Arya is hunting pigeons on the streets. It’s a good thing Syrio’s training has her so well-prepared for the life of a street urchin. Unfortunately, bakers are not interesting in trading freshly baked tarts for dead pigeons, no matter how fat a pigeon it may be. Imagine that. Luckily for Arya, the baker is fat and unlikely to catch her. Luckily for the baker, two city watch guards are around to make up for any deficiencies in his physique.

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Catelyn, guarded by thirty knights, is waiting for the fighting to end one way (in Robb’s favour) or the other (in Jaime’s favour) and ruminating on all the times she had to wait for her men to come home: her father, Brandon Stark, Ned Stark, now Robb. It’s all very archetypally mediaeval, the fair maiden on the battlements, the men riding off to war. Catelyn is content with waiting, and that makes one of us, because I am bored to tears. Time to skim until something actually happens!

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