A slog through 1000 pages of genealogies and minor characters failing in their plots. Isn’t THE WHOLE DAMN POINT that all this bickering about the Iron Throne is pointless while the true threats are creeping down from the North? There’s some good stuff — about 100 pages worth — but there’s far, far too much of:
“Aye, my lady,” the septon said. “The river moved. Seventy years ago, it was. Or was it eighty? It was when old Masha Heddle’s grandfather kept the place. It was her who told me all this history. A kindly woman, Masha, fond of sourleaf and honey cakes. When she did not have a room for me, she would let me sleep beside the hearth, and she never send me on my way without some bread and cheese and a few stale cakes.”
“Is she the innkeep now?” asked Podrick.
“No. The lions hanged her….”