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- Джордж Мартин
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"
We
crossed
a
brook
at
the
foot
of
the
hill
.
"
"
A
long
climb
for
a
drink
,
"
Jon
pointed
out
,
"
and
outside
the
ring
of
stones
.
"
Thoren
said
,
"
Are
you
too
lazy
to
climb
a
hill
,
boy
?
"
When
Lord
Mormont
said
,
"
We
’
re
not
like
to
find
another
place
as
strong
.
We
’
ll
carry
water
,
and
make
certain
we
are
well
supplied
,
"
Jon
knew
better
than
to
argue
.
So
the
command
was
given
,
and
the
brothers
of
the
Night
’
s
Watch
raised
their
camp
behind
the
stone
ring
the
First
Men
had
made
.
Black
tents
sprouted
like
mushrooms
after
a
rain
,
and
blankets
and
bedrolls
covered
the
bare
ground
.
Stewards
tethered
the
garrons
in
long
lines
,
and
saw
them
fed
and
watered
.
Foresters
took
their
axes
to
the
trees
in
the
waning
afternoon
light
to
harvest
enough
wood
to
see
them
through
the
night
.
A
score
of
builders
set
to
clearing
brush
,
digging
latrines
,
and
untying
their
bundles
of
fire
-
hardened
stakes
.
"
I
will
have
every
opening
in
the
ringwall
ditched
and
staked
before
dark
,
"
the
Old
Bear
had
commanded
.
Once
he
’
d
put
up
the
Lord
Commander
’
s
tent
and
seen
to
their
horses
,
Jon
Snow
descended
the
hill
in
search
of
Ghost
.
The
direwolf
came
at
once
,
all
in
silence
.
One
moment
Jon
was
striding
beneath
the
trees
,
whistling
and
shouting
,
alone
in
the
green
,
pinecones
and
fallen
leaves
under
his
feet
;
the
next
,
the
great
white
direwolf
was
walking
beside
him
,
pale
as
morning
mist
.
But
when
they
reached
the
ringfort
,
Ghost
balked
again
.
He
padded
forward
warily
to
sniff
at
the
gap
in
the
stones
,
and
then
retreated
,
as
if
he
did
not
like
what
he
’
d
smelled
.
Jon
tried
to
grab
him
by
the
scruff
of
his
neck
and
haul
him
bodily
inside
the
ring
,
no
easy
task
;
the
wolf
weighed
as
much
as
he
did
,
and
was
stronger
by
far
.
"
Ghost
,
what
’
s
wrong
with
you
?
"
It
was
not
like
him
to
be
so
unsettled
.
In
the
end
Jon
had
to
give
it
up
.
"
As
you
will
,
"
he
told
the
wolf
.
"
Go
,
hunt
.
"
The
red
eyes
watched
him
as
he
made
his
way
back
through
the
mossy
stones
.
They
ought
to
be
safe
here
.
The
hill
offered
commanding
views
,
and
the
slopes
were
precipitous
to
the
north
and
west
and
only
slightly
more
gentle
to
the
east
.
Yet
as
the
dusk
deepened
and
darkness
seeped
into
the
hollows
between
the
trees
,
Jon
’
s
sense
of
foreboding
grew
.
This
is
the
haunted
forest
,
he
told
himself
.
Maybe
there
are
ghosts
here
,
the
spirits
of
the
First
Men
.
This
was
their
place
,
once
.
"
Stop
acting
the
boy
,
"
he
told
himself
.
Clambering
atop
the
piled
rocks
,
Jon
gazed
off
toward
the
setting
sun
.
He
could
see
the
light
shimmering
like
hammered
gold
off
the
surface
of
the
Milkwater
as
it
curved
away
to
the
south
.
Upriver
the
land
was
more
rugged
,
the
dense
forest
giving
way
to
a
series
of
bare
stony
hills
that
rose
high
and
wild
to
the
north
and
west
.
On
the
horizon
stood
the
mountains
like
a
great
shadow
,
range
on
range
of
them
receding
into
the
blue
-
grey
distance
,
their
jagged
peaks
sheathed
eternally
in
snow
.
Even
from
afar
they
looked
vast
and
cold
and
inhospitable
.
