Битва королей

Tyrion

           Hecouldalmostsmelltheplace,earthyandbrooding,thesmellofcenturies,andherememberedhowdarkthewoodhadbeenevenbyday.ThatwoodwasWinterfell.Itwasthenorth.IneverfeltsooutofplaceasIdidwhenIwalkedthere,somuchanunwelcomeintruder.HewonderediftheGreyjoyswouldfeelittoo.Thecastlemightwellbetheirs,butneverthatgodswood.Notinayear,orten,orfifty.

           TyrionLannisterwalkedhishorseslowlytowardtheMudGate.Winterfellisnothingtoyou,heremindedhimself.Begladtheplacehasfallen,andlooktoyourownwalls.Thegatewasopen.Inside,threegreattrebuchetsstoodsidebysideinthemarketsquare,peeringoverthebattlementslikethreehugebirds.Theirthrowingarmsweremadefromthetrunksofoldoaks,andbandedwithirontokeepthemfromsplitting.ThegoldcloakshadnamedthemtheThreeWhores,becausethey’dbegivingLordStannissuchalustywelcome.Orsowehope.

           TyrionputhisheelsintohishorseandtrottedthroughtheMudGate,breastingthehumantide.OncebeyondtheWhores,thepressgrewthinnerandthestreetopeneduparoundhim.

           TheridebacktotheRedKeepwasuneventful,butattheToweroftheHandhefoundadozenangrytradercaptainswaitinginhisaudiencechambertoprotesttheseizureoftheirships.Hegavethemasincereapologyandpromisedcompensationoncethewarwasdone.Thatdidlittletoappeasethem."Whatifyoushouldlose,mylord?"oneBraavosiasked.

Настройки
Фон страницы
Размер шрифта
Межстрочный интервал
Фразовые глаголы
Показать / Скрыть меню
Шрифт
Roboto Lora
Уведомления
Страница 931 из 1267