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- Джордж Мартин
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- Стр. 406/853
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"
I
hear
he
was
taller
.
"
"
Not
after
Joff
took
off
his
head
.
You
ought
to
have
dressed
more
warmly
,
the
night
is
chill
.
"
"
Are
we
going
somewhere
?
"
"
Are
all
sellswords
as
clever
as
you
?
"
The
city
streets
were
dangerous
,
but
with
Bronn
beside
him
Tyrion
felt
safe
enough
.
The
guards
let
him
out
a
postern
gate
in
the
north
wall
,
and
they
rode
down
Shadowblack
Lane
to
the
foot
of
Aegon
’
s
High
Hill
,
and
thence
onto
Pigrun
Alley
,
past
rows
of
shuttered
windows
and
tall
timber
-
and
-
stone
buildings
whose
upper
stories
leaned
out
so
far
over
the
street
they
almost
kissed
.
The
moon
seemed
to
follow
them
as
they
went
,
playing
peek
-
and
-
sneak
among
the
chimneys
.
They
encountered
no
one
but
a
lone
old
crone
,
carrying
a
dead
cat
by
the
tail
.
She
gave
them
a
fearful
look
,
as
if
she
were
afraid
they
might
try
to
steal
her
dinner
,
and
slunk
off
into
the
shadows
without
a
word
.
Despite
the
hour
,
the
brothel
was
crowded
.
Chataya
greeted
them
pleasantly
and
escorted
them
to
the
common
room
.
Bronn
went
upstairs
with
a
dark
-
eyed
girl
from
Dorne
,
but
Alayaya
was
busy
entertaining
.
"
She
will
be
so
pleased
to
know
you
’
ve
come
,
"
said
Chataya
.
"
I
will
see
that
the
turret
room
is
made
ready
for
you
.
Will
my
lord
take
a
cup
of
wine
while
he
waits
?
"
"
I
will
,
"
he
said
.
The
wine
was
poor
stuff
compared
to
the
vintages
from
the
Arbor
the
house
normally
served
.
"
You
must
forgive
us
,
my
lord
,
"
Chataya
said
.
"
I
cannot
find
good
wine
at
any
price
of
late
.
"
"
You
are
not
alone
in
that
,
I
fear
.
"
