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- Джордж Мартин
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"
Lady
Hornwood
can
have
one
of
our
Freys
,
"
said
Bran
.
"
She
can
have
both
of
them
if
she
likes
.
"
"
You
are
not
kind
,
my
prince
,
"
Ser
Rodrik
chided
gently
.
Neither
are
the
Walders
.
Scowling
,
Bran
stared
down
at
the
table
and
said
nothing
.
In
the
days
that
followed
,
ravens
arrived
from
other
lordly
houses
,
bearing
regrets
.
The
bastard
of
the
Dreadfort
would
not
be
joining
them
,
the
Mormonts
and
Karstarks
had
all
gone
south
with
Robb
,
Lord
Locke
was
too
old
to
dare
the
journey
,
Lady
Flint
was
heavy
with
child
,
there
was
sickness
at
Widow
’
s
Watch
.
Finally
all
of
the
principal
vassals
of
House
Stark
had
been
heard
from
save
for
Howland
Reed
the
crannogman
,
who
had
not
set
foot
outside
his
swamps
for
many
a
year
,
and
the
Cerwyns
whose
castle
lay
a
half
day
’
s
ride
from
Winterfell
.
Lord
Cerwyn
was
a
captive
of
the
Lannisters
,
but
his
son
,
a
lad
of
fourteen
,
arrived
one
bright
,
blustery
morning
at
the
head
of
two
-
dozen
lances
.
Bran
was
riding
Dancer
around
the
yard
when
they
came
through
the
gate
.
He
trotted
over
to
greet
them
.
Cley
Cerwyn
had
always
been
a
friend
to
Bran
and
his
brothers
.
"
Good
morrow
,
Bran
,
"
Cley
called
out
cheerfully
.
"
Or
must
I
call
you
Prince
Bran
now
?
"
"
Only
if
you
want
.
"
Cley
laughed
.
"
Why
not
?
Everyone
else
is
a
king
or
prince
these
days
.
Did
Stannis
write
Winterfell
as
well
?
"
"
Stannis
?
I
don
’
t
know
.
"
"
He
’
s
a
king
now
too
,
"
Cley
confided
.
"
He
says
Queen
Cersei
bedded
her
brother
,
so
Joffrey
is
a
bastard
.
"
