The pale morning sunlight ran up and down the blade as Jon clasped the hilt of the bastard sword with both hands and raised it high. "If you have any last words, now is the time to speak them," he said expecting one last curse. Janos Slynt twisted his neck to stare up at him. "Please my lord have mercy. I'll . . . I'll go, I will, I . . ." No, thought Jon you closed that door. Longclaw descended.

A Dance with Dragons page 122