Игра престолов

Jon

           Stringsofmeatandbloodfleweverywhere,scatteringtheravens.Theytooktotheair,shriekingwildly.Thequickerbirdssnatchedmorselsonthewingandgulpedthemdowngreedily.Jonlettheemptybucketclangtothefloor.

           Theoldmanlaidawithered,spottedhandonhisshoulder."Ithurts,boy,"hesaidsoftly."Oh,yes.Choosing...ithasalwayshurt.Andalwayswill.Iknow."

           "Youdon’tknow,"Jonsaidbitterly."Nooneknows.EvenifIamhisbastard,he’sstillmyfather..."

           MaesterAemonsighed."HaveyouheardnothingI’vetoldyou,Jon?Doyouthinkyouarethefirst?"Heshookhisancienthead,agesturewearybeyondwords."Threetimesthegodssawfittotestmyvows.OncewhenIwasaboy,onceinthefullnessofmymanhood,andoncewhenIhadgrownold.Bythenmystrengthwasfled,myeyesgrowndim,yetthatlastchoicewasascruelasthefirst.Myravenswouldbringthenewsfromthesouth,wordsdarkerthantheirwings,theruinofmyHouse,thedeathofmykin,disgraceanddesolation.WhatcouldIhavedone,old,blind,frail?Iwashelplessasasucklingbabe,yetstillitgrievedmetositforgottenastheycutdownmybrother’spoorgrandson,andhisson,andeventhelittlechildren..."

           Jonwasshockedtoseetheshineoftearsintheoldman’seyes."Whoareyou?"heaskedquietly,almostindread.

           Atoothlesssmilequiveredontheancientlips."OnlyamaesteroftheCitadel,boundinservicetoCastleBlackandtheNight’sWatch

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