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- Джордж Мартин
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The
king
was
growing
bored
.
It
made
Sansa
anxious
.
She
lowered
her
eyes
and
resolved
to
keep
quiet
,
no
matter
what
.
When
Joffrey
Baratheon
’
s
mood
darkened
,
any
chance
word
might
set
off
one
of
his
rages
.
"
Lothor
Brune
,
freerider
in
the
service
of
Lord
Baelish
,
"
cried
the
herald
.
"
Ser
Dontos
the
Red
,
of
House
Hollard
.
"
The
freerider
,
a
small
man
in
dented
plate
without
device
,
duly
appeared
at
the
west
end
of
the
yard
,
but
of
his
opponent
there
was
no
sign
.
Finally
a
chestnut
stallion
trotted
into
view
in
a
swirl
of
crimson
and
scarlet
silks
,
but
Ser
Dontos
was
not
on
it
.
The
knight
appeared
a
moment
later
,
cursing
and
staggering
,
clad
in
breastplate
and
plumed
helm
and
nothing
else
.
His
legs
were
pale
and
skinny
,
and
his
manhood
flopped
about
obscenely
as
he
chased
after
his
horse
.
The
watchers
roared
and
shouted
insults
.
Catching
his
horse
by
the
bridle
,
Ser
Dontos
tried
to
mount
,
but
the
animal
would
not
stand
still
and
the
knight
was
so
drunk
that
his
bare
foot
kept
missing
the
stirrup
.
By
then
the
crowd
was
howling
with
laughter
.
.
.
all
but
the
king
.
Joffrey
had
a
look
in
his
eyes
that
Sansa
remembered
well
,
the
same
look
he
’
d
had
at
the
Great
Sept
of
Baelor
the
day
he
pronounced
death
on
Lord
Eddard
Stark
.
Finally
Ser
Dontos
the
Red
gave
it
up
for
a
bad
job
,
sat
down
in
the
dirt
,
and
removed
his
plumed
helm
.
"
I
lose
,
"
he
shouted
.
"
Fetch
me
some
wine
.
"
The
king
stood
.
"
A
cask
from
the
cellars
!
I
’
ll
see
him
drowned
in
it
.
"
Sansa
heard
herself
gasp
.
"
No
,
you
can
’
t
.
"
Joffrey
turned
his
head
.
"
What
did
you
say
?
"
Sansa
could
not
believe
she
had
spoken
.
Was
she
mad
?
To
tell
him
no
in
front
of
half
the
court
?
She
hadn
’
t
meant
to
say
anything
,
only
.
.
.
Ser
Dontos
was
drunk
and
silly
and
useless
,
but
he
meant
no
harm
.
"
Did
you
say
I
can
’
t
?
Did
you
?
"
