-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Джордж Мартин
-
- Битва королей
-
- Стр. 370/853
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
Pycelle
clutched
for
a
corner
of
the
blanket
.
"
Birds
are
lost
,
messages
stolen
or
sold
.
.
.
it
was
Varys
,
there
are
things
I
might
tell
you
of
that
eunuch
that
would
chill
your
blood
.
.
.
"
"
My
lady
prefers
my
blood
hot
.
"
"
Make
no
mistake
,
for
every
secret
the
eunuch
whispers
in
your
ear
,
he
holds
seven
back
.
And
Littlefinger
,
that
one
.
.
.
"
"
I
know
all
about
Lord
Petyr
.
He
’
s
almost
as
untrustworthy
as
you
.
Shagga
,
cut
off
his
manhood
and
feed
it
to
the
goats
.
"
Shagga
hefted
the
huge
double
-
bladed
axe
.
"
There
are
no
goats
,
Halfman
.
"
"
Make
do
.
"
Roaring
,
Shagga
leapt
forward
.
Pycelle
shrieked
and
wet
the
bed
,
urine
spraying
in
all
directions
as
he
tried
to
scramble
back
out
of
reach
.
The
wildling
caught
him
by
the
end
of
his
billowy
white
beard
and
hacked
off
three
-
quarters
of
it
with
a
single
slash
of
the
axe
.
"
Timett
,
do
you
suppose
our
friend
will
be
more
forthcoming
without
those
whiskers
to
hide
behind
?
"
Tyrion
used
a
bit
of
the
sheet
to
wipe
the
piss
off
his
boots
.
"
He
will
tell
the
truth
soon
.
"
Darkness
pooled
in
the
empty
pit
of
Timett
’
s
burned
eye
.
"
I
can
smell
the
stink
of
his
fear
.
"
