Игра престолов

Eddard

           SerLorasTyrellwasslenderasareed,dressedinasuitoffabuloussilverarmorpolishedtoablindingsheenandfiligreedwithtwiningblackvinesandtinyblueforget-me-nots.ThecommonsrealizedinthesameinstantasNedthattheblueoftheflowerscamefromsapphires;agaspwentupfromathousandthroats.Acrosstheboy’sshouldershiscloakhungheavy.Itwaswovenofforget-me-nots,realones,hundredsoffreshbloomssewntoaheavywoolencape.

           Hiscourserwasasslimasherrider,abeautifulgreymare,builtforspeed.SerGregor’shugestalliontrumpetedashecaughtherscent.TheboyfromHighgardendidsomethingwithhislegs,andhishorseprancedsideways,nimbleasadancer.Sansaclutchedathisarm."Father,don’tletSerGregorhurthim,"shesaid.NedsawshewaswearingtherosethatSerLorashadgivenheryesterday.Joryhadtoldhimaboutthataswell.

           "Thesearetourneylances,"hetoldhisdaughter."Theymakethemtosplinteronimpact,sonooneishurt."Yetherememberedthedeadboyinthecartwithhiscloakofcrescentmoons,andthewordswererawinhisthroat.

           SerGregorwashavingtroublecontrollinghishorse.Thestallionwasscreamingandpawingtheground,shakinghishead.TheMountainkickedattheanimalsavagelywithanarmoredboot.Thehorserearedandalmostthrewhim.

           TheKnightofFlowerssalutedtheking,rodetothefarendofthelist,andcouchedhislance,ready.SerGregorbroughthisanimaltotheline,fightingwiththereins.Andsuddenlyitbegan.

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