If only he could concentrate his forces on one enemy. Lord Stonehouse in the West grew stronger daily. The so-called Mother of Dragons had returned to support him. Though many regarded her as a meddlesome plotter, past her prime, she could be a formidable foe.
And what of Lord Malma? There was a menace in his eerie silence greater than his ranting and threats. Even Lord Herman in the North was flexing his muscles, gathering a ragged army of malcontents.
The kingdom was shrouded in snow and blizzards tore at fields and dwelling places. The White Walkers, it was whispered abroad, were up to their devilry of old. The name of Lord Rupert was but one spoken of in hushed tones.
The Wildings were rampaging through the battered, tormented countryside, looting and burning every village in sight. They were once - loyal citizens and nobles gone rogue, gone wild with greed. Hence the name. The people's cries for help had turned to curses and open, treasonous talk of rebellion.
And where were his generals? Lord Chella seemed to chase every will-'o -the-wisp. His boasts of victories over the Wildings were sounding increasingly hollow. News of fresh Wilding outrages came almost hourly. Lord McGushulla seemed to be as scorned and despised of late as were those marauding bandits. Accusations were being made that he was in alliance with them. Was, in fact, the secret Lord Commander. Lady Endiazed......he held his head in his hands. How had it come to this?
The wind shrieked wildly, as if in mocking reply. A fresh fall of snow blotted out everything beyond the window pane.
So bitterly cold.
So hard this Game Of Clones.
Tips for the blogger gratefully accepted
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