""You'd kill twenty men?"" Dunk said, incredulous."
"""Twenty– two. That's two more'n all your fingers and your toes, lunk. You have to kill them all, else they go telling tales"". They circled round a deadfall. ""We should of told Ser Useless the drought dried up his little pissant stream"".
""Ser Eustace . You would have lied to him"".
""Aye, and why not? Who's to tell him any different? The flies?"" Bennis grinned a wet red grin. ""Ser Useless never leaves the tower, except to see the boys down in the blackberries"".
""A sworn sword owes his lord the truth"".
""There's truths and truths, lunk. Some don't serve"". He spat. ""The gods make droughts. A man can't do a bloody buggering thing about the gods. The Red Widow, though… we tell Useless that bitch dog took his water, he'll feel honor-bound to take it back. Wait and see. He'll think he's got to do something "".
""He should. Our smallfolk need that water for their crops"".
"" Our smallfolk?"" Ser Bennis brayed his laughter. ""Was I off having a squat when Ser Useless made you his heir? How many smallfolk you figure you got? Ten? And that's counting Squinty Jeyne's half-wit son that don't know which end o' the ax to hold.
""I don't need toes to count"". Dunk was sick of the heat, the flies, and the brown knight's company.
Standfast was a castle only by courtesy. Though it stood bravely atop a rocky hill and could be seen for leagues around, it was no more than a towerhouse. A partial collapse a few centuries ago had required some rebuilding, so the north and west faces were pale gray stone above the windows, and the old black stone below.
A crooked path led from the foot of the hill up to the tower, so narrow it could only be ridden single file.