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- Джордж Мартин
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- Стр. 559/853
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The
wind
was
shifting
,
Davos
could
feel
it
,
see
it
in
the
way
the
black
canvas
rippled
.
He
reached
for
the
halyards
.
"
Help
me
bring
in
the
sail
.
I
’
ll
row
us
the
rest
of
the
way
.
"
Together
they
tied
off
the
sail
as
the
boat
rocked
beneath
them
.
As
Davos
unshipped
the
oars
and
slid
them
into
the
choppy
black
water
,
he
said
,
"
Who
rowed
you
to
Renly
?
"
"
There
was
no
need
,
"
she
said
.
"
He
was
unprotected
.
But
here
.
.
.
this
Storm
’
s
End
is
an
old
place
.
There
are
spells
woven
into
the
stones
.
Dark
walls
that
no
shadow
can
pass
—
ancient
,
forgotten
,
yet
still
in
place
.
"
"
Shadow
?
"
Davos
felt
his
flesh
prickling
.
"
A
shadow
is
a
thing
of
darkness
.
"
"
You
are
more
ignorant
than
a
child
,
ser
knight
.
There
are
no
shadows
in
the
dark
.
Shadows
are
the
servants
of
light
,
the
children
of
fire
.
The
brightest
flame
casts
the
darkest
shadows
.
"
Frowning
,
Davos
hushed
her
then
.
They
were
coming
close
to
shore
once
more
,
and
voices
carried
across
the
water
.
He
rowed
,
the
faint
sound
of
his
oars
lost
in
the
rhythm
of
the
waves
.
The
seaward
side
of
Storm
’
s
End
perched
upon
a
pale
white
cliff
,
the
chalky
stone
sloping
up
steeply
to
half
again
the
height
of
the
massive
curtain
wall
.
A
mouth
yawned
in
the
cliff
,
and
it
was
that
Davos
steered
for
,
as
he
had
sixteen
years
before
.
The
tunnel
opened
on
a
cavern
under
the
castle
,
where
the
storm
lords
of
old
had
built
their
landing
.
The
passage
was
navigable
only
during
high
tide
,
and
was
never
less
than
treacherous
,
but
his
smuggler
’
s
skills
had
not
deserted
him
.
Davos
threaded
their
way
deftly
between
the
jagged
rocks
until
the
cave
mouth
loomed
up
before
them
.
He
let
the
waves
carry
them
inside
.
They
crashed
around
him
,
slamming
the
boat
this
way
and
that
and
soaking
them
to
the
skin
.
A
half
-
seen
finger
of
rock
came
rushing
up
out
of
the
gloom
,
snarling
foam
,
and
Davos
barely
kept
them
off
it
with
an
oar
.
Then
they
were
past
,
engulfed
in
darkness
,
and
the
waters
smoothed
.
The
little
boat
slowed
and
swirled
.
The
sound
of
their
breathing
echoed
until
it
seemed
to
surround
them
.
Davos
had
not
expected
the
blackness
.
The
last
time
,
torches
had
burned
all
along
the
tunnel
,
and
the
eyes
of
starving
men
had
peered
down
through
the
murder
holes
in
the
ceiling
.
The
portcullis
was
somewhere
ahead
,
he
knew
.
