The Eyrie’s jail cells are built in such a way that they double as a torture device: they have three walls, one drop to the death, and one mean, stupid jailer who’s been starving Tyrion by throwing his food off the deathly drop side for mean, stupid laughs. Tyrion reacts with a mixture of sarcastic disdain (Tyrion) and prideful fury (Lannister). A Lannister always pays his debts (that’s not the book, that’s just me, don’t drink), but as far as I’m aware, Mord is still being a Karma Houdini. I know he doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things and GRRM is busy cutting a swath through the major players, but I hope he doesn’t forget to balance the books on this one before the end.

Here’s a question: if Jon Arryn is as noble as Ned keeps saying, why does Mord have the job? It’s possible he’s a very recent Lysa hire, but I have the impression he’s been doing this for a while. Maybe I’m wrong, I’m not quite as omniscient as I like to be when reading grand epics; it’s why I enjoy rereading, I like to feel I have god’s point of view.

Tyrion is in the “dungeons” because he started a battle of wits with Lysa and Ickle Bobbikins, and though they came unarmed with wits, they were plenty armed with henchmen and sky cells that drive men mad. Since Lysa never has much sense and Tyrion didn’t back at that moment, he’s only really alive because Catelyn thought it imprudent to kill him outright.

Tyrion worries about the people outside handling his situation. He doesn’t have much faith in either Cersei or Jaime’s mental acuity to navigate through the situation instead of starting a war over Lannister pride. Tyrion, I don’t mean to depress you, but you might want to remember that your sister and father hate your guts. It probably would suit them just fine to have you killed by someone else without them having to pay for it, even if they have to go to war afterward.

Tyrion’s analysis of the deaths is that Lord Arryn’s, if it really was unnatural, was very well masked. The attempt on Bran, on the other hand, was clumsy. “Unbelievably clumsy.” “Peculiar.” Do you more emphasis for additional “hmmm? HMMMM?” Because there were some italics thrown in there too.

Deciding to take control of his own destiny, Tyrion attempts to bribe Mord, not to escape but to deliver a message from Tyrion to Lysa. Mord whips Tyrion, knocking him unconscious at one point, insisting that Tyrion is a liar trying to cheat him, but is ultimately persuaded of the gold’s theoretical existence. I don’t think Mord was really trying to beat the truth out of Tyrion, I think he was just angry that he was forced to think and thinking must hurt when you’re Mord.

The message is simple: Tyrion wishes to confess to his crimes. Not that he really does, he just knows he needs to get things moving and that can’t be done from a madness-inducing cell. It works, because Ser Vardis, the head of the Arryn guards I understand, arrives to bring him in front of Lysa. Tyrion uses the moment to manipulate Mord into giving him back the fur cloak he stole at the first opportunity. It’s a minor thing that I usually skip in the recaps, but I love it when Tyrion’s being clever.

Tyrion is brought to the main hall, where Lysa is surrounded by pretty much all of her vassal lords, her uncle, Catelyn, and all the people who were with Catelyn on the road, the ones initially left at the foot of the mountain now having made it up. So what was the point of having Catelyn let Bronn rudely muscle his way into coming along if he would’ve ascended in time for this anyway? Were we just supposed to see it as an example of Bronn not having any reverence or fear of the highborn nobles? Bronn and Tyrion, by the way, exchange significant glances.

Tyrion obviously doesn’t mean to confess to anything, instead he demands a trial as befits a man of his birth. That doesn’t worry Lysa too much, if found guilty, he can be executed on the spot by being shoved out of the hole in the floor. Unfortunately for Tyrion the odds of him being found guilty are really, really good: Ickle Bobbikins gets to be the sole judge and he’s an unhinged six-year-old who likes to watch people be dropped through the hole into the night sky. If Ned were here, he’d insist that Ickle Bobbikins has to shove the people into the holes himself, the person to pass judgement has to carry it out and all that. Somehow, I don’t think the boy would have any problem with that.

Of course, Tyrion does not plan to put his fate into the hands of a bloodthirsty child, instead he wants trial by combat. Ferocious as he was in skirmishes with the ruffians on the road, he’s probably no match for any of Lysa Arryn’s knights in a one-on-one match. It’s a pity that GRRM decided not to keep Tyrion a ninja, otherwise this could have been the redux of the Yoda/Count Dooku fight form the third Star Wars prequel. A whole bunch of knights trip over themselves in their rush to get glory by killing a man half their height who’s been starved in a cold cell. Tyrion is sad that people don’t like him. Don’t be sad, Tyrion, I like you. Lysa appoints Ser Vardis, who didn’t ask for the “honour” and refuses it when given, for all the reasons I just mocked. Also for all the reasons I just mocked, Tyrion invokes his right to a champion. If Ned were here, there would be none of this champion nonsense, it would be Ickle Bobbikins versus The Imp. Wouldn’t we all love to see Ickle Bobbikins fly?

Tyrion demands Jaime as his champion, which was his plan all along, both buying himself some time and ensuring that his family knows where he is. Plus, Jaime is almost undefeated, excepting that one time he was emasculated by the prettiest knight in the land. This is where his plan grinds to a halt, because Lysa is no mood to accommodate him. He gets a champion, but only if he can find one right there right now. Tyrion thinks that there may be a flaw in his plan, but then Bronn cements their bromance (or should I say… Bronnmance? Ba-dum-cha!) by accepting the role.