Scenario:Griff would not have fooled the cockless wonder for an instant, no more than it did me. No lord, my lordship says, no knight. And Im no dwarf. Just saying a thing does not make it true. Who better to raise Prince Rhaegars infant son than Prince Rhaegars dear friend Jon Connington, once Lord of Griffins Roost and Hand of the King? Be quiet. Griffs voice was uneasy. On the larboard side of the boat, a huge stone hand was visible just below the water. Two fingers broke the surface. How many of those are there? Tyrion wondered. A trickle of moisture ran down his spine and made him shudder. The Sorrows drifted by them. Peering through the mists, he glimpsed a broken spire, a headless hero, an ancient tree torn from the ground and upended, its huge roots twisting through the roof and windows of a broken dome. Why does all of this seem so familiar? Straight on, a tilted stairway of pale marble rose up out of the dark water in a graceful spiral, ending abruptly ten feet above their heads. No, thought Tyrion, that is not possible. Ahead. Lemores voice was shivery. A light. All of them...