Игра престолов

Tyrion

           Thegroundfellawaybeneathhim,thecageswung,andTyrionwrappedhishandsaroundtheironbars.Hecouldfeelthecoldofthemetaleventhroughhisgloves.Morrechadafireburninginhisroom,henotedwithapproval,buttheLordCommander’stowerwasdark.TheOldBearhadmoresensethanhedid,itseemed.

           Thenhewasabovethetowers,stillinchinghiswayupward.CastleBlacklaybelowhim,etchedinmoonlight.Youcouldseehowstarkandemptyitwasfromuphere;windowlesskeeps,crumblingwalls,courtyardschokedwithbrokenstone.Fartheroff,hecouldseethelightsofMole’sTown,thelittlevillagehalfaleaguesouthalongthekingsroad,andhereandtherethebrightglitterofmoonlightonwaterwhereicystreamsdescendedfromthemountainheightstocutacrosstheplains.Therestoftheworldwasableakemptinessofwindswepthillsandrockyfieldsspottedwithsnow.

           Finallyathickvoicebehindhimsaid,"Sevenhells,it’sthedwarf,"andthecagejerkedtoasuddenstopandhungthere,swingingslowlybackandforth,theropescreaking.

           "Bringhimin,damnit."TherewasagruntandaloudgroaningofwoodasthecageslidsidewaysandthentheWallwasbeneathhim.Tyrionwaiteduntiltheswinginghadstoppedbeforehepushedopenthecagedoorandhoppeddownontotheice.Aheavyfigureinblackwasleaningonthewinch,whileasecondheldthecagewithaglovedhand.Theirfacesweremuffledinwoolenscarvessoonlytheireyesshowed,andtheywereplumpwithlayersofwoolandleather,blackonblack.

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