Битва королей

Jon

           ThorenSmallwoodlookedmorealordthanMormontdid,cladinSerJaremyRykker’sgleamingblackmailandembossedbreastplate.Hisheavycloakwasrichlytrimmedwithsable,andclaspedwiththecrossedhammersoftheRykkers,wroughtinsilver.SerJaremy’scloak,once...butthewighthadclaimedSerJaremy,andtheNight’sWatchwastednothing.

           "AyearagoRobertwasking,andtherealmwasatpeace,"declaredJarmanBuckwell,thesquarestolidmanwhocommandedthescouts."Muchcanchangeinayear’stime."

           "Onethinghasn’tchanged,"SerMalladorLockeinsisted."Fewerwildlingsmeansfewerworries.Iwon’tmourn,whatever’sbecomeofthem.Raidersandmurderers,thelotofthem."

           Jonheardarustlingfromtheredleavesabove.Twobranchesparted,andheglimpsedalittlemanmovingfromlimbtolimbaseasilyasasquirrel.Bedwyckstoodnomorethanfivefeettall,butthegreystreaksinhishairshowedhisage.TheotherrangerscalledhimGiant.Hesatinaforkofthetreeovertheirheadsandsaid,"There’swatertothenorth.Alake,mightbe.Afewflinthillsrisingtothewest,notveryhigh.Nothingelsetosee,mylords."

           "Wemightcampheretonight,"Smallwoodsuggested.

           TheOldBearglancedup,searchingforaglimpseofskythroughthepalelimbsandredleavesoftheweirwood."No,"hedeclared."Giant,howmuchdaylightremainstous?"

           "Threehours,mylord."

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