living sons (minus Ser Perwyn, who would have made twenty-one), thirty-six grandsons, nineteen564 GEORGE R. Bran felt a sudden dread. Lord Randyll let me hold it a few times, but it always scared me. Between them, pikemen formed squares; behind were rank on rank of men-at-arms with spear and sword and axe.
He remembered the hearth tales Old Nan told them. Masha Heddle was beside herself. Catelyn envied him that; she had come to fear so much. He was a veteran of a hundred rangings by now, and the endless dark wilderness that the southron called the haunted forest had no more terrors for him.
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