Игра престолов

Jon

           Pypcalledafterhim,butJonpaidhimnomind.

           TheyhadmovedhimbacktohisoldcellintumbledownHardin’sTowerafterthefire,anditwastherehereturned.Ghostwascurledupasleepbesidethedoor,butheliftedhisheadatthesoundofJon’sboots.Thedirewolf’sredeyesweredarkerthangarnetsandwiserthanmen.Jonknelt,scratchedhisear,andshowedhimthepommelofthesword."Look.It’syou."

           Ghostsniffedathiscarvedstonelikenessandtriedalick.Jonsmiled."You’retheonedeservesanhonor,"hetoldthewolf...andsuddenlyhefoundhimselfrememberinghowhe’dfoundhim,thatdayinthelatesummersnow.Theyhadbeenridingoffwiththeotherpups,butJonhadheardanoiseandturnedback,andtherehewas,whitefuralmostinvisibleagainstthedrifts.Hewasallalone,hethought,apartfromtheothersinthelitter.Hewasdifferent,sotheydrovehimout.

           "Jon?"Helookedup.SamwellTarlystoodrockingnervouslyonhisheels.Hischeekswerered,andhewaswrappedinaheavyfurcloakthatmadehimlookreadyforhibernation.

           "Sam."Jonstood."Whatisit?Doyouwanttoseethesword?"Iftheothershadknown,nodoubtSamdidtoo.

           Thefatboyshookhishead."Iwasheirtomyfather’sbladeonce,"hesaidmournfully."Heartsbane.LordRandyllletmeholditafewtimes,butitalwaysscaredme.ItwasValyriansteel,beautifulbutsosharpIwasafraidI’dhurtoneofmysisters.Dickonwillhaveitnow."Hewipedsweatyhandsonhiscloak."Iah...MaesterAemonwantstoseeyou."

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