"Bran, sweet child, one day Lord Eddard will sit below in stone, beside his father and his father's father and all the Starks back to the old Kings in the North... but that will not be for many years, gods be good. Your father is a prisoner of the queen in King's Landing. You will not find him in the crypts."
He was there last night. I talked to him.
Stubborn boy, the maester sighed, setting his book aside. "Would you like to go see?"
I can't. Hodor won't go, and the steps are too narrow and twisty for Dancer.
I believe I can solve that difficulty.
In place of Hodor, the wildling woman Osha was summoned. She was tall and tough and uncomplaining, willing to go wherever she was commanded. "I lived my life beyond the Wall, a hole in the ground won't fret me none, m'lords," she said.
Summer, come, Bran called as she lifted him in wiry-strong arms. The direwolf left his bone and followed as Osha carried Bran across the yard and down the spiral steps to the cold vault under the earth. Maester Luwin went ahead with a torch. Bran did not even mind, too badly, that she carried him in her arms and not on her back. Sir Rodrik had ordered Osha's chain struck off, since she had served faithfully and well since she had been at Winterfell. She still wore the heavy iron shackles around her ankles, a sign that she was not yet wholly trusted, but they did not hinder her sure strides down the steps.