A Clash of Kings
Authors: George R. R. Martin
A Clash of Kings
Fire and Ice
Book II
George R.R. Martin
Content
Chapter One
Arya
Chapter Two
Sansa
Chapter Three
Tyrion
Chapter Four
Bran
Chapter Five
Arya
Chapter Six
Jon
Chapter Seven
Catelyn
Chapter Eight
Tyrion
Chapter Nine
Arya
Chapter Ten
Davos
Chapter Eleven
Theon
Chapter Twelve
Daenerys
Chapter Thirteen
Jon
Chapter Fourteen
Arya
Chapter Fifteen
Tyrion
Chapter Sixteen
Bran
Chapter Seventeen
Tyrion
Chapter Eighteen
Sansa
Chapter Nineteen
Arya
Chapter Twenty
Tyrion
Chapter Twenty One
Bran
Chapter Twenty Two
Catelyn
Chapter Twenty Three
Jon
Chapter Twenty Four
Theon
Chapter Twenty Five
Tyrion
Chapter Twenty Six
Arya
Chapter Twenty Seven
Daenerys
Chapter Twenty Eight
Bran
Chapter Twenty Nine
Tyrion
Chapter Thirty
Arya
Chapter Thirty One
Catelyn
Chapter Thirty Two
Sansa
Chapter Thirty Three
Catelyn
Chapter Thirty Four
Jon
Chapter Thirty Five
Bran
Chapter Thirty Six
Tyrion
Chapter Thirty Seven
Theon
Chapter Thirty Eight
Arya
Chapter Thirty Nine
Catelyn
Chapter Forty
Daenerys
Chapter Forty One
Tyrion
Chapter Forty Two
Davos
Chapter Forty Three
Jon
Chapter Forty Four
Tyrion
Chapter Forty Five
Catelyn
Chapter Forty Six
Bran
Chapter Forty Seven
Arya
Chapter Forty Eight
Daenerys
Chapter Forty Nine
Tyrion
Chapter Fifty
Theon
Chapter Fifty One
Jon
Chapter Fifty Two
Sansa
Chapter Fifty Three
Jon
Chapter Fifty Four
Tyrion
Chapter Fifty Five
Catelyn
Chapter Fifty Six
Theon
Chapter Fifty Seven
Sansa
Chapter Fifty Eight
Davos
Chapter Fifty Nine
Tyrion
Chapter Sixty
Sansa
Chapter Sixty One
Tyrion
Chapter Sixty Two
Sansa
Chapter Sixty Three
Daenerys
Chapter Sixty Four
Arya
Chapter Sixty Five
Sansa
Chapter Sixty Six
Theon
Chapter Sixty Seven
Tyrion
Chapter Sixty Eight
Jon
Chapter Sixty Nine
Bran
The comet’s tail spread across the dawn, a red slash that bled above the crags of Dragonstone like a wound in the pink and purple sky.
The maester stood on the windswept balcony outside his chambers. It was here the ravens came, after long flight. Their droppings speckled the gargoyles that rose twelve feet tall on either side of him, a hellhound and a wyvern, two of the thousand that brooded over the walls of the ancient fortress. When first he came to Dragonstone, the army of stone grotesques had made him uneasy, but as the years passed he had grown used to them. Now he thought of them as old friends. The three of them watched the sky together with foreboding.
The maester did not believe in omens. And yet . . . old as he was, Cressen had never seen a comet half so bright, nor yet that color, that terrible color, the color of blood and flame and sunsets. He wondered if his gargoyles had ever seen its like. They had been here so much longer than he had, and would still be here long after he was gone. If stone tongues could speak . . .
