Tonight the Quiet Isle lived up to its name. During the day the brothers did not speak, of course, but they still made noise as they went about their business, tending to everyday duties. Birds waded in the shallows or flew overhead, calling out to each other. The sheep, cows, horses, and bees on the island made their own conversation as well. As Brienne trudged up the slope to her cottage, though, she felt like the only person in the world. The only sounds were the wind, the faint lapping of water, and her own footsteps.
When last she’d walked this path she’d appreciated the chance to stretch her legs, but now the journey tired her. Her wounds from Biter’s attack were still healing. The Elder Brother had seen to her, as well as Jaime and Podrick. She’d insisted he treat her last; Podrick was the worst off. After the battle they’d found him unconscious- Brienne had been certain for one sickening moment that he was dead- but he’d woken up when they took him up to the surface. He had a broken leg but something else seemed to be wrong, a persistent shortness of breath she didn’t know what to do with. The Brotherhood had scattered to the wind, but there was no guarantee some of those men wouldn’t come after them again. So they’d come here, for the chance to recover for a few days before resuming their journey. Brienne sat against the curved wall of the woman’s cottage, sipping at the cider that had been left for her.
There was a noise outside. Perhaps it was nothing, perhaps it wasn’t even there, but she thought she’d heard something. Her skin prickled as she set down her cup and reached for her sword. “Who’s out there?”
