Игра престолов

Jon

           savebySamwellTarly,who’dreadthelettertoMaesterAemonandwhispereditscontentstoJonthatnightinsecret,allthetimesayinghowheshouldn’t.Doubtlesstheythoughthisbrother’swarwasnoneofhisconcern.Ittroubledhimmorethanhecouldsay.Robbwasmarchingandhewasnot.NomatterhowoftenJontoldhimselfthathisplacewasherenow,withhisnewbrothersontheWall,hestillfeltcraven.

           "Corn,"theravenwascrying."Corn,corn."

           "Oh,bequiet,"theOldBeartoldit."Snow,howsoondoesMaesterAemonsayyou’llhaveuseofthathandback?"

           "Soon,"Jonreplied.

           "Good."Onthetablebetweenthem,LordMormontlaidalargeswordinablackmetalscabbardbandedwithsilver."Here.You’llbereadyforthis,then."

           Theravenflappeddownandlandedonthetable,struttingtowardthesword,headcockedcuriously.Jonhesitated.Hehadnoinklingwhatthismeant."Mylord?"

           "Thefiremeltedthesilveroffthepommelandburntthecrossguardandgrip.Well,dryleatherandoldwood,whatcouldyouexpect?Theblade,now...you’dneedafireahundredtimesashottoharmtheblade."Mormontshovedthescabbardacrosstheroughoakplanks."Ihadtherestmadeanew.Takeit."

           "Takeit,"echoedhisraven,preening."Takeit,takeit."

           Awkwardly,Jontooktheswordinhand.Hislefthand;hisbandagedrightwasstilltoorawandclumsy.Carefullyhepulleditfromitsscabbardandraiseditlevelwithhiseyes.

           Thepommelwasahunkofpalestoneweightedwithleadtobalancethelongblade.

Настройки
Фон страницы
Размер шрифта
Межстрочный интервал
Фразовые глаголы
Показать / Скрыть меню
Шрифт
Roboto Lora
Уведомления
Страница 866 из 1073