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- Джордж Мартин
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- Стр. 531/853
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The
king
paid
her
no
heed
.
"
Bring
me
the
man
who
flung
that
filth
!
"
Joffrey
commanded
.
"
He
’
ll
lick
it
off
me
or
I
’
ll
have
his
head
.
Dog
,
you
bring
him
here
!
"
Obedient
,
Sandor
Clegane
swung
down
from
his
saddle
,
but
there
was
no
way
through
that
wall
of
flesh
,
let
alone
to
the
roof
.
Those
closest
to
him
began
to
squirm
and
shove
to
get
away
,
while
others
pushed
forward
to
see
.
Tyrion
smelled
disaster
.
"
Clegane
,
leave
off
,
the
man
is
long
fled
.
"
"
I
want
him
!
"
Joffrey
pointed
at
the
roof
.
"
He
was
up
there
!
Dog
,
cut
through
them
and
bring
—
"
A
tumult
of
sound
drowned
his
last
words
,
a
rolling
thunder
of
rage
and
fear
and
hatred
that
engulfed
them
from
all
sides
.
"
Bastard
!
"
someone
screamed
at
Joffrey
,
"
bastard
monster
.
"
Other
voices
flung
calls
of
"
Whore
"
and
"
Brotherfucker
"
at
the
queen
,
while
Tyrion
was
pelted
with
shouts
of
"
Freak
"
and
"
Halfman
.
"
Mixed
in
with
the
abuse
,
he
heard
a
few
cries
of
"
Justice
"
and
"
Robb
,
King
Robb
,
the
Young
Wolf
,
"
of
"
Stannis
!
"
and
even
"
Renly
!
"
From
both
sides
of
the
street
,
the
crowd
surged
against
the
spear
shafts
while
the
gold
cloaks
struggled
to
hold
the
line
.
Stones
and
dung
and
fouler
things
whistled
overhead
.
"
Feed
us
!
"
a
woman
shrieked
.
"
Bread
!
"
boomed
a
man
behind
her
.
"
We
want
bread
,
bastard
!
"
In
a
heartbeat
,
a
thousand
voices
took
up
the
chant
.
King
Joffrey
and
King
Robb
and
King
Stannis
were
forgotten
,
and
King
Bread
ruled
alone
.
"
Bread
,
"
they
clamored
.
"
Bread
,
bread
!
"
Tyrion
spurred
to
his
sister
’
s
side
,
yelling
,
"
Back
to
the
castle
.
Now
.
"
Cersei
gave
a
curt
nod
,
and
Ser
Lancel
unsheathed
his
sword
.
Ahead
of
the
column
,
Jacelyn
Bywater
was
roaring
commands
.
His
riders
lowered
their
lances
and
drove
forward
in
a
wedge
.
The
king
was
wheeling
his
palfrey
around
in
anxious
circles
while
hands
reached
past
the
line
of
gold
cloaks
,
grasping
for
him
.
One
managed
to
get
hold
of
his
leg
,
but
only
for
an
instant
.
Ser
Mandon
’
s
sword
slashed
down
,
parting
hand
from
wrist
.
"
Ride
!
"
Tyrion
shouted
at
his
nephew
,
giving
the
horse
a
sharp
smack
on
the
rump
.
The
animal
reared
,
trumpeting
,
and
plunged
ahead
,
the
press
shattering
before
him
.
Tyrion
drove
into
the
gap
hard
on
the
king
’
s
hooves
.
Bronn
kept
pace
,
sword
in
hand
.
A
jagged
rock
flew
past
his
head
as
he
rode
,
and
a
rotten
cabbage
exploded
against
Ser
Mandon
’
s
shield
.
To
their
left
,
three
gold
cloaks
went
down
under
the
surge
,
and
then
the
crowd
was
rushing
forward
,
trampling
the
fallen
men
.
The
Hound
had
vanished
behind
,
though
his
riderless
horse
galloped
beside
them
.
Tyrion
saw
Aron
Santagar
pulled
from
the
saddle
,
the
gold
-
and
-
black
Baratheon
stag
torn
from
his
grasp
.
Ser
Balon
Swann
dropped
the
Lannister
lion
to
draw
his
longsword
.
He
slashed
right
and
left
as
the
fallen
banner
was
ripped
apart
,
the
thousand
ragged
pieces
swirling
away
like
crimson
leaves
in
a
stormwind
.
In
an
instant
they
were
gone
.
Someone
staggered
in
front
of
Joffrey
’
s
horse
and
shrieked
as
the
king
rode
him
down
.
Whether
it
had
been
man
,
woman
,
or
child
Tyrion
could
not
have
said
.
Joffrey
was
galloping
at
his
side
,
whey
-
faced
,
with
Ser
Mandon
Moore
a
white
shadow
on
his
left
.
And
suddenly
the
madness
was
behind
and
they
were
clattering
across
the
cobbled
square
that
fronted
on
the
castle
barbican
.
A
line
of
spearmen
held
the
gates
.
Ser
Jacelyn
was
wheeling
his
lances
around
for
another
charge
.
The
spears
parted
to
let
the
king
’
s
party
pass
under
the
portcullis
.
Pale
red
walls
loomed
up
about
them
,
reassuringly
high
and
aswarm
with
crossbowmen
.
