Chapter 180

Several days later, at dawn.

The Eyrie held a hurried and somewhat meagre funeral. Lady Lysa had fallen more than a thousand feet; by the time her remains were found, little more than a few bones the wolves had not carried off remained.

In the council chamber Domeric and the assembled lords of the Vale gathered once more. A grave council was held about a great oak table. The moment had come to decide the future of the Vale. The question before them was plain: in the war between the West and the Riverlands, should the Vale take the field?