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- Джордж Мартин
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Buried
in
the
Old
Bear
’
s
skull
,
like
as
not
.
Why
not
give
him
all
our
axes
,
and
our
swords
as
well
?
I
mislike
the
way
they
clank
and
rattle
as
we
ride
.
We
’
d
travel
faster
without
them
,
straight
to
hell
’
s
door
.
Does
it
rain
in
hell
,
I
wonder
?
Perhaps
Craster
would
like
a
nice
hat
instead
.
"
Jon
smiled
.
"
He
wants
an
axe
.
And
wine
as
well
.
"
"
See
,
the
Old
Bear
’
s
clever
.
If
we
get
the
wildling
well
and
truly
drunk
,
perhaps
he
’
ll
only
cut
off
an
ear
when
he
tries
to
slay
us
with
that
axe
.
I
have
two
ears
but
only
one
head
.
"
"
Smallwood
says
Craster
is
a
friend
to
the
Watch
.
"
"
Do
you
know
the
difference
between
a
wildling
who
’
s
a
friend
to
the
Watch
and
one
who
’
s
not
?
"
asked
the
dour
squire
.
"
Our
enemies
leave
our
bodies
for
the
crows
and
the
wolves
.
Our
friends
bury
us
in
secret
graves
.
I
wonder
how
long
that
bear
’
s
been
nailed
up
on
that
gate
,
and
what
Craster
had
there
before
we
came
hallooing
?
"
Edd
looked
at
the
axe
doubtfully
,
the
rain
running
down
his
long
face
.
"
Is
it
dry
in
there
?
"
"
Drier
than
out
here
.
"
"
If
I
lurk
about
after
,
not
too
close
to
the
fire
,
belike
they
’
ll
take
no
note
of
me
till
morn
.
The
ones
under
his
roof
will
be
the
first
he
murders
,
but
at
least
we
’
ll
die
dry
.
"
Jon
had
to
laugh
.
"
Craster
’
s
one
man
.
We
’
re
two
hundred
.
I
doubt
he
’
ll
murder
anyone
.
"
"
You
cheer
me
,
"
said
Edd
,
sounding
utterly
morose
.
"
And
besides
,
there
’
s
much
to
be
said
for
a
good
sharp
axe
.
I
’
d
hate
to
be
murdered
with
a
maul
.
I
saw
a
man
hit
in
the
brow
with
a
maul
once
.
Scarce
split
the
skin
at
all
,
but
his
head
turned
mushy
and
swelled
up
big
as
a
gourd
,
only
purply
-
red
.
A
comely
man
,
but
he
died
ugly
.
It
’
s
good
that
we
’
re
not
giving
them
mauls
.
"
Edd
walked
away
shaking
his
head
,
his
sodden
black
cloak
shedding
rain
behind
him
.
