"All I did was drink. . . I only drank some wine. . . you have no witness."
"As it happens, you're wrong there. . . . Milady?" . . . When she lowered her hood, something tightened in Merrett's chest, and for a moment he could not breathe. No. No, I saw her die. She was dead for a day and night before they stripped her naked and threw her body in the river. Raymund opened her throat from ear to ear. She was dead.
. . . But her eyes were the most terrible thing. Her eyes saw him, and they hated.
. . ."What do you say, m'lady? was he part of it?"
Lady Catelyn's eyes never left him. She nodded.
Merrett Frey opened his mouth to plead, but the noose choked off his words. His feet left the ground, the rope cutting into the soft flesh beneath his chin. Up into the air he jerked, kicking and twisting, up and up and up.