"I'm in agreement," Oliver said. "You make sure Jorah doesn't catch a cut. I'll take care of the Blessed fools, if you'll buy time for me."
"Do not worry for me, Ser," Jorah said firmly. "It is you that they are after. To keep you alive would mean to repel their purpose. I would succumb to a thousand poisons if I could simply achieve that."
Oliver drew his sword. "I'd rather you didn't succumb to any of them."
He heard a voice in his head, laughing louder than Alistar. Excited. Thirty. Hungry. All inadequate words to describe the want that Ingolsol had.
"Yes, yes, yes!" He shouted. "This is it, boy. Don't you hold out on me now. Don't you dare. I've kept you alive for this – we've kept alive for this. Allow me this moment, make it run red with blood."
