Битва королей

Arya

           GendryandCutjackdughergraveonahillsidebeneathaweepingwillow.Whenthewindblew,Aryathoughtshecouldhearthelongtrailingbrancheswhispering,"Please.Please.Please."Thelittlehairsonthebackofherneckrose,andshealmostranfromthegraveside.

           "Nofiretonight,"Yorentoldthem.SupperwasahandfulofwildradishesKossfound,acupofdrybeans,waterfromanearbybrook.Thewaterhadafunnytastetoit,andLommytoldthemitwasthetasteofbodies,rottingsomeplaceupstream.HotPiewouldhavehithimifoldReysenhadn’tpulledthemapart.

           Aryadranktoomuchwater,justtofillherbellywithsomething.Sheneverthoughtshe’dbeabletosleep,yetsomehowshedid.Whenshewoke,itwaspitch-blackandherbladderwasfulltobursting.Sleepershuddledallaroundher,wrappedinblanketsandcloaks.AryafoundNeedle,stood,listened.Sheheardthesoftfootfallsofasentry,menturninginrestlesssleep,Rorge’srattlingsnores,andthequeerhissingsoundthatBitermadewhenheslept.FromadifferentwagoncamethesteadyrhythmicscrapeofsteelonstoneasYorensat,chewingsourleafandsharpeningtheedgeofhisdirk.

           HotPiewasoneoftheboysonwatch."Whereyougoing?"heaskedwhenhesawAryaheadingforthetrees.

           Aryawavedvaguelyatthewoods.

           "Noyou’renot,"HotPiesaid.

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