Битва королей

Jon

           

           Qhorinsatinhissaddle,studyingtheeagleforalongtime."Wepresson,"hefinallysaid.Therangersresumedtheirdescent.

           Ghost,Jonwantedtoshout,whereareyou?

           HewasabouttofollowQhorinandtheotherswhenheglimpsedaflashofwhitebetweentwoboulders.Apatchofoldsnow,hethought,untilhesawitstir.Hewasoffhishorseatonce.Ashewenttohisknees,Ghostliftedhishead.Hisneckglistenedwetly,buthemadenosoundwhenJonpeeledoffagloveandtouchedhim.Thetalonshadtornabloodypaththroughfurandflesh,butthebirdhadnotbeenabletosnaphisneck.

           QhorinHalfhandwasstandingoverhim."Howbad?"

           Asifinanswer,Ghoststruggledtohisfeet.

           "Thewolfisstrong,"therangersaid."Ebben,water.Stonesnake,yourskinofwine.Holdhimstill,Jon."

           Togethertheywashedthecakedbloodfromthedirewolf’sfur.GhoststruggledandbaredhisteethwhenQhorinpouredthewineintotheraggedredgashestheeaglehadlefthim,butJonwrappedhisarmsaroundhimandmurmuredsoothingwords,andsoonenoughthewolfquieted.Bythetimethey’drippedastripfromJon’scloaktowrapthewounds,fulldarkhadsettled.Onlyadustingofstarssettheblackofskyapartfromtheblackofstone."Dowepresson?"Stonesnakewantedtoknow.

           Qhorinwenttohisgarron."Back,noton."

           "Back?"Jonwastakenbysurprise.

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