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- Джордж Мартин
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"
Fighting
is
better
than
this
waiting
,
"
Brienne
said
.
"
You
don
’
t
feel
so
helpless
when
you
fight
.
You
have
a
sword
and
a
horse
,
sometimes
an
axe
.
When
you
’
re
armored
it
’
s
hard
for
anyone
to
hurt
you
.
"
"
Knights
die
in
battle
,
"
Catelyn
reminded
her
.
Brienne
looked
at
her
with
those
blue
and
beautiful
eyes
.
"
As
ladies
die
in
childbed
.
No
one
sings
songs
about
them
.
"
"
Children
are
a
battle
of
a
different
sort
.
"
Catelyn
started
across
the
yard
.
"
A
battle
without
banners
or
warhorns
,
but
no
less
fierce
.
Carrying
a
child
,
bringing
it
into
the
world
.
.
.
your
mother
will
have
told
you
of
the
pain
.
.
.
"
"
I
never
knew
my
mother
,
"
Brienne
said
.
"
My
father
had
ladies
.
.
.
a
different
lady
every
year
,
but
.
.
.
"
"
Those
were
no
ladies
,
"
Catelyn
said
.
"
As
hard
as
birth
can
be
,
Brienne
,
what
comes
after
is
even
harder
.
At
times
I
feel
as
though
I
am
being
torn
apart
.
Would
that
there
were
five
of
me
,
one
for
each
child
,
so
I
might
keep
them
all
safe
.
"
"
And
who
would
keep
you
safe
,
my
lady
?
"
Her
smile
was
wan
and
tired
.
"
Why
,
the
men
of
my
House
.
Or
so
my
lady
mother
taught
me
.
My
lord
father
,
my
brother
,
my
uncle
,
my
husband
,
they
will
keep
me
safe
.
.
.
but
while
they
are
away
from
me
,
I
suppose
you
must
fill
their
place
,
Brienne
.
"
Brienne
bowed
her
head
.
"
I
shall
try
,
my
lady
.
"
