Игра престолов

Bran

           EvenWinterfellitselfwascrowded.Theyardrangtothesoundofswordandaxe,therumbleofwagons,andthebarkingofdogs.Thearmorydoorswereopen,andBranglimpsedMikkenathisforge,hishammerringingassweatdrippedoffhisbarechest.Branhadneverseenasmanystrangersinallhisyears,notevenwhenKingRoberthadcometovisitFather.

           HetriednottoflinchasHodorduckedthroughalowdoor.Theywalkeddownalongdimhallway,Summerpaddingeasilybesidethem.Thewolfglancedupfromtimetotime,eyessmolderinglikeliquidgold.Branwouldhavelikedtotouchhim,buthewasridingtoohighforhishandtoreach.

           ThegodswoodwasanislandofpeaceintheseaofchaosthatWinterfellhadbecome.Hodormadehiswaythroughthedensestandsofoakandironwoodandsentinels,tothestillpoolbesidethehearttree.Hestoppedunderthegnarledlimbsoftheweirwood,humming.Branreachedupoverhisheadandpulledhimselfoutofhisseat,drawingthedeadweightofhislegsupthroughtheholesinthewickerbasket.Hehungforamoment,dangling,thedarkredleavesbrushingagainsthisface,untilHodorliftedhimandloweredhimtothesmoothstonebesidethewater."Iwanttobebymyselfforawhile,"hesaid."Yougosoak.Gotothepools."

           "Hodor."Hodorstompedthroughthetreesandvanished.Acrossthegodswood,beneaththewindowsoftheGuestHouse,anundergroundhotspringfedthreesmallponds.Steamrosefromthewaterdayandnight,andthewallthatloomedabovewasthickwithmoss.

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