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- Джордж Мартин
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- Стр. 153/853
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"
I
have
been
half
my
life
away
from
home
,
"
Theon
ventured
at
last
.
"
Will
I
find
the
islands
changed
?
"
"
Men
fish
the
sea
,
dig
in
the
earth
,
and
die
.
Women
birth
children
in
blood
and
pain
,
and
die
.
Night
follows
day
.
The
winds
and
tides
remain
.
The
islands
are
as
our
god
made
them
.
"
Gods
,
he
has
grown
grim
,
Theon
thought
.
"
Will
I
find
my
sister
and
my
lady
mother
at
Pyke
?
"
"
You
will
not
.
Your
mother
dwells
on
Harlaw
,
with
her
own
sister
.
It
is
less
raw
there
,
and
her
cough
troubles
her
.
Your
sister
has
taken
Black
Wind
to
Great
Wyk
,
with
messages
from
your
lord
father
.
She
will
return
e
’
er
long
,
you
may
be
sure
.
"
Theon
did
not
need
to
be
told
that
Black
Wind
was
Asha
’
s
longship
.
He
had
not
seen
his
sister
in
ten
years
,
but
that
much
he
knew
of
her
.
Odd
that
she
would
call
it
that
,
when
Robb
Stark
had
a
wolf
named
Grey
Wind
.
"
Stark
is
grey
and
Greyjoy
’
s
black
,
"
he
murmured
,
smiling
,
"
but
it
seems
we
’
re
both
windy
.
"
The
priest
had
nothing
to
say
to
that
.
"
And
what
of
you
,
Uncle
?
"
Theon
asked
.
"
You
were
no
priest
when
I
was
taken
from
Pyke
.
I
remember
how
you
would
sing
the
old
reaving
songs
standing
on
the
table
with
a
horn
of
ale
in
hand
.
"
"
Young
I
was
,
and
vain
,
"
Aeron
Greyjoy
said
,
"
but
the
sea
washed
my
follies
and
my
vanities
away
.
That
man
drowned
,
nephew
.
His
lungs
filled
with
seawater
,
and
the
fish
ate
the
scales
off
his
eyes
.
When
I
rose
again
,
I
saw
clearly
.
"
He
is
as
mad
as
he
is
sour
.
Theon
had
liked
what
he
remembered
of
the
old
Aeron
Greyjoy
.
"
Uncle
,
why
has
my
father
called
his
swords
and
sails
?
"
"
Doubtless
he
will
tell
you
at
Pyke
.
"
