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- Джордж Мартин
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Uncle
Aeron
was
relentless
.
"
When
he
spits
on
you
,
he
spits
on
all
of
us
.
He
spits
on
the
Drowned
God
.
He
must
die
.
"
"
My
father
gave
me
the
command
here
,
Uncle
.
"
"
And
sent
me
to
counsel
you
.
"
And
to
watch
me
.
Theon
dare
not
push
matters
too
far
with
his
uncle
.
The
command
was
his
,
yes
,
but
his
men
had
a
faith
in
the
Drowned
God
that
they
did
not
have
in
him
,
and
they
were
terrified
of
Aeron
Damphair
.
I
cannot
fault
them
for
that
.
"
You
’
ll
lose
your
head
for
this
,
Greyjoy
.
The
crows
will
eat
the
jelly
of
your
eyes
.
"
Benfred
tried
to
spit
again
,
but
only
managed
a
little
blood
.
"
The
Others
bugger
your
wet
god
.
"
Tallhart
,
you
’
ve
spit
away
your
life
,
Theon
thought
.
"
Stygg
,
silence
him
,
"
he
said
.
They
forced
Benfred
to
his
knees
.
Werlag
tore
the
rabbitskin
off
his
belt
and
jammed
it
between
his
teeth
to
stop
his
shouting
.
Stygg
unlimbered
his
axe
.
"
No
,
"
Aeron
Damphair
declared
.
"
He
must
be
given
to
the
god
.
The
old
way
.
"
What
does
it
matter
?
Dead
is
dead
.
"
Take
him
,
then
.
"
