CHAPTER 11: JAIME

Jaime spots the Inn of the Kneeling Man and urges a stop. Inside, a squatters’ duo—a wary boy with a crossbow and a sallow man with a cleaver—serve horsemeat, stale bread, and ale. They share grim river news: outlaws, burned boats, the Lightning Lord and Thoros, and shifting control at the ruby ford.

Brienne intends to reach Maidenpool by river, but the warnings and her suspicions change their course. In the stable they find three poor mounts, including a fine palfrey with a bloodstained saddle. Brienne pays three gold dragons and trades their skiff for all three horses and provisions, refusing beds despite Ser Cleos’s pleas. At the smithy, she splits Jaime’s ankle chain but leaves his wrists bound.

They ride east by moonlight, then choose the southern road—contrary to the squatter’s advice—believing the woods to be a trap. Skirting a lit towerhouse, they press on until halting in a grove without a fire. Over a meager meal, Jaime needles Brienne about her vows and Renly’s murder, while she condemns him as Kingslayer; he counters bitterly, claiming the white cloak soiled him, not the reverse.

Jaime’s thoughts turn to the past: Cersei’s scheme to place him in the Kingsguard to keep them together, Tywin’s fury and resignation, and Jaime’s isolation with the mad Aerys. He recalls killing the alchemist Hand Rossart and then Aerys to stop wildfire and end the madness, and sitting the Iron Throne until Eddard Stark arrived, an act that cemented his infamy.

Haunted by dreams of burning dead, Jaime wakes to Brienne’s boot and a cold rain. They eat quickly and mount up before dawn, continuing their perilous journey toward King’s Landing.