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- Джордж Мартин
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Craster
wiped
his
drooping
mouth
with
the
back
of
a
hairy
hand
.
"
I
’
ll
taste
your
wine
,
Lord
Crow
,
that
I
will
.
One
more
thing
.
Any
man
lays
a
hand
on
my
wives
,
he
loses
the
hand
.
"
"
Your
roof
,
your
rule
,
"
said
Thoren
Smallwood
,
and
Lord
Mormont
nodded
stiffly
,
though
he
looked
none
too
pleased
.
"
That
’
s
settled
,
then
.
"
Craster
grudged
them
a
grunt
.
"
D
’
ya
have
a
man
can
draw
a
map
?
"
"
Sam
Tarly
can
.
"
Jon
pushed
forward
.
"
Sam
loves
maps
.
"
Mormont
beckoned
him
closer
.
"
Send
him
here
after
he
’
s
eaten
.
Have
him
bring
quill
and
parchment
.
And
find
Tollett
as
well
.
Tell
him
to
bring
my
axe
.
A
guest
gift
for
our
host
.
"
"
Who
’
s
this
one
now
?
"
Craster
said
before
Jon
could
go
.
"
He
has
the
look
of
a
Stark
.
"
"
My
steward
and
squire
,
Jon
Snow
.
"
"
A
bastard
,
is
it
?
"
Craster
looked
Jon
up
and
down
.
"
Man
wants
to
bed
a
woman
,
seems
like
he
ought
to
take
her
to
wife
.
That
’
s
what
I
do
.
"
He
shooed
Jon
off
with
a
wave
.
"
Well
,
run
and
do
your
service
,
bastard
,
and
see
that
axe
is
good
and
sharp
now
,
I
’
ve
no
use
for
dull
steel
.
"
Jon
Snow
bowed
stiffly
and
took
his
leave
.
Ser
Ottyn
Wythers
was
coming
in
as
he
was
leaving
,
and
they
almost
collided
at
the
deerhide
door
.
Outside
,
the
rain
seemed
to
have
slackened
.
Tents
had
gone
up
all
over
the
compound
.
Jon
could
see
the
tops
of
others
under
the
trees
.
Dolorous
Edd
was
feeding
the
horses
.
"
Give
the
wildling
an
axe
,
why
not
?
"
He
pointed
out
Mormont
’
s
weapon
,
a
short
-
hafted
battle
-
axe
with
gold
scrollwork
inlaid
on
the
black
steel
blade
.
"
He
’
ll
give
it
back
,
I
vow
.
