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- Джордж Мартин
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Little
Walder
cast
his
splintered
lance
aside
,
spied
Bran
,
and
reined
up
.
"
Now
there
’
s
an
ugly
horse
,
"
he
said
of
Hodor
.
"
Hodor
’
s
no
horse
,
"
Bran
said
.
"
Hodor
,
"
said
Hodor
.
Big
Walder
trotted
up
to
join
his
cousin
.
"
Well
,
he
’
s
not
as
smart
as
a
horse
,
that
’
s
for
certain
.
"
A
few
of
the
White
Harbor
lads
poked
each
other
and
laughed
.
"
Hodor
.
"
Beaming
genially
,
Hodor
looked
from
one
Frey
to
the
other
,
oblivious
to
their
taunting
.
"
Hodor
hodor
?
"
Little
Walder
’
s
mount
whickered
.
"
See
,
they
’
re
talking
to
each
other
.
Maybe
hodor
means
‘
I
love
you
’
in
horse
.
"
"
You
shut
up
,
Frey
.
"
Bran
could
feel
his
color
rising
.
Little
Walder
spurred
his
horse
closer
,
giving
Hodor
a
bump
that
pushed
him
backward
.
"
What
will
you
do
if
I
don
’
t
?
"
"
He
’
ll
set
his
wolf
on
you
,
cousin
,
"
warned
Big
Walder
.
"
Let
him
.
I
always
wanted
a
wolfskin
cloak
.
"
