Битва королей

Catelyn

           

           "Itwasbest,"herfatherwhispered."Jon’sagoodman,good...strong,kind...takecareofyou...hewill...andwell-born,listentome,youmust,I’myourfather...yourfather...you’llwedwhenCatdoes,yesyouwill..."

           HethinksI’mLysa,Catelynrealized.Godsbegood,hetalksasifwewerenotmarriedyet.

           Herfather’shandsclutchedathers,flutteringliketwofrightenedwhitebirds."Thatstripling...wretchedboy...notspeakthatnametome,yourduty...yourmother,shewould..."LordHostercriedasaspasmofpainwashedoverhim."Oh,godsforgiveme,forgiveme,forgiveme.Mymedicine..."

           AndthenMaesterVymanwasthere,holdingacuptohislips.LordHostersuckedatthethickwhitepotionaseagerasababeatthebreast,andCatelyncouldseepeacesettleoverhimoncemore."He’llsleepnow,mylady,"themaestersaidwhenthecupwasempty.Themilkofthepoppyhadleftathickwhitefilmaroundherfather’smouth.MaesterVymanwipeditawaywithasleeve.

           Catelyncouldwatchnomore.HosterTullyhadbeenastrongman,andproud.Ithurthertoseehimreducedtothis.Shewentouttotheterrace.Theyardbelowwascrowdedwithrefugeesandchaoticwiththeirnoises,butbeyondthewallstheriversflowedcleanandpureandendless.Thosearehisrivers,andsoonhewillreturntothemforhislastvoyage.

           MaesterVymanhadfollowedherout.

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