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- Джордж Мартин
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- Стр. 494/853
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For
a
moment
she
had
been
a
wolf
again
,
but
Weese
’
s
slap
took
it
all
away
and
left
her
with
nothing
but
the
taste
of
her
own
blood
in
her
mouth
.
She
’
d
bitten
her
tongue
when
he
hit
her
.
She
hated
him
for
that
.
"
You
want
another
?
"
Weese
demanded
.
"
You
’
ll
get
it
too
.
I
’
ll
have
none
of
your
insolent
looks
.
Get
down
to
the
brewhouse
and
tell
Tuffleberry
that
I
have
two
dozen
barrels
for
him
,
but
he
better
send
his
lads
to
fetch
them
or
I
’
ll
find
someone
wants
‘
em
worse
.
"
Arya
started
off
,
but
not
quick
enough
for
Weese
.
"
You
run
if
you
want
to
eat
tonight
,
"
he
shouted
,
his
promises
of
a
plump
crisp
capon
already
forgotten
.
"
And
don
’
t
be
getting
lost
again
,
or
I
swear
I
’
ll
beat
you
bloody
.
"
You
won
’
t
,
Arya
thought
.
You
won
’
t
ever
again
.
But
she
ran
.
The
old
gods
of
the
north
must
have
been
guiding
her
steps
.
Halfway
to
the
brewhouse
,
as
she
passing
under
the
stone
bridge
that
arched
between
Widow
’
s
Tower
and
Kingspyre
,
she
heard
harsh
,
growling
laughter
.
Rorge
came
around
a
corner
with
three
other
men
,
the
manticore
badge
of
Ser
Amory
sewn
over
their
hearts
.
When
he
saw
her
,
he
stopped
and
grinned
,
showing
a
mouthful
of
crooked
brown
teeth
under
the
leather
flap
he
wore
sometimes
to
cover
the
hole
in
his
face
.
"
Yoren
’
s
little
cunt
,
"
he
called
her
.
"
Guess
we
know
why
that
black
bastard
wanted
you
on
the
Wall
,
don
’
t
we
?
"
He
laughed
again
,
and
the
others
laughed
with
him
.
"
Where
’
s
your
stick
now
?
"
Rorge
demanded
suddenly
,
the
smile
gone
as
quick
as
it
had
come
.
"
Seems
to
me
I
promised
to
fuck
you
with
it
.
"
He
took
a
step
toward
her
.
Arya
edged
backward
.
"
Not
so
brave
now
that
I
’
m
not
in
chains
,
are
you
?
"
"
I
saved
you
.
"
She
kept
a
good
yard
between
them
,
ready
to
run
quick
as
a
snake
if
he
made
a
grab
for
her
.
"
Owe
you
another
fucking
for
that
,
seems
like
.
Did
Yoren
pump
your
cunny
,
or
did
he
like
that
tight
little
ass
better
?
"
"
I
’
m
looking
for
Jaqen
,
"
she
said
.
"
There
’
s
a
message
.
"
Rorge
halted
.
Something
in
his
eyes
.
.
.
could
it
be
that
he
was
scared
of
Jaqen
H
’
ghar
?
"
The
bathhouse
.
Get
out
of
my
way
.
"
Arya
whirled
and
ran
,
swift
as
a
deer
,
her
feet
flying
over
the
cobbles
all
the
way
to
the
bathhouse
.
She
found
Jaqen
soaking
in
a
tub
,
steam
rising
around
him
as
a
serving
girl
sluiced
hot
water
over
his
head
.
His
long
hair
,
red
on
one
side
and
white
on
the
other
,
fell
down
across
his
shoulders
,
wet
and
heavy
.
She
crept
up
quiet
as
a
shadow
,
but
he
opened
his
eyes
all
the
same
.
"
She
steals
in
on
little
mice
feet
,
but
a
man
hears
,
"
he
said
.
How
could
he
hear
me
?
she
wondered
,
and
it
seemed
as
if
he
heard
that
as
well
.
"
The
scuff
of
leather
on
stone
sings
loud
as
warhorns
to
a
man
with
open
ears
.
Clever
girls
go
barefoot
.
"