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- Джордж Мартин
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- Стр. 103/853
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"
You
remember
more
of
her
than
I
do
.
It
has
been
a
long
time
.
"
She
seated
herself
on
the
bed
and
brushed
away
a
strand
of
fine
white
hair
that
had
fallen
across
her
father
’
s
face
.
"
Each
time
I
ride
out
,
I
wonder
if
I
shall
find
him
alive
or
dead
on
my
return
.
"
Despite
their
quarrels
,
there
was
a
deep
bond
between
her
father
and
the
brother
he
had
once
disowned
.
"
At
least
you
made
your
peace
with
him
.
"
They
sat
for
a
time
in
silence
,
until
Catelyn
raised
her
head
.
"
You
spoke
of
tidings
that
Robb
needed
to
hear
?
"
Lord
Hoster
moaned
and
rolled
onto
his
side
,
almost
as
if
he
had
heard
.
Brynden
stood
.
"
Come
outside
.
Best
if
we
do
not
wake
him
.
"
She
followed
him
out
onto
the
stone
balcony
that
jutted
three
-
sided
from
the
solar
like
the
prow
of
a
ship
.
Her
uncle
glanced
up
,
frowning
.
"
You
can
see
it
by
day
now
.
My
men
call
it
the
Red
Messenger
.
.
.
but
what
is
the
message
?
"
Catelyn
raised
her
eyes
,
to
where
the
faint
red
line
of
the
comet
traced
a
path
across
the
deep
blue
sky
like
a
long
scratch
across
the
face
of
god
.
"
The
Greatjon
told
Robb
that
the
old
gods
have
unfurled
a
red
flag
of
vengeance
for
Ned
.
Edmure
thinks
it
’
s
an
omen
of
victory
for
Riverrun
—
he
sees
a
fish
with
a
long
tail
,
in
the
Tully
colors
,
red
against
blue
.
"
She
sighed
.
"
I
wish
I
had
their
faith
.
Crimson
is
a
Lannister
color
.
"
"
That
thing
’
s
not
crimson
,
"
Ser
Brynden
said
.
"
Nor
Tully
red
,
the
mud
red
of
the
river
.
That
’
s
blood
up
there
,
child
,
smeared
across
the
sky
.
"
"
Our
blood
or
theirs
?
"
