Битва королей

Jon

           HegavehisstewtoGrenn,wholookedinneedofanextrasuppertowarmhimagainstthenight.

           Thewindwasblowingbrisklywhenheleft.Bymorning,frostwouldcovertheground,andthetentropeswouldbestiffandfrozen.Afewfingersofspicedwinesloshedinthebottomofthekettle.Jonfedfreshwoodtothefireandputthekettleovertheflamestoreheat.Heflexedhisfingersashewaited,squeezingandspreadinguntilthehandtingled.Thefirstwatchhadtakenuptheirstationsaroundtheperimeterofthecamp.Torchesflickeredallalongtheringwall.Thenightwasmoonless,butathousandstarsshoneoverhead.

           Asoundroseoutofthedarkness,faintanddistant,butunmistakable:thehowlingofwolves.Theirvoicesroseandfell,achillysong,andlonely.Itmadethehairsrisealongthebackofhisneck.Acrossthefire,apairofredeyesregardedhimfromtheshadows.Thelightoftheflamesmadethemglow.

           "Ghost,"Jonbreathed,surprised."Soyoucameinsideafterall,eh?"Thewhitewolfoftenhuntedallnight;hehadnotexpectedtoseehimagaintilldaybreak."Wasthehuntingsobad?"heasked."Here.Tome,Ghost."

           Thedirewolfcircledthefire,sniffingJon,sniffingthewind,neverstill.Itdidnotseemasifhewereaftermeatrightnow.Whenthedeadcamewalking,Ghostknew.Hewokeme,warnedme.Alarmed,hegottohisfeet."Issomethingoutthere?Ghost,doyouhaveascent?"Dywensaidhesmelledcold.

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