Walder Frey

The old Lord of the Crossing was ancient when the war of the five kings began and had outlived four wives, more children than any man could count, and every slight the great houses had ever offered his bridge-holders. House Frey was rich, growing and endlessly second — late to every battle — and Walder made sure it was only ever late.

He gave the Starks their crossing when it suited him and took it back when it did not. His word, his bread and his salt were offered at the Twins, and beneath them were the crossbow bolts and knives that ended Robb Stark, Catelyn Stark and the Northern cause — the Red Wedding, the treachery that made his name a curse north of the Neck.

He died with his throat cut in his own hall — the man who had broken every law of guest right, killed in the house where he broke it, by hands he never saw coming. His heirs quarrelled over the crossing before he was cold, which is, the singers say, exactly what he deserved.