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- Джордж Мартин
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"
Here
’
s
something
you
don
’
t
know
.
It
wasn
’
t
supposed
to
happen
like
it
did
.
I
was
set
to
leave
,
wagons
bought
and
loaded
,
and
a
man
comes
with
a
boy
for
me
,
and
a
purse
of
coin
,
and
a
message
,
never
mind
who
it
’
s
from
.
Lord
Eddard
’
s
to
take
the
black
,
he
says
to
me
,
wait
,
he
’
ll
be
going
with
you
.
Why
d
’
you
think
I
was
there
?
Only
something
went
queer
.
"
"
Joffrey
,
"
Arya
breathed
.
"
Someone
should
kill
him
!
"
"
Someone
will
,
but
it
won
’
t
be
me
,
nor
you
neither
.
"
Yoren
tossed
back
her
stick
sword
.
"
Got
sourleaf
back
at
the
wagons
,
"
he
said
as
they
made
their
way
back
to
the
road
.
"
You
’
ll
chew
some
,
it
’
ll
help
with
the
sting
.
"
It
did
help
,
some
,
though
the
taste
of
it
was
foul
and
it
made
her
spit
look
like
blood
.
Even
so
,
she
walked
for
the
rest
of
that
day
,
and
the
day
after
,
and
the
day
after
that
,
too
raw
to
sit
a
donkey
.
Hot
Pie
was
worse
off
;
Yoren
had
to
shift
some
barrels
around
so
he
could
lie
in
the
back
of
a
wagon
on
some
sacks
of
barley
,
and
he
whimpered
every
time
the
wheels
hit
a
rock
.
Lommy
Greenhands
wasn
’
t
even
hurt
,
yet
he
stayed
as
far
away
from
Arya
as
he
could
get
.
"
Every
time
you
look
at
him
,
he
twitches
,
"
the
Bull
told
her
as
she
walked
beside
his
donkey
.
She
did
not
answer
.
It
seemed
safer
not
to
talk
to
anyone
.
That
night
she
lay
upon
her
thin
blanket
on
the
hard
ground
,
staring
up
at
the
great
red
comet
.
The
comet
was
splendid
and
scary
all
at
once
.
"
The
Red
Sword
,
"
the
Bull
named
it
;
he
claimed
it
looked
like
a
sword
,
the
blade
still
red
-
hot
from
the
forge
.
When
Arya
squinted
the
right
way
she
could
see
the
sword
too
,
only
it
wasn
’
t
a
new
sword
,
it
was
Ice
,
her
father
’
s
greatsword
,
all
ripply
Valyrian
steel
,
and
the
red
was
Lord
Eddard
’
s
blood
on
the
blade
after
Ser
Ilyn
the
King
’
s
Justice
had
cut
off
his
head
Yoren
had
made
her
look
away
when
it
happened
,
yet
it
seemed
to
her
that
the
comet
looked
like
Ice
must
have
,
after
.
When
at
last
she
slept
,
she
dreamed
of
home
.
The
kingsroad
wound
its
way
past
Winterfell
on
its
way
to
the
Wall
,
and
Yoren
had
promised
he
’
d
leave
her
there
with
no
one
any
wiser
about
who
she
’
d
been
.
She
yearned
to
see
her
mother
again
,
and
Robb
and
Bran
and
Rickon
.
.
.
but
it
was
Jon
Snow
she
thought
of
most
.
She
wished
somehow
they
could
come
to
the
Wall
before
Winterfell
,
so
Jon
might
muss
up
her
hair
and
call
her
"
little
sister
.
"
She
’
d
tell
him
,
"
I
missed
you
,
"
and
he
’
d
say
it
too
at
the
very
same
moment
,
the
way
they
always
used
to
say
things
together
.
She
would
have
liked
that
.
She
would
have
liked
that
better
than
anything
.
The
morning
of
King
Joffrey
’
s
name
day
dawned
bright
and
windy
,
with
the
long
tail
of
the
great
comet
visible
through
the
high
scuttling
clouds
.
Sansa
was
watching
it
from
her
tower
window
when
Ser
Arys
Oakheart
arrived
to
escort
her
down
to
the
tourney
grounds
.
"
What
do
you
think
it
means
?
"
she
asked
him
.
"
Glory
to
your
betrothed
,
"
Ser
Arys
answered
at
once
.
"
See
how
it
flames
across
the
sky
today
on
His
Grace
’
s
name
day
,
as
if
the
gods
themselves
had
raised
a
banner
in
his
honor
.
The
smallfolk
have
named
it
King
Joffrey
’
s
Comet
.
"
