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- Джордж Мартин
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He
knew
the
phrase
,
some
prayer
of
her
faith
.
It
makes
no
matter
,
I
have
a
faith
of
my
own
.
"
Only
children
fear
the
dark
,
"
he
told
her
.
Yet
even
as
he
said
the
words
,
he
heard
Patchface
take
up
his
song
again
.
"
The
shadows
come
to
dance
,
my
lord
,
dance
my
lord
,
dance
my
lord
.
"
"
Now
here
is
a
riddle
,
"
Melisandre
said
.
"
A
clever
fool
and
a
foolish
wise
man
.
"
Bending
,
she
picked
up
Patchface
’
s
helm
from
where
it
had
fallen
and
set
it
on
Cressen
’
s
head
.
The
cowbells
rang
softly
as
the
tin
bucket
slid
down
over
his
ears
.
"
A
crown
to
match
your
chain
,
Lord
Maester
,
"
she
announced
.
All
around
them
,
men
were
laughing
.
Cressen
pressed
his
lips
together
and
fought
to
still
his
rage
.
She
thought
he
was
feeble
and
helpless
,
but
she
would
learn
otherwise
before
the
night
was
done
.
Old
he
might
be
,
yet
he
was
still
a
maester
of
the
Citadel
.
"
I
need
no
crown
but
truth
,
"
he
told
her
,
removing
the
fool
’
s
helm
from
his
head
.
"
There
are
truths
in
this
world
that
are
not
taught
at
Oldtown
.
"
Melisandre
turned
from
him
in
a
swirl
of
red
silk
and
made
her
way
back
to
the
high
table
,
where
King
Stannis
and
his
queen
were
seated
.
Cressen
handed
the
antlered
tin
bucket
back
to
Patchface
,
and
made
to
follow
.
Maester
Pylos
sat
in
his
place
.
The
old
man
could
only
stop
and
stare
.
"
Maester
Pylos
,
"
he
said
at
last
.
"
You
.
.
.
you
did
not
wake
me
.
"
"
His
Grace
commanded
me
to
let
you
rest
.
"
Pylos
had
at
least
the
grace
to
blush
.
"
He
told
me
you
were
not
needed
here
.
"
Cressen
looked
over
the
knights
and
captains
and
lords
sitting
silent
.
Lord
Celtigar
,
aged
and
sour
,
wore
a
mantle
patterned
with
red
crabs
picked
out
in
garnets
.
Handsome
Lord
Velaryon
chose
sea
-
green
silk
,
the
white
-
gold
seahorse
at
his
throat
matching
his
long
fair
hair
.
Lord
Bar
Emmon
,
that
plump
boy
of
fourteen
,
was
swathed
in
purple
velvet
trimmed
with
white
seal
,
Ser
Axell
Florent
remained
homely
even
in
russet
and
fox
fur
,
pious
Lord
Sunglass
wore
moonstones
at
throat
and
wrist
and
finger
,
and
the
Lysene
captain
Salladhor
Saan
was
a
sunburst
of
scarlet
satin
,
gold
,
and
jewels
.
Only
Ser
Davos
dressed
simply
,
in
brown
doublet
and
green
wool
mantle
,
and
only
Ser
Davos
met
his
gaze
,
with
pity
in
his
eyes
.
