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- Джордж Мартин
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- Стр. 145/853
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"
It
must
be
windy
there
,
"
the
captain
’
s
daughter
observed
.
He
laughed
.
"
Windy
and
cold
and
damp
.
A
miserable
hard
place
,
in
truth
.
.
.
but
my
lord
father
once
told
me
that
hard
places
breed
hard
men
,
and
hard
men
rule
the
world
.
"
The
captain
’
s
face
was
as
green
as
the
sea
when
he
came
bowing
up
to
Theon
and
asked
,
"
May
we
make
for
port
now
,
milord
?
"
"
You
may
,
"
Theon
said
,
a
faint
smile
playing
about
his
lips
.
The
promise
of
gold
had
turned
the
Oldtowner
into
a
shameless
lickspittle
.
It
would
have
been
a
much
different
voyage
if
a
longship
from
the
islands
had
been
waiting
at
Seagard
as
he
’
d
hoped
.
Ironborn
captains
were
proud
and
willful
,
and
did
not
go
in
awe
of
a
man
’
s
blood
.
The
islands
were
too
small
for
awe
,
and
a
longship
smaller
still
.
If
every
captain
was
a
king
aboard
his
own
ship
,
as
was
often
said
,
it
was
small
wonder
they
named
the
islands
the
land
of
ten
thousand
kings
.
And
when
you
have
seen
your
kings
shit
over
the
rail
and
turn
green
in
a
storm
,
it
was
hard
to
bend
the
knee
and
pretend
they
were
gods
.
"
The
Drowned
God
makes
men
,
"
old
King
Urron
Redhand
had
once
said
,
thousands
of
years
ago
,
"
but
it
’
s
men
who
make
crowns
.
"
A
longship
would
have
made
the
crossing
in
half
the
time
as
well
.
The
Myraham
was
a
wallowing
tub
,
if
truth
be
told
,
and
he
would
not
care
to
be
aboard
her
in
a
storm
.
Still
,
Theon
could
not
be
too
unhappy
.
He
was
here
,
undrowned
,
and
the
voyage
had
offered
certain
other
amusements
.
He
put
an
arm
around
the
captain
’
s
daughter
.
"
Summon
me
when
we
make
Lordsport
,
"
he
told
her
father
.
"
We
’
ll
be
below
,
in
my
cabin
.
"
He
led
the
girl
away
aft
,
while
her
father
watched
them
go
in
sullen
silence
.
The
cabin
was
the
captain
’
s
,
in
truth
,
but
it
had
been
turned
over
to
Theon
’
s
use
when
they
sailed
from
Seagard
.
The
captain
’
s
daughter
had
not
been
turned
over
to
his
use
,
but
she
had
come
to
his
bed
willingly
enough
all
the
same
.
A
cup
of
wine
,
a
few
whispers
,
and
there
she
was
.
The
girl
was
a
shade
plump
for
his
taste
,
with
skin
as
splotchy
as
oatmeal
,
but
her
breasts
filled
his
hands
nicely
and
she
had
been
a
maiden
the
first
time
he
took
her
.
That
was
surprising
at
her
age
,
but
Theon
found
it
diverting
.
He
did
not
think
the
captain
approved
,
and
that
was
amusing
as
well
,
watching
the
man
struggle
to
swallow
his
outrage
while
performing
his
courtesies
to
the
high
lord
,
the
rich
purse
of
gold
he
’
d
been
promised
never
far
from
his
thoughts
.
As
Theon
shrugged
out
of
his
wet
cloak
,
the
girl
said
,
"
You
must
be
so
happy
to
see
your
home
again
,
milord
.
How
many
years
have
you
been
away
?
"
"
Ten
,
or
close
as
makes
no
matter
,
"
he
told
her
.
"
I
was
a
boy
of
ten
when
I
was
taken
to
Winterfell
,
as
a
ward
of
Eddard
Stark
.
"
A
ward
in
name
,
a
hostage
in
truth
.
Half
his
days
a
hostage
.
.
.
but
no
longer
.
His
life
was
his
own
again
,
and
nowhere
a
Stark
to
be
seen
.
He
drew
the
captain
’
s
daughter
close
and
kissed
her
on
her
ear
.
"
Take
off
your
cloak
.
"
