in here.

Three more in there.

You, go with them!

Two more in here.

Two more in here.

You three, in this one.

Oh, please, please.

Our home, it's already crowded.

There's 15,000 of us.

Be glad you only got three.

- Maybe crowded ain't so bad. - Mind yourself.

You don't like it, go and carp to Lord Ormund.

See what good it does you.

It is only regarding the lodging situation, my lord.

You are unhappy with your lodgings, Lord Footly?

It is only that we are very fond of our ancestral home.

You are sleeping in our bedchamber.

You bent the knee to the pretender, Rhaenyra Targaryen,

did you not, Lady Footly?

We did.

Then mayhaps I should remind you that the wage of treason is death.

We do not seek conflict, my lord.

Tumbleton has no battlements.

Our people know only trade.

We never thought to see war.

So you swore to her out of fear.

We swore because she is the queen.

Is she?

Or is she a bitch with a dragon?

My purpose is to restore the rightful line to the Iron Throne.

It follows from that that I must be well rested.

It follows from that that I must have acceptable lodgings.

I will ensure that my men remain on their best behavior

whilst in your town.

Provided, of course...

that you remain on yours.

See them out.

Don't.

When dealing with those beneath you, you must be fair, but firm.

Yes, sire.

My prince.

My lord, a raven from Storm's End

carrying more excuses from Lord Borros Baratheon.

That lackwit sealed a marriage pact between Prince Aemond

and one of his horse-faced daughters.

And yet, where is he now?

Send another raven that he can understand.

This one mayhaps with drawings rather than letters.

What word from Harrenhal?

If Vhagar does not come, our defenses will not hold.

Do not be disheartened, Daeron.

Your brother will join us soon.

Why seize Tumbleton?

It's no stronghold. It's a market town.

Its lord is meek. Its walls are poorly defended.

Hightower may as well paint a rondel on his chest.

Why?

Does he mean to somehow win their support?

He dares me to rain fire down on a seat that raised my banner.

And the realm would name me "Maegor Returned."

They'd rise up against me.

And the same gods who delivered me to the throne

would rightly cast me down.

If I may.

Your Grace, Prince Daemon's river host marches on King's Landing.

Tumbleton is not much further.

If his men were to go there instead...

Mm, it would not be bloodless,

but it would be far more merciful than sending dragons.

We march on the town

and root out the Hightowers house to house.

It's a good scheme.

Send orders to Lord Tully.

Orwyle?

For as long as you remain loyal and useful...

you may take your place at my council and retain the title of Grand Maester.

The castle's ravens remain your charge,

but the Lady Mysaria should be kept informed of the comings and goings.

Ah.

Relics of a dead regime.

It will take the Rivermen weeks to reach Tumbleton.

Let us send a dragon to keep vigil.

Ormund may have the town under siege,

but he shall not leave except I remove him.

In the meantime, we have urgent matters at home.

We have secured some small store of oil

- for the markets, but-- - Where is the Hand?

Gods, this council's thin.

Name a Master of Coin.

The people will soon discover our lacking resources.

They can blame him.

Investigate Ser Torrhen Manderly.

He's intrigued me.

If he's fit, let the gold be his concern as well as Daemon's.

Mine shall be Ormund Hightower.

I know him as well as you.

I doubt that.

Viserys warded your son to him. I've never met the man.

I knew him very little, a long time ago.

After my father took me to court, I rarely saw Oldtown.

Tell me what you do know.

He sees himself as a scholar.

He studies the histories,

he collects tapestries, writes ballads,

despises the ignorant and uncouth.

When we were young, Gwayne thought him cruel,

but Gwayne thought that of many.

How is he with Daeron?

Fatherly, I'm told.

Daeron was only a babe when he took him to ward.

What is it?

Oh, look at this.

Did it pain you to have to send your child away?

It was my choice.

Why?

I bore Viserys three Targaryens.

But with the last, my last...

I wanted him to be a Hightower.

In truth, I'm glad I waged that battle, seeing now what came of our other sons.

Perhaps sending Daeron away was my truest act of motherhood.

Though I do not know now what fate that choice has consigned him.

You know I would have spared him.

He has a sensitivity to odors.

Ormund.

A very strong one.

My Lord Hand, the queen has requested your presence at her small council.

I'm her Hand, not her mouth.

Leave the talking to those who relish it.

Shall I return with this message? That you refuse the queen?

Rather that I serve more effectively.

Her strength lies in dragons now.

She has less need of a man of the sea.

But my son shall attend her in my stead.

You certainly look the part.

I am not a creature of the court.

I don't know what I'm doing.

There is great opportunity for you there.

I cannot give you legitimacy,

but I can give you the chance to better yourself.

Anger is not something that can be ended with a blade, my lord.

Move out!

Come on!

My boy.

I'm here.

I'm here.

It's a penny to touch the dragon.

Nothing's free in these woods.

He can sit the saddle for a halfgroat.

Touch will suffice.

Thank you.

We seek shelter.

Which way to Rook's Rest?

He's got both hands on him.

That's two touches.

What's wrong with your leg?

You can kill a man of the Faith for a few pennies, if you wish.

Though I doubt the gods would look kindly upon it.

You don't look like a septon.

He's alive.

I know it. He's alive, he must be.

- Sunfyre. - There, there, Gregor.

Wake up, Sunfyre. I'm here.

Let us trouble these good folk no further, hm?

Wake up, Sunfyre. I'm here.

Simple.

What's he saying?

Sunfyre, come back to me.

Wake up, I'm here. I know you're in there.

We must tarry no longer. The danger is great.

I am very sorry, but you must accept what is before you.

Wake up.

You wanted to see him, you've seen him.

- He's dead. - No.

Will you stay and rot with him?

Will you get up and live?

Are you lost?

Where is the castellan?

Slain.

He who succeeds him then.

Slain.

And the one who succeeds him as well.

And who are you?

A steward, of a sort.

It's the best you can do at the moment.

This is the Hand of the King.

We seek the Prince Aemond.

As I'm sure do many.

He was meant to meet us here.

If you know where he is,

I'd advise you to be forthcoming.

He was here.

He seized the castle after Prince Daemon abandoned it,

but when he learned that Rhaenyra took King's Landing,

- he and his dragon fled. - When Rhaenyra took King's Landing?

Oh, my.

Oh, you didn't know.