Boy of promiseWritten by Adesh     They called him Silver-Stray in the streets, a name given more out of envy than mockery. At fourteen, Robb looked nothing like the beggar born in the slums. His hair shone silver in the sunlight, long and tangled from the wind and rain. His eyes were sharp and icy blue, having witnessed more cruelty than most men three times his age.   He wore no armour, just a patched leather jerkin and a cloak full of holes. Yet he moved like someone who had trained with knights, not thieves. He was fast,