Битва королей

Tyrion

           Butwhenhereachedthecitywalls,thegateswereshutagainsthim.

           Itwasdarkwhenhewokeagain.Atfirsthecouldseenothing,butafteratimethevagueoutlinesofabedappearedaroundhim.Thedrapesweredrawn,buthecouldseetheshapeofcarvedbedposts,andthedroopofthevelvetcanopyoverhishead.Underhimwastheyieldingsoftnessofafeatherbed,andthepillowbeneathhisheadwasgoosedown.Myownbed,Iaminmyownbed,inmyownbedchamber.

           Itwaswarminsidethedrapes,underthegreatheapoffursandblanketsthatcoveredhim.Hewassweating.Fever,hethoughtgroggily.Hefeltsoweak,andthepainstabbedthroughhimwhenhestruggledtolifthishand.Hegaveuptheeffort.Hisheadfeltenormous,asbigasthebed,tooheavytoraisefromthepillow.Hisbodyhecouldscarcelyfeelatall.HowdidIcomehere?Hetriedtoremember.Thebattlecamebackinfitsandflashes.Thefightalongtheriver,theknightwho’doffereduphisgauntlet,thebridgeofships...

           SerMandon.Hesawthedeademptyeyes,thereachinghand,thegreenfireshiningagainstthewhiteenamelplate.Fearsweptoverhiminacoldrush;beneaththesheetshecouldfeelhisbladderlettinggo.Hewouldhavecriedout,ifhe’dhadamouth.No,thatwasthedream,hethought,hisheadpounding.Helpme,someonehelpme.Jaime,Shae,Mother,someone...Tysha...

           Nooneheard.Noonecame.Aloneinthedark,hefellbackintopiss-scentedsleep.

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Roboto Lora
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