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- Джордж Мартин
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"
Oho
.
Sigrin
told
me
this
sweet
ship
is
wasted
on
you
.
"
Theon
bristled
.
"
Do
you
know
who
I
am
?
"
"
Prince
Theon
of
House
Greyjoy
.
Who
else
?
Tell
me
true
,
my
lord
,
how
well
do
you
love
her
,
this
new
maid
of
yours
?
Sigrin
will
want
to
know
.
"
The
longship
was
so
new
that
she
still
smelled
of
pitch
and
resin
.
His
uncle
Aeron
would
bless
her
on
the
morrow
,
but
Theon
had
ridden
over
from
Pyke
to
get
a
look
at
her
before
she
was
launched
.
She
was
not
so
large
as
Lord
Balon
’
s
own
Great
Kraken
or
his
uncle
Victarion
’
s
Iron
Victory
,
but
she
looked
swift
and
sweet
,
even
sitting
in
her
wooden
cradle
on
the
strand
;
lean
black
hull
a
hundred
feet
long
,
a
single
tall
mast
,
fifty
long
oars
,
deck
enough
for
a
hundred
men
.
.
.
and
at
the
prow
,
the
great
iron
ram
in
the
shape
of
an
arrowhead
.
"
Sigrin
did
me
good
service
,
"
he
admitted
.
"
Is
she
as
fast
as
she
looks
?
"
"
Faster
—
for
a
master
that
knows
how
to
handle
her
.
"
"
It
has
been
a
few
years
since
I
sailed
a
ship
.
"
And
I
’
ve
never
captained
one
,
if
truth
be
told
.
"
Still
,
I
’
m
a
Greyjoy
,
and
an
ironman
.
The
sea
is
in
my
blood
.
"
"
And
your
blood
will
be
in
the
sea
,
if
you
sail
the
way
you
talk
,
"
she
told
him
.
"
I
would
never
mistreat
such
a
fair
maiden
.
"
"
Fair
maiden
?
"
She
laughed
.
"
She
’
s
a
sea
bitch
,
this
one
.
"
"
There
,
and
now
you
’
ve
named
her
.
Sea
Bitch
.
"
