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- Джордж Мартин
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- Стр. 452/853
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It
made
sense
enough
for
Brienne
.
"
I
will
kill
him
,
"
the
tall
homely
girl
declared
.
"
With
my
lord
’
s
own
sword
,
I
will
kill
him
.
I
swear
it
.
I
swear
it
.
I
swear
it
.
"
Hal
Mollen
and
the
rest
of
her
escort
were
waiting
with
the
horses
.
Ser
Wendel
Manderly
was
all
in
a
lather
to
know
what
was
happening
.
"
My
lady
,
the
camp
has
gone
mad
,
"
he
blurted
when
he
saw
them
.
"
Lord
Renly
,
is
he
—
"
He
stopped
suddenly
,
staring
at
Brienne
and
the
blood
that
drenched
her
.
"
Dead
,
but
not
by
our
hands
.
"
"
The
battle
—
"
Hal
Mollen
began
.
"
There
will
be
no
battle
.
"
Catelyn
mounted
,
and
her
escort
formed
up
about
her
,
with
Ser
Wendel
to
her
left
and
Ser
Perwyn
Frey
on
her
right
.
"
Brienne
,
we
brought
mounts
enough
for
twice
our
number
.
Choose
one
,
and
come
with
us
.
"
"
I
have
my
own
horse
,
my
lady
.
And
my
armor
—
"
"
Leave
them
We
must
be
well
away
before
they
think
to
look
for
us
.
We
were
both
with
the
king
when
he
was
killed
.
That
will
not
be
forgotten
.
"
Wordless
,
Brienne
turned
and
did
as
she
was
bid
.
"
Ride
,
"
Catelyn
commanded
her
escort
when
they
were
all
ahorse
.
"
If
any
man
tries
to
stop
us
,
cut
him
down
.
"
As
the
long
fingers
of
dawn
fanned
across
the
fields
,
color
was
returning
to
the
world
.
Where
grey
men
had
sat
grey
horses
armed
with
shadow
spears
,
the
points
of
ten
thousand
lances
now
glinted
silverly
cold
,
and
on
the
myriad
flapping
banners
Catelyn
saw
the
blush
of
red
and
pink
and
orange
,
the
richness
of
blues
and
browns
,
the
blaze
of
gold
and
yellow
.
All
the
power
of
Storm
’
s
End
and
Highgarden
,
the
power
that
had
been
Renly
’
s
an
hour
ago
.
They
belong
to
Stannis
now
,
she
realized
,
even
if
they
do
not
know
it
themselves
yet
.
Where
else
are
they
to
turn
,
if
not
to
the
last
Baratheon
?
Stannis
has
won
all
with
a
single
evil
stroke
.
I
am
the
rightful
king
,
he
had
declared
,
his
jaw
clenched
hard
as
iron
,
and
your
son
no
less
a
traitor
than
my
brother
here
.
His
day
will
come
as
well
.
