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- Джордж Мартин
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"
The
plan
’
s
a
good
one
,
"
he
concluded
.
"
Lord
Tytos
says
so
,
and
Lord
Jonos
as
well
.
When
did
Blackwood
and
Bracken
agree
about
anything
that
was
not
certain
,
I
ask
you
?
"
"
Be
that
as
it
may
.
"
She
was
suddenly
weary
.
Perhaps
she
was
wrong
to
oppose
him
.
Perhaps
it
was
a
splendid
plan
,
and
her
misgivings
only
a
woman
’
s
fears
.
She
wished
Ned
were
here
,
or
her
uncle
Brynden
,
or
.
.
.
"
Have
you
asked
Father
about
this
?
"
"
Father
is
in
no
state
to
weigh
strategies
.
Two
days
ago
he
was
making
plans
for
your
marriage
to
Brandon
Stark
!
Go
see
him
yourself
if
you
do
not
believe
me
.
This
plan
will
work
,
Cat
,
you
’
ll
see
.
"
"
I
hope
so
,
Edmure
.
I
truly
do
.
"
She
kissed
him
on
the
cheek
,
to
let
him
know
she
meant
it
,
and
went
to
find
her
father
.
Lord
Hoster
Tully
was
much
as
she
had
left
him
—
abed
,
haggard
,
flesh
pale
and
clammy
.
The
room
smelled
of
sickness
,
a
cloying
odor
made
up
in
equal
parts
of
stale
sweat
and
medicine
.
When
she
pulled
back
the
drapes
,
her
father
gave
a
low
moan
,
and
his
eyes
fluttered
open
.
He
stared
at
her
as
if
he
could
not
comprehend
who
she
was
or
what
she
wanted
.
"
Father
.
"
She
kissed
him
.
"
I
am
returned
.
"
He
seemed
to
know
her
then
.
"
You
’
ve
come
,
"
he
whispered
faintly
,
lips
barely
moving
.
"
Yes
,
"
she
said
.
"
Robb
sent
me
south
,
but
I
hurried
back
.
"
"
South
.
.
.
where
.
.
.
is
the
Eyrie
south
,
sweetling
?
I
don
’
t
recall
.
.
.
oh
,
dear
heart
,
I
was
afraid
.
.
.
have
you
forgiven
me
,
child
?
"
Tears
ran
down
his
cheeks
.
