Catelyn looked at the knife, then at Bran. "No," she said. The
word stuck in her throat, the merest whisper. He must have
heard her. "It's a mercy," he said. "He's dead already." "No,"
Catelyn said, louder now as she found her voice again. "No,
you can't." She spun back toward the window to scream for
help, but the man moved faster than she would have believed.
One hand clamped over her mouth and yanked back her head,
the other brought the dagger up to her windpipe.