Битва королей

Tyrion

           Thebatteringramcrasheddownintothemud,forgotteninaninstantasitshandlersfledorturnedtofight.Tyrionrodedownanarcher,openedaspearmanfromshouldertoarmpit,glancedablowoffaswordfish-crestedhelm.AttheramhisbigredrearedbuttheblackstallionleapttheobstaclesmoothlyandSerMandonflashedpasthim,deathinsnow-whitesilk.Hisswordshearedofflimbs,crackedheads,brokeshieldsasunderthoughfewenoughoftheenemyhadmadeitacrosstheriverwithshieldsintact.

           Tyrionurgedhismountovertheram.Theirfoeswerefleeing.Hemovedhisheadrighttoleftandbackagain,butsawnosignofPodrickPayne.Anarrowclatteredagainsthischeek,missinghiseye-slitbyaninch.Hisjoltoffearalmostunhorsedhim.IfI’mtositherelikeastump,Ihadaswellpaintatargetonmybreastplate.

           Hespurredhishorsebackintomotion,trottingoverandaroundascatterofcorpses.Downriver,theBlackwaterwasjammedwiththehulksofburninggalleys.Patchesofwildfirestillfloatedatopthewater,sendingfierygreenplumesswirlingtwentyfeetintotheair.Theyhaddispersedthemenonthebatteringram,buthecouldseefightingallalongtheriverfront.SerBalonSwann’smen,mostlike,orLancel’s,tryingtothrowtheenemybackintothewaterastheyswarmedashoreofftheburningships."We’llridefortheMudGate,"hecommanded.

           SerMandonshouted,"TheMudGate!"Andtheywereoffagain.

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