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- Джордж Мартин
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"
I
need
a
whole
tray
.
Ser
Amory
is
partial
to
them
.
"
She
hated
Ser
Amory
.
"
Let
’
s
spit
on
them
.
"
Hot
Pie
looked
around
nervously
.
The
kitchens
were
full
of
shadows
and
echoes
,
but
the
other
cooks
and
scullions
were
all
asleep
in
the
cavernous
lofts
above
the
ovens
.
"
He
’
ll
know
.
"
"
He
will
not
,
"
Arya
said
.
"
You
can
’
t
taste
spit
.
"
"
If
he
does
,
it
’
s
me
they
’
ll
whip
.
"
Hot
Pie
stopped
his
kneading
.
"
You
shouldn
’
t
even
be
here
.
It
’
s
the
black
of
night
.
"
It
was
,
but
Arya
never
minded
.
Even
in
the
black
of
night
,
the
kitchens
were
never
still
;
there
was
always
someone
rolling
dough
for
the
morning
bread
,
stirring
a
kettle
with
a
long
wooden
spoon
,
or
butchering
a
hog
for
Ser
Amory
’
s
breakfast
bacon
.
Tonight
it
was
Hot
Pie
.
"
If
Pinkeye
wakes
and
finds
you
gone
—
"
Hot
Pie
said
.
"
Pinkeye
never
wakes
.
"
His
true
name
was
Mebble
,
but
everyone
called
him
Pinkeye
for
his
runny
eyes
.
"
Not
once
he
’
s
passed
out
.
"
Each
morning
he
broke
his
fast
with
ale
.
Each
evening
he
fell
into
a
drunken
sleep
after
supper
,
wine
-
colored
spit
running
down
his
chin
.
Arya
would
wait
until
she
heard
him
snoring
,
then
creep
barefoot
up
the
servants
’
stair
,
making
no
more
noise
than
the
mouse
she
’
d
been
.
She
carried
neither
candle
nor
taper
.
Syrio
had
told
her
once
that
darkness
could
be
her
friend
,
and
he
was
right
.
If
she
had
the
moon
and
the
stars
to
see
by
,
that
was
enough
.
"
I
bet
we
could
escape
,
and
Pinkeye
wouldn
’
t
even
notice
I
was
gone
,
"
she
told
Hot
Pie
.
"
I
don
’
t
want
to
escape
.
It
’
s
better
here
than
it
was
in
them
woods
.
I
don
’
t
want
to
eat
no
worms
.
Here
,
sprinkle
some
flour
on
the
board
.
"
