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- Джордж Мартин
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Tyrion
pointed
.
"
The
clasp
that
fastens
your
cape
.
"
Hesitantly
,
Lord
Janos
drew
out
the
ornament
and
handed
it
to
Tyrion
.
"
We
have
goldsmiths
in
Lannisport
who
do
better
work
,
"
he
opined
.
"
The
red
enamel
blood
is
a
shade
much
,
if
you
don
’
t
mind
my
saying
.
Tell
me
,
my
lord
,
did
you
drive
the
spear
into
the
man
’
s
back
yourself
,
or
did
you
only
give
the
command
?
"
"
I
gave
the
command
,
and
I
’
d
give
it
again
.
Lord
Stark
was
a
traitor
.
"
The
bald
spot
in
the
middle
of
Slynt
’
s
head
was
beet
-
red
,
and
his
cloth
-
of
-
gold
cape
had
slithered
off
his
shoulders
onto
the
floor
.
"
The
man
tried
to
buy
me
.
"
"
Little
dreaming
that
you
had
already
been
sold
.
"
Slynt
slammed
down
his
wine
cup
.
"
Are
you
drunk
?
If
you
think
I
will
sit
here
and
have
my
honor
questioned
.
.
.
"
"
What
honor
is
that
?
I
do
admit
,
you
made
a
better
bargain
than
Ser
Jacelyn
.
A
lordship
and
a
castle
for
a
spear
thrust
in
the
back
,
and
you
didn
’
t
even
need
to
thrust
the
spear
.
"
He
tossed
the
golden
ornament
back
to
Janos
Slynt
.
It
bounced
off
his
chest
and
clattered
to
the
floor
as
the
man
rose
.
"
I
mislike
the
tone
of
your
voice
,
my
lo
—
Imp
.
I
am
the
Lord
of
Harrenhal
and
a
member
of
the
king
’
s
council
,
who
are
you
to
chastise
me
like
this
?
"
Tyrion
cocked
his
head
sideways
.
"
I
think
you
know
quite
well
who
I
am
.
How
many
sons
do
you
have
?
"
"
What
are
my
sons
to
you
,
dwarf
?
"
