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- Джордж Мартин
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Sweet
it
was
,
sweet
and
gone
too
soon
.
Dawn
came
cruel
,
a
dagger
of
light
.
She
woke
aching
and
alone
and
weary
;
weary
of
riding
,
weary
of
hurting
,
weary
of
duty
.
I
want
to
weep
,
she
thought
.
I
want
to
be
comforted
.
I
’
m
so
tired
of
being
strong
.
I
want
to
be
foolish
and
frightened
for
once
.
Just
for
a
small
while
,
that
’
s
all
.
.
.
a
day
.
.
.
an
hour
.
.
.
Outside
her
tent
,
men
were
stirring
.
She
heard
the
whicker
of
horses
,
Shadd
complaining
of
stiffness
in
his
back
,
Ser
Wendel
calling
for
his
bow
.
Catelyn
wished
they
would
all
go
away
.
They
were
good
men
,
loyal
,
yet
she
was
tired
of
them
all
.
It
was
her
children
she
yearned
after
.
One
day
,
she
promised
herself
as
she
lay
abed
,
one
day
she
would
allow
herself
to
be
less
than
strong
.
But
not
today
.
It
could
not
be
today
.
Her
fingers
seemed
more
clumsy
than
usual
as
she
fumbled
on
her
clothes
.
She
supposed
she
ought
to
be
grateful
that
she
had
any
use
of
her
hands
at
all
.
The
dagger
had
been
Valyrian
steel
,
and
Valyrian
steel
bites
deep
and
sharp
.
She
had
only
to
look
at
the
scars
to
remember
.
Outside
,
Shadd
was
stirring
oats
into
a
kettle
,
while
Ser
Wendel
Manderly
sat
stringing
his
bow
.
"
My
lady
,
"
he
said
when
Catelyn
emerged
.
"
There
are
birds
in
this
grass
.
Would
you
fancy
a
roast
quail
to
break
your
fast
this
morning
?
"
"
Oats
and
bread
are
sufficient
.
.
.
for
all
of
us
,
I
think
.
We
have
many
leagues
yet
to
ride
,
Ser
Wendel
.
"
"
As
you
will
,
my
lady
.
"
The
knight
’
s
moon
face
looked
crestfallen
,
the
tips
of
his
great
walrus
mustache
twitching
with
disappointment
.
"
Oats
and
bread
,
and
what
could
be
better
?
"
He
was
one
of
the
fattest
men
Catelyn
had
ever
known
,
but
howevermuch
he
loved
his
food
,
he
loved
his
honor
more
.
"
Found
some
nettles
and
brewed
a
tea
,
"
Shadd
announced
.
"
Will
m
’
lady
take
a
cup
?
"
"
Yes
,
with
thanks
.
"
