Игра престолов

Bran

           Intheolderpartsofthecastle,thehallsslantedupanddownsothatyoucouldn’tevenbesurewhatflooryouwereon.Theplacehadgrownoverthecenturieslikesomemonstrousstonetree,MaesterLuwintoldhimonce,anditsbranchesweregnarledandthickandtwisted,itsrootssunkdeepintotheearth.

           Whenhegotoutfromunderitandscrambledupnearthesky,BrancouldseeallofWinterfellinaglance.Helikedthewayitlooked,spreadoutbeneathhim,onlybirdswheelingoverhisheadwhileallthelifeofthecastlewentonbelow.Brancouldperchforhoursamongtheshapeless,rain-worngargoylesthatbroodedovertheFirstKeep,watchingitall:themendrillingwithwoodandsteelintheyard,thecookstendingtheirvegetablesintheglassgarden,restlessdogsrunningbackandforthinthekennels,thesilenceofthegodswood,thegirlsgossipingbesidethewashingwell.Itmadehimfeellikehewaslordofthecastle,inawayevenRobbwouldneverknow.

           IttaughthimWinterfell’ssecretstoo.Thebuildershadnotevenleveledtheearth;therewerehillsandvalleysbehindthewallsofWinterfell.Therewasacoveredbridgethatwentfromthefourthfloorofthebelltoweracrosstothesecondflooroftherookery.Branknewaboutthat.Andheknewyoucouldgetinsidetheinnerwallbythesouthgate,climbthreefloorsandrunallthewayaroundWinterfellthroughanarrowtunnelinthestone,andthencomeoutongroundlevelatthenorthgate,withahundredfeetofwallloomingoveryou.

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