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- Джордж Мартин
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"
What
need
do
we
have
of
horses
?
"
Like
most
ironmen
,
Dagmer
preferred
to
fight
on
foot
or
from
the
deck
of
a
ship
.
"
Horses
will
only
shit
on
our
decks
and
get
in
our
way
.
"
"
If
we
sailed
,
yes
,
"
Theon
admitted
.
"
I
have
another
plan
.
"
He
watched
the
other
carefully
to
see
how
he
would
take
that
.
Without
the
Cleftjaw
he
could
not
hope
to
succeed
.
Command
or
no
,
the
men
would
never
follow
him
if
both
Aeron
and
Dagmer
opposed
him
,
and
he
had
no
hope
of
winning
over
the
sour
-
faced
priest
.
"
Your
lord
father
commanded
us
to
harry
the
coast
,
no
more
.
"
Eyes
pale
as
sea
foam
watched
Theon
from
under
those
shaggy
white
eyebrows
.
Was
it
disapproval
he
saw
there
,
or
a
spark
of
interest
?
The
latter
,
he
thought
.
.
.
hoped
.
.
.
"
You
are
my
father
’
s
man
.
"
"
His
best
man
,
and
always
have
been
.
"
Pride
,
Theon
thought
.
He
is
proud
,
I
must
use
that
,
his
pride
will
be
the
key
.
"
There
is
no
man
in
the
Iron
Islands
half
so
skilled
with
spear
or
sword
.
"
"
You
have
been
too
long
away
,
boy
.
When
you
left
,
it
was
as
you
say
,
but
I
am
grown
old
in
Lord
Greyjoy
’
s
service
.
The
singers
call
Andrik
best
now
.
Andrik
the
Unsmiling
,
they
name
him
.
A
giant
of
a
man
.
He
serves
Lord
Drumm
of
Old
Wyk
.
And
Black
Lorren
and
Qarl
the
Maid
are
near
as
dread
.
"
"
This
Andrik
may
be
a
great
fighter
,
but
men
do
not
fear
him
as
they
fear
you
.
"
"
Aye
,
that
’
s
so
,
"
Dagmer
said
.
The
fingers
curled
around
the
drinking
horn
were
heavy
with
rings
,
gold
and
silver
and
bronze
,
set
with
chunks
of
sapphire
and
garnet
and
dragonglass
.
He
had
paid
the
iron
price
for
every
one
,
Theon
knew
.
"
If
I
had
a
man
like
you
in
my
service
,
I
should
not
waste
him
on
this
child
’
s
business
of
harrying
and
burning
.
This
is
no
work
for
Lord
Balon
’
s
best
man
.
.
.
"
