Игра престолов

Jon

           Thedirewolfturnedhisheadandlookeddownathim,baringhisfangsinasilentsnarl.Hashegonemad?Jonwondered."It’sme,Ghost,"hemurmured,tryingnottosoundafraid.Yethewastrembling,violently.Whenhaditgottensocold?

           Ghostbackedawayfromthedoor.Thereweredeepgougeswherehe’drakedthewood.Jonwatchedhimwithmountingdisquiet."There’ssomeoneoutthere,isn’tthere?"hewhispered.Crouching,thedirewolfcreptbackward,whitefurrisingonthebackofhisneck.Theguard,hethought,theyleftamantoguardmydoor,Ghostsmellshimthroughthedoor,that’sallitis.

           Slowly,Jonpushedhimselftohisfeet.Hewasshiveringuncontrollably,wishinghestillhadasword.Threequickstepsbroughthimtothedoor.Hegrabbedthehandleandpulleditinward.Thecreakofthehingesalmostmadehimjump.

           Hisguardwassprawledbonelesslyacrossthenarrowsteps,lookingupathim.Lookingupathim,eventhoughhewaslyingonhisstomach.Hisheadhadbeentwistedcompletelyaround.

           Itcan’tbe,Jontoldhimself.ThisistheLordCommander’sTower,it’sguardeddayandnight,thiscouldn’thappen,it’sadream,I’mhavinganightmare.

           Ghostslidpasthim,outthedoor.Thewolfstartedupthesteps,stopped,lookedbackatJon.Thatwaswhenheheardit;thesoftscrapeofabootonstone,thesoundofalatchturning.Thesoundscamefromabove.FromtheLordCommander’schambers.

           Anightmarethismightbe,yetitwasnodream.

           Theguard’sswordwasinitssheath.Jonkneltandworkeditfree.

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