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- Джордж Мартин
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- Стр. 414/853
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Though
ravens
came
and
went
every
day
,
Lord
Tywin
himself
spent
most
of
his
days
behind
closed
doors
with
his
war
council
.
Arya
caught
glimpses
of
him
,
but
always
from
afar
—
once
walking
the
walls
in
the
company
of
three
maesters
and
the
fat
captive
with
the
bushy
mustache
,
once
riding
out
with
his
lords
bannermen
to
visit
the
encampments
,
but
most
often
standing
in
an
arch
of
the
covered
gallery
watching
men
at
practice
in
the
yard
below
.
He
stood
with
his
hands
locked
together
on
the
gold
pommel
of
his
longsword
.
They
said
Lord
Tywin
loved
gold
most
of
all
;
he
even
shit
gold
,
she
heard
one
squire
jest
.
The
Lannister
lord
was
strong
-
looking
for
an
old
man
,
with
stiff
golden
whiskers
and
a
bald
head
.
There
was
something
in
his
face
that
reminded
Arya
of
her
own
father
,
even
though
they
looked
nothing
alike
.
He
has
a
lord
’
s
face
,
that
’
s
all
,
she
told
herself
.
She
remembered
hearing
her
lady
mother
tell
Father
to
put
on
his
lord
’
s
face
and
go
deal
with
some
matter
.
Father
had
laughed
at
that
.
She
could
not
imagine
Lord
Tywin
ever
laughing
at
anything
.
One
afternoon
,
while
she
was
waiting
her
turn
to
draw
a
pail
of
water
from
the
well
,
she
heard
the
hinges
of
the
east
gate
groaning
.
A
party
of
men
rode
under
the
portcullis
at
a
walk
.
When
she
spied
the
manticore
crawling
across
the
shield
of
their
leader
,
a
stab
of
hate
shot
through
her
.
In
the
light
of
day
,
Ser
Amory
Lorch
looked
less
frightening
than
he
had
by
torchlight
,
but
he
still
had
the
pig
’
s
eyes
she
recalled
.
One
of
the
women
said
that
his
men
had
ridden
all
the
way
around
the
lake
chasing
Beric
Dondarrion
and
slaying
rebels
.
We
weren
’
t
rebels
,
Arya
thought
.
We
were
the
Night
’
s
Watch
;
the
Night
’
s
Watch
takes
no
side
.
Ser
Amory
had
fewer
men
than
she
remembered
,
though
,
and
many
wounded
.
I
hope
their
wounds
fester
.
I
hope
they
all
die
.
Then
she
saw
the
three
near
the
end
of
the
column
.
Rorge
had
donned
a
black
half
-
helm
with
a
broad
iron
nasal
that
made
it
hard
to
see
that
he
did
not
have
a
nose
.
Biter
rode
ponderously
beside
him
on
a
destrier
that
looked
ready
to
collapse
under
his
weight
.
Half
-
healed
burns
covered
his
body
,
making
him
even
more
hideous
than
before
.
But
Jaqen
H
’
ghar
still
smiled
.
His
garb
was
still
ragged
and
filthy
,
but
he
had
found
time
to
wash
and
brush
his
hair
.
It
streamed
down
across
his
shoulders
,
red
and
white
and
shiny
,
and
Arya
heard
the
girls
giggling
to
each
other
in
admiration
.
I
should
have
let
the
fire
have
them
.
Gendry
said
to
,
I
should
have
listened
.
If
she
hadn
’
t
thrown
them
that
axe
they
’
d
all
be
dead
.
For
a
moment
she
was
afraid
,
but
they
rode
past
her
without
a
flicker
of
interest
.
Only
Jaqen
H
’
ghar
so
much
as
glanced
in
her
direction
,
and
his
eyes
passed
right
over
her
.
He
does
not
know
me
,
she
thought
.
Arry
was
a
fierce
little
boy
with
a
sword
,
and
I
’
m
just
a
grey
mouse
girl
with
a
pail
.
She
spent
the
rest
of
that
day
scrubbing
steps
inside
the
Wailing
Tower
.
By
evenfall
her
hands
were
raw
and
bleeding
and
her
arms
so
sore
they
trembled
when
she
lugged
the
pail
back
to
the
cellar
.
Too
tired
even
for
food
,
Arya
begged
Weese
’
s
pardons
and
crawled
into
her
straw
to
sleep
.
