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- Джордж Мартин
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- Стр. 189/853
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The
fire
leapt
from
one
house
to
another
.
Arya
saw
a
tree
consumed
,
the
flames
creeping
across
its
branches
until
it
stood
against
the
night
in
robes
of
living
orange
.
Everyone
was
awake
now
,
manning
the
catwalks
or
struggling
with
the
frightened
animals
below
.
She
could
hear
Yoren
shouting
commands
.
Something
bumped
against
her
leg
,
and
she
glanced
down
to
discover
the
crying
girl
clutching
her
.
"
Get
away
!
"
She
wrenched
her
leg
free
.
"
What
are
you
doing
up
here
?
Run
and
hide
someplace
,
you
stupid
.
"
She
shoved
the
girl
away
.
The
riders
reined
up
before
the
gates
.
"
You
in
the
holdfast
!
"
shouted
a
knight
in
a
tall
helm
with
a
spiked
crest
.
"
Open
,
in
the
name
of
the
king
!
"
"
Aye
,
and
which
king
is
that
?
"
old
Reysen
yelled
back
down
,
before
Woth
cuffed
him
into
silence
.
Yoren
climbed
the
battlement
beside
the
gate
,
his
faded
black
cloak
tied
to
a
wooden
staff
.
"
You
men
hold
down
here
!
"
he
shouted
.
"
The
townfolk
’
s
gone
.
"
"
And
who
are
you
,
old
man
?
One
of
Lord
Beric
’
s
cravens
?
"
called
the
knight
in
the
spiked
helm
.
"
If
that
fat
fool
Thoros
is
in
there
,
ask
him
how
he
likes
these
fires
.
"
"
Got
no
such
man
here
,
"
Yoren
shouted
back
.
"
Only
some
lads
for
the
Watch
.
Got
no
part
o
’
your
war
.
"
He
hoisted
up
the
staff
,
so
they
could
all
see
the
color
of
his
cloak
.
"
Have
a
look
.
That
’
s
black
,
for
the
Night
’
s
Watch
.
"
"
Or
black
for
House
Dondarrion
,
"
called
the
man
who
bore
the
enemy
banner
.
Arya
could
see
its
colors
more
clearly
now
in
the
light
of
the
burning
town
:
a
golden
lion
on
red
.
"
Lord
Beric
’
s
sigil
is
a
purple
lightning
bolt
on
a
black
field
.
"
Suddenly
Arya
remembered
the
morning
she
had
thrown
the
orange
in
Sansa
’
s
face
and
gotten
juice
all
over
her
stupid
ivory
silk
gown
.
There
had
been
some
southron
lordling
at
the
tourney
,
her
sister
’
s
stupid
friend
Jeyne
was
in
love
with
him
.
He
had
a
lightning
bolt
on
his
shield
and
her
father
had
sent
him
out
to
behead
the
Hound
’
s
brother
.
It
seemed
a
thousand
years
ago
now
,
something
that
had
happened
to
a
different
person
in
a
different
life
.
.
.
to
Arya
Stark
the
Hand
’
s
daughter
,
not
Arry
the
orphan
boy
.
How
would
Arry
know
lords
and
such
?
