Игра престолов

Eddard

           NedcouldseedriedmudandbladesofgrassclingingtotheleatherwhereRobert’sfeetstuckoutbeneaththeblanketthatcoveredhim,Agreendoubletlayonthefloor,slashedopenanddiscarded,theclothcrustedwithred-brownstains.Theroomsmelledofsmokeandbloodanddeath.

           "Ned,"thekingwhisperedwhenhesawhim.Hisfacewaspaleasmilk."Come...closer."

           Hismenbroughthimclose.Nedsteadiedhimselfwithahandonthebedpost.HehadonlytolookdownatRoberttoknowhowbaditwas."What...?"hebegan,histhroatclenched.

           "Aboar."LordRenlywasstillinhishuntinggreens,hiscloakspatteredwithblood.

           "Adevil,"thekinghusked."Myownfault.Toomuchwine,damnmetohell.Missedmythrust."

           "Andwhereweretherestofyou?"NeddemandedofLordRenly."WherewasSerBarristanandtheKingsguard?"

           Renly’smouthtwitched."Mybrothercommandedustostandasideandlethimtaketheboaralone."

           EddardStarkliftedtheblanket.

           Theyhaddonewhattheycouldtoclosehimup,butitwasnowherenearenough.Theboarmusthavebeenafearsomething.Ithadrippedthekingfromgrointonipplewithitstusks.Thewine-soakedbandagesthatGrandMaesterPycellehadappliedwerealreadyblackwithblood,andthesmelloffthewoundwashideous.Ned’sstomachturned.Helettheblanketfall.

           "Stinks,"Robertsaid."Thestinkofdeath,don’tthinkIcan’tsmellit.Bastarddidmegood,eh?ButI...Ipaidhimbackinkind,Ned."Theking’ssmilewasasterribleashiswound,histeethred.

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