“It hasn’t eaten any princesses of Dorne,” Jaehaerys pointed out. He rolled his eyes but kept his word to stay between her and the Iron Throne. They needed her, or they’d never get this finished anyway. Halfway down the hall, his friends waited. Berric Rosby was scowling.
“Why’d you bring her?”
“She’s little enough to get to it- we can’t and she can climb. Unless you figured out how to build that little trebuchet thing you thought up.” Jaehaerys glared.
Berric shuffled his feet and shrugged. “We got some more stuff- the ladder almost goes all the way up.” He pointed to the artful if not entirely stable pile of odd hassics and small tables, blocks of wood and other items leaned up against the wall behind him. A few feet above the last layer of thick books was a dragon skull with something oddly shiny stuck in the back, a space only accessible if you could climb through the lower jaw which none of them had managed. Attempts at retrieval with a stick had only moved their target further back.
“But she’s short,” Edric Blackwood pointed out . He was the third of the little trio and the one least likely to argue. “What if she can’t reach it?”
“We’ll pile some more stuff up. You can do it fine, can’t you, Elia?” Jaehaerys looked at her. “Please, it’s just like I said- you’re the only one who can get it back.”