Битва королей

Jon

           

           Avastblue-whitewallpluggedoneendofthevale,squeezingbetweenthemountainsasifithadshoulderedthemaside,andforamomenthethoughthehaddreamedhimselfbacktoCastleBlack.Thenherealizedhewaslookingatariveroficeseveralthousandfeethigh.Underthatglitteringcoldcliffwasagreatlake,itsdeepcobaltwatersreflectingthesnowcappedpeaksthatringedit.Thereweremendowninthevalley,hesawnow;manymen,thousands,ahugehost.Someweretearinggreatholesinthehalf-frozenground,whileotherstrainedforwar.Hewatchedasaswarmingmassofriderschargedashieldwall,astridehorsesnolargerthanants.Thesoundoftheirmockbattlewasarustlingofsteelleaves,driftingfaintlyonthewind.Theirencampmenthadnoplantoit;hesawnoditches,nosharpenedstakes,noneatrowsofhorselines.Everywherecrudeearthensheltersandhidetentssproutedhaphazardly,likeapoxonthefaceoftheearth.Hespieduntidymoundsofhay,smelledgoatsandsheep,horsesandpigs,dogsingreatprofusion.Tendrilsofdarksmokerosefromathousandcookfires.

           Thisisnoarmy,nomorethanitisatown.Thisisawholepeoplecometogether.

           Acrossthelonglake,oneofthemoundsmoved.Hewatcheditmorecloselyandsawthatitwasnotdirtatall,butalive,ashaggylumberingbeastwithasnakeforanoseandtuskslargerthanthoseofthegreatestboarthathadeverlived.

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