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- Джордж Мартин
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"
Little
enough
,
"
the
captain
admitted
.
"
With
the
war
in
the
riverlands
and
Lord
Renly
raising
rebels
in
Highgarden
,
the
roads
are
closed
to
south
and
west
.
"
"
And
what
has
my
good
sister
done
about
this
?
"
"
She
is
taking
steps
to
restore
the
king
’
s
peace
,
"
Vylarr
assured
him
.
"
Lord
Slynt
has
tripled
the
size
of
the
City
Watch
,
and
the
queen
has
put
a
thousand
craftsmen
to
work
on
our
defenses
.
The
stonemasons
are
strengthening
the
walls
,
carpenters
are
building
scorpions
and
catapults
by
the
hundred
,
fletchers
are
making
arrows
,
the
smiths
are
forging
blades
,
and
the
Alchemists
’
Guild
has
pledged
ten
thousand
jars
of
wildfire
.
"
Tyrion
shifted
uncomfortably
in
his
saddle
.
He
was
pleased
that
Cersei
had
not
been
idle
,
but
wildfire
was
treacherous
stuff
,
and
ten
thousand
jars
were
enough
to
turn
all
of
King
’
s
Landing
into
cinders
.
"
Where
has
my
sister
found
the
coin
to
pay
for
all
of
this
?
"
It
was
no
secret
that
King
Robert
had
left
the
crown
vastly
in
debt
,
and
alchemists
were
seldom
mistaken
for
altruists
.
"
Lord
Littlefinger
always
finds
a
way
,
my
lord
.
He
has
imposed
a
tax
on
those
wishing
to
enter
the
city
.
"
"
Yes
,
that
would
work
,
"
Tyrion
said
,
thinking
,
Clever
.
Clever
and
cruel
.
Tens
of
thousands
had
fled
the
fighting
for
the
supposed
safety
of
King
’
s
Landing
.
He
had
seen
them
on
the
kingsroad
,
troupes
of
mothers
and
children
and
anxious
fathers
who
had
gazed
on
his
horses
and
wagons
with
covetous
eyes
.
Once
they
reached
the
city
they
would
doubtless
pay
over
all
they
had
to
put
those
high
comforting
walls
between
them
and
the
war
.
.
.
though
they
might
think
twice
if
they
knew
about
the
wildfire
.
The
inn
beneath
the
sign
of
the
broken
anvil
stood
within
sight
of
those
walls
,
near
the
Gate
of
the
Gods
where
they
had
entered
that
morning
.
As
they
rode
into
its
courtyard
,
a
boy
ran
out
to
help
Tyrion
down
from
his
horse
.
"
Take
your
men
back
to
the
castle
,
"
he
told
Vylarr
.
"
I
’
ll
be
spending
the
night
here
.
"
The
captain
looked
dubious
.
"
Will
you
be
safe
,
my
lord
?
"
"
Well
,
as
to
that
,
Captain
,
when
I
left
the
inn
this
morning
it
was
full
of
Black
Ears
.
One
is
never
quite
safe
when
Chella
daughter
of
Cheyk
is
about
.
"
Tyrion
waddled
toward
the
door
,
leaving
Vylarr
to
puzzle
at
his
meaning
.
A
gust
of
merriment
greeted
him
as
he
shoved
into
the
inn
’
s
common
room
.
He
recognized
Chella
’
s
throaty
chuckle
and
the
lighter
music
of
Shae
’
s
laughter
.
The
girl
was
seated
by
the
hearth
,
sipping
wine
at
a
round
wooden
table
with
three
of
the
Black
Ears
he
’
d
left
to
guard
her
and
a
plump
man
whose
back
was
to
him
.
The
innkeeper
,
he
assumed
.
.
.
until
Shae
called
Tyrion
by
name
and
the
intruder
rose
.
"
My
good
lord
,
I
am
so
pleased
to
see
you
,
"
he
gushed
,
a
soft
eunuch
’
s
smile
on
his
powdered
face
.
