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- Джордж Мартин
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He
could
not
be
older
than
one
-
and
-
twenty
,
Catelyn
thought
,
of
an
age
with
his
king
.
.
.
but
her
king
,
her
Robb
,
had
more
wisdom
at
fifteen
than
this
youth
had
ever
learned
.
Or
so
she
prayed
.
In
Catelyn
’
s
small
corner
of
the
camp
,
Shadd
was
slicing
carrots
into
a
kettle
,
Hal
Mollen
was
dicing
with
three
of
his
Winterfell
men
,
and
Lucas
Blackwood
sat
sharpening
his
dagger
.
"
Lady
Stark
,
"
Lucas
said
when
he
saw
her
,
"
Mollen
says
it
is
to
be
battle
at
dawn
.
"
"
Hal
has
the
truth
of
it
,
"
she
answered
.
And
a
loose
tongue
as
well
,
it
would
seem
.
"
Do
we
fight
or
flee
?
"
"
We
pray
,
Lucas
,
"
she
answered
him
.
"
We
pray
.
"
"
The
longer
you
keep
him
waiting
,
the
worse
it
will
go
for
you
,
"
Sandor
Clegane
warned
her
.
Sansa
tried
to
hurry
,
but
her
fingers
fumbled
at
buttons
and
knots
.
The
Hound
was
always
rough
-
tongued
,
but
something
in
the
way
he
had
looked
at
her
filled
her
with
dread
.
Had
Joffrey
found
out
about
her
meetings
with
Ser
Dontos
?
Please
no
,
she
thought
as
she
brushed
out
her
hair
.
Ser
Dontos
was
her
only
hope
.
I
have
to
look
pretty
,
Joff
likes
me
to
look
pretty
,
he
’
s
always
liked
me
in
this
gown
,
this
color
.
She
smoothed
the
cloth
down
.
The
fabric
was
tight
across
her
chest
.
When
she
emerged
,
Sansa
walked
on
the
Hound
’
s
left
,
away
from
the
burned
side
of
his
face
.
"
Tell
me
what
I
’
ve
done
.
"
"
Not
you
.
Your
kingly
brother
.
"
"
Robb
’
s
a
traitor
.
"
Sansa
knew
the
words
by
rote
.
"
I
had
no
part
in
whatever
he
did
.
"
Gods
be
good
,
don
’
t
let
it
be
the
Kingslayer
.
If
Robb
had
harmed
Jaime
Lannister
,
it
would
mean
her
life
.
She
thought
of
Ser
Ilyn
,
and
how
those
terrible
pale
eyes
stared
pitilessly
out
of
that
gaunt
pockmarked
face
.
