Игра престолов

Tyrion

           Thewindswirledaroundhim,gravelcrunchedbeneathhisboots,whileaheadthewhiteribbonfollowedthelinesofthehills,risinghigherandhigher,untilitwaslostbeyondthewesternhorizon.Hepassedamassivecatapult,astallasacitywall,itsbasesunkdeepintotheWall.Thethrowingarmhadbeentakenoffforrepairsandthenforgotten;itlaytherelikeabrokentoy,half-embeddedintheice.

           Onthefarsideofthecatapult,amuffledvoicecalledoutachallenge."Whogoesthere?Halt!"

           Tyrionstopped."IfIhalttoolongI’llfreezeinplace,Jon,"hesaidasashaggypaleshapeslidtowardhimsilentlyandsniffedathisfurs."Hello,Ghost."

           JonSnowmovedcloser.Helookedbiggerandheavierinhislayersoffurandleather,thehoodofhiscloakpulleddownoverhisface."Lannister,"hesaid,yankingloosethescarftouncoverhismouth."ThisisthelastplaceIwouldhaveexpectedtoseeyou."Hecarriedaheavyspeartippediniron,tallerthanhewas,andaswordhungathissideinaleathersheath.Acrosshischestwasagleamingblackwarhorn,bandedwithsilver.

           "ThisisthelastplaceIwouldhaveexpectedtobeseen,"Tyrionadmitted."Iwascapturedbyawhim.IfItouchGhost,willhechewmyhandoff?"

           "Notwithmehere,"Jonpromised.

           Tyrionscratchedthewhitewolfbehindtheears.Theredeyeswatchedhimimpassively.Thebeastcameupashighashischestnow.Anotheryear,andTyrionhadthegloomyfeelinghe’dbelookingupathim."Whatareyoudoingupheretonight?"heasked."Besidesfreezingyourmanhoodoff..."

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