Игра престолов

Bran

           Hecouldpicturehimstridingacrosstheyardinmailandplate,orsittingathisaccustomedplaceonthebenchintheGreatHall,jokingasheate."WhywouldanyonekillJory?"

           Robbshookhisheadnumbly,thepainplaininhiseyes."Idon’tknow,and...Bran,that’snottheworstofit.Fatherwascaughtbeneathafallinghorseinthefight.Alynsayshislegwasshattered,and...MaesterPycellehasgivenhimthemilkofthepoppy,buttheyaren’tsurewhen...whenhe..."Thesoundofhoofbeatsmadehimglancedowntheroad,towhereTheonandtheotherswerecomingup."Whenhewillwake,"Robbfinished.Helaidhishandonthepommelofhisswordthen,andwentoninthesolemnvoiceofRobbtheLord."Bran,Ipromiseyou,whatevermighthappen,Iwillnotletthisbeforgotten."

           SomethinginhistonemadeBranevenmorefearful."Whatwillyoudo?"heaskedasTheonGreyjoyreinedinbesidethem.

           "TheonthinksIshouldcallthebanners,"Robbsaid.

           "Bloodforblood."ForonceGreyjoydidnotsmile.Hislean,darkfacehadahungrylooktoit,andblackhairfelldownacrosshiseyes.

           "Onlythelordcancallthebanners,"Bransaidasthesnowdrifteddownaroundthem.

           "Ifyourfatherdies,"Theonsaid,"RobbwillbeLordofWinterfell."

           "Hewon’tdie!"Branscreamedathim.

           Robbtookhishand."Hewon’tdie,notFather,"hesaidcalmly."Still...thehonorofthenorthisinmyhandsnow.Whenourlordfathertookhisleaveofus,hetoldmetobestrongforyouandforRickon.

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