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- Джордж Мартин
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- Стр. 419/853
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The
songs
said
that
Storm
’
s
End
had
been
raised
in
ancient
days
by
Durran
,
the
first
Storm
King
,
who
had
won
the
love
of
the
fair
Elenei
,
daughter
of
the
sea
god
and
the
goddess
of
the
wind
.
On
the
night
of
their
wedding
,
Elenei
had
yielded
her
maidenhood
to
a
mortal
’
s
love
and
thus
doomed
herself
to
a
mortal
’
s
death
,
and
her
grieving
parents
had
unleashed
their
wrath
and
sent
the
winds
and
waters
to
batter
down
Durran
’
s
hold
.
His
friends
and
brothers
and
wedding
guests
were
crushed
beneath
collapsing
walls
or
blown
out
to
sea
,
but
Elenei
sheltered
Durran
within
her
arms
so
he
took
no
harm
,
and
when
the
dawn
came
at
last
he
declared
war
upon
the
gods
and
vowed
to
rebuild
.
Five
more
castles
he
built
,
each
larger
and
stronger
than
the
last
,
only
to
see
them
smashed
asunder
when
the
gale
winds
came
howling
up
Shipbreaker
Bay
,
driving
great
walls
of
water
before
them
.
His
lords
pleaded
with
him
to
build
inland
;
his
priests
told
him
he
must
placate
the
gods
by
giving
Elenei
back
to
the
sea
;
even
his
smallfolk
begged
him
to
relent
.
Durran
would
have
none
of
it
.
A
seventh
castle
he
raised
,
most
massive
of
all
.
Some
said
the
children
of
the
forest
helped
him
build
it
,
shaping
the
stones
with
magic
;
others
claimed
that
a
small
boy
told
him
what
he
must
do
,
a
boy
who
would
grow
to
be
Bran
the
Builder
.
No
matter
how
the
tale
was
told
,
the
end
was
the
same
.
Though
the
angry
gods
threw
storm
after
storm
against
it
,
the
seventh
castle
stood
defiant
,
and
Durran
Godsgrief
and
fair
Elenei
dwelt
there
together
until
the
end
of
their
days
.
Gods
do
not
forget
,
and
still
the
gales
came
raging
up
the
narrow
sea
.
Yet
Storm
’
s
End
endured
,
through
centuries
and
tens
of
centuries
,
a
castle
like
no
other
.
Its
great
curtain
wall
was
a
hundred
feet
high
,
unbroken
by
arrow
slit
or
postern
,
everywhere
rounded
,
curving
,
smooth
,
its
stones
fit
so
cunningly
together
that
nowhere
was
crevice
nor
angle
nor
gap
by
which
the
wind
might
enter
.
That
wall
was
said
to
be
forty
feet
thick
at
its
narrowest
,
and
near
eighty
on
the
seaward
face
,
a
double
course
of
stones
with
an
inner
core
of
sand
and
rubble
.
Within
that
mighty
bulwark
,
the
kitchens
and
stables
and
yards
sheltered
safe
from
wind
and
wave
.
Of
towers
,
there
was
but
one
,
a
colossal
drum
tower
,
windowless
where
it
faced
the
sea
,
so
large
that
it
was
granary
and
barracks
and
feast
hall
and
lord
’
s
dwelling
all
in
one
,
crowned
by
massive
battlements
that
made
it
look
from
afar
like
a
spiked
fist
atop
an
up
-
thrust
arm
.
"
My
lady
,
"
Hal
Mollen
called
.
Two
riders
had
emerged
from
the
tidy
little
camp
beneath
the
castle
,
and
were
coming
toward
them
at
a
slow
walk
.
"
That
will
be
King
Stannis
.
"
"
No
doubt
.
"
Catelyn
watched
them
come
.
Stannis
it
must
be
,
yet
that
is
not
the
Baratheon
banner
.
It
was
a
bright
yellow
,
not
the
rich
gold
of
Renly
’
s
standards
,
and
the
device
it
bore
was
red
,
though
she
could
not
make
out
its
shape
.
Renly
would
be
last
to
arrive
.
He
had
told
her
as
much
when
she
set
out
.
He
did
not
propose
to
mount
his
horse
until
he
saw
his
brother
well
on
his
way
.
The
first
to
arrive
must
wait
on
the
other
,
and
Renly
would
do
no
waiting
.
It
is
a
sort
of
game
kings
play
,
she
told
herself
.
Well
,
she
was
no
king
,
so
she
need
not
play
it
.
Catelyn
was
practiced
at
waiting
.
As
he
neared
,
she
saw
that
Stannis
wore
a
crown
of
red
gold
with
points
fashioned
in
the
shape
of
flames
.
His
belt
was
studded
with
garnets
and
yellow
topaz
,
and
a
great
square
-
cut
ruby
was
set
in
the
hilt
of
the
sword
he
wore
.
Otherwise
his
dress
was
plain
:
studded
leather
jerkin
over
quilted
doublet
,
worn
boots
,
breeches
of
brown
rough
-
spun
.
The
device
on
his
sun
-
yellow
banner
showed
a
red
heart
surrounded
by
a
blaze
of
orange
fire
.
The
crowned
stag
was
there
,
yes
.
.
.
shrunken
and
enclosed
within
the
heart
.
Even
more
curious
was
his
standard
-
bearer
—
a
woman
,
garbed
all
in
reds
,
face
shadowed
within
the
deep
hood
of
her
scarlet
cloak
.
A
red
priestess
,
Catelyn
thought
,
wondering
.
The
sect
was
numerous
and
powerful
in
the
Free
Cities
and
the
distant
east
,
but
there
were
few
in
the
Seven
Kingdoms
.
"
Lady
Stark
,
"
Stannis
Baratheon
said
with
chill
courtesy
as
he
reined
up
.
He
inclined
his
head
,
balder
than
she
remembered
.
