Битва королей

Theon

           Lastnightinhisdreamhehadbeeninbedwithheronceagain,butthistimeshehadteethaboveandbelow,andshetoreouthisthroatevenasshewasgnawingoffhismanhood.Itwasmadness.He’dseenherdietoo.GelmarrhadcutherdownwithoneblowofhisaxeasshecriedtoTheonformercy.Leaveme,woman.Itwashimwhokilledyou,notme.Andhe’sdeadaswell.AtleastGelmarrdidnothauntTheon’ssleep.

           ThedreamhadrecededbythetimeWexreturnedwiththewater.Theonwashedthesweatandsleepfromhisbodyandtookhisowngoodtimedressing.Ashahadlethimwaitlongenough;nowitwasherturn.Hechoseasatintunicstripedblackandgoldandafineleatherjerkinwithsilverstuds...andonlythenrememberedthathiswretchedsisterputmorestockinbladesthanbeauty.Cursing,hetoreofftheclothesanddressedagain,infeltedblackwoolandringmail.Aroundhiswaisthebuckledswordanddagger,rememberingthenightshehadhumiliatedhimathisownfather’stable.Hersweetsucklingbabe,yes.Well,Ihaveaknifetoo,andknowhowtouseit.

           Lastofall,hedonnedhiscrown,abandofcoldironslimasafinger,setwithheavychunksofblackdiamondandnuggetsofgold.Itwasmisshapenandugly,buttherewasnohelpforthat.Mikkenlayburiedinthelichyard,andthenewsmithwascapableoflittlemorethannailsandhorseshoes.Theonconsoledhimselfwiththereminderthatitwasonlyaprince’scrown.Hewouldhavesomethingmuchfinerwhenhewascrownedking.

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