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- Джордж Мартин
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- Стр. 417/853
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"
After
the
Hand
’
s
tourney
,
it
were
,
before
the
war
come
,
"
Chiswyck
was
saying
.
"
We
were
on
our
ways
back
west
,
seven
of
us
with
Ser
Gregor
.
Raff
was
with
me
,
and
young
Joss
Stilwood
,
he
’
d
squired
for
Ser
in
the
lists
.
Well
,
we
come
on
this
pisswater
river
,
running
high
on
account
there
’
d
been
rains
.
No
way
to
ford
,
but
there
’
s
an
alehouse
near
,
so
there
we
repair
.
Ser
rousts
the
brewer
and
tells
him
to
keep
our
horns
full
till
the
waters
fall
,
and
you
should
see
the
man
’
s
pig
eyes
shine
at
the
sight
o
’
silver
.
So
he
’
s
fetching
us
ale
,
him
and
his
daughter
,
and
poor
thin
stuff
it
is
,
no
more
’
n
brown
piss
,
which
don
’
t
make
me
any
happier
,
nor
Ser
neither
.
And
all
the
time
this
brewer
’
s
saying
how
glad
he
is
to
have
us
,
custom
being
slow
on
account
o
’
them
rains
.
The
fool
won
’
t
shut
his
yap
,
not
him
,
though
Ser
is
saying
not
a
word
,
just
brooding
on
the
Knight
o
’
Pansies
and
that
bugger
’
s
trick
he
played
.
You
can
see
how
tight
his
mouth
sits
,
so
me
and
the
other
lads
we
know
better
’
n
to
say
a
squeak
to
him
,
but
this
brewer
he
’
s
got
to
talk
,
he
even
asks
how
m
’
lord
fared
in
the
jousting
.
Ser
just
gave
him
this
look
.
"
Chiswyck
cackled
,
quaffed
his
ale
,
and
wiped
the
foam
away
with
the
back
of
his
hand
.
"
Meanwhile
,
this
daughter
of
his
has
been
fetching
and
pouring
,
a
fat
little
thing
,
eighteen
or
so
—
"
"
Thirteen
,
more
like
,
"
Raff
the
Sweetling
drawled
.
"
Well
,
be
that
as
it
may
,
she
’
s
not
much
to
look
at
,
but
Eggon
’
s
been
drinking
and
gets
to
touching
her
,
and
might
be
I
did
a
little
touching
meself
,
and
Raff
’
s
telling
young
Stilwood
that
he
ought
t
’
drag
the
girl
upstairs
and
make
hisself
a
man
,
giving
the
lad
courage
as
it
were
.
Finally
Joss
reaches
up
under
her
skirt
,
and
she
shrieks
and
drops
her
flagon
and
goes
running
off
to
the
kitchen
.
Well
,
it
would
have
ended
right
there
,
only
what
does
the
old
fool
do
but
he
goes
to
Ser
and
asks
him
to
make
us
leave
the
girl
alone
,
him
being
an
anointed
knight
and
all
such
.
"
"
Ser
Gregor
,
he
wasn
’
t
paying
no
mind
to
none
of
our
fun
,
but
now
he
looks
,
you
know
how
he
does
,
and
he
commands
that
the
girl
be
brought
before
him
.
Now
the
old
man
has
to
drag
her
out
of
the
kitchen
,
and
no
one
to
blame
but
hisself
.
Ser
looks
her
over
and
says
,
‘
So
this
is
the
whore
you
’
re
so
concerned
for
’
and
this
besotted
old
fool
says
,
‘
My
Layna
’
s
no
whore
,
ser
’
right
to
Gregor
’
s
face
.
Ser
,
he
never
blinks
,
just
says
,
‘
She
is
now
’
tosses
the
old
man
another
silver
,
rips
the
dress
off
the
wench
,
and
takes
her
right
there
on
the
table
in
front
of
her
da
,
her
flopping
and
wiggling
like
a
rabbit
and
making
these
noises
.
The
look
on
the
old
man
’
s
face
,
I
laughed
so
hard
ale
was
coming
out
me
nose
.
Then
this
boy
hears
the
noise
,
the
son
I
figure
,
and
comes
rushing
up
from
the
cellar
,
so
Raff
has
to
stick
a
dirk
in
his
belly
.
By
then
Ser
’
s
done
,
so
he
goes
back
to
his
drinking
and
we
all
have
a
turn
.
Tobbot
,
you
know
how
he
is
,
he
flops
her
over
and
goes
in
the
back
way
.
The
girl
was
done
fighting
by
the
time
I
had
her
,
maybe
she
’
d
decided
she
liked
it
after
all
,
though
to
tell
the
truth
I
wouldn
’
t
have
minded
a
little
wiggling
.
And
now
here
’
s
the
best
bit
.
.
.
when
it
’
s
all
done
,
Ser
tells
the
old
man
that
he
wants
his
change
.
The
girl
wasn
’
t
worth
a
silver
,
he
says
.
.
.
and
damned
if
that
old
man
didn
’
t
fetch
a
fistful
of
coppers
,
beg
m
’
lord
’
s
pardon
,
and
thank
him
for
the
custom
!
"
The
men
all
roared
,
none
louder
than
Chiswyck
himself
,
who
laughed
so
hard
at
his
own
story
that
snot
dribbled
from
his
nose
down
into
his
scraggy
grey
beard
.
Arya
stood
in
the
shadows
of
the
stairwell
and
watched
him
.
She
crept
back
down
to
the
cellars
without
saying
a
word
.
When
Weese
found
that
she
hadn
’
t
asked
about
the
clothes
,
he
yanked
down
her
breeches
and
caned
her
until
blood
ran
down
her
thighs
,
but
Arya
closed
her
eyes
and
thought
of
all
the
sayings
Syrio
had
taught
her
,
so
she
scarcely
felt
it
.
Two
nights
later
,
he
sent
her
to
the
Barracks
Hall
to
serve
at
table
.
She
was
carrying
a
flagon
of
wine
and
pouring
when
she
glimpsed
Jaqen
H
’
ghar
at
his
trencher
across
the
aisle
.
Chewing
her
lip
,
Arya
glanced
around
warily
to
make
certain
Weese
was
not
in
sight
.
Fear
cuts
deeper
than
swords
,
she
told
herself
.
She
took
a
step
,
and
another
,
and
with
each
she
felt
less
a
mouse
.
She
worked
her
way
down
the
bench
,
filling
wine
cups
.
Rorge
sat
to
Jaqen
’
s
right
,
deep
drunk
,
but
he
took
no
note
of
her
Arya
leaned
close
and
whispered
,
"
Chiswyck
,
"
right
in
Jaqen
’
s
ear
.
The
Lorathi
gave
no
sign
that
he
had
heard
.
When
her
flagon
was
empty
,
Arya
hurried
down
to
the
cellars
to
refill
it
from
the
cask
,
and
quickly
returned
to
her
pouring
.
No
one
had
died
of
thirst
while
she
was
gone
,
nor
even
noted
her
brief
absence
.
