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- Джордж Мартин
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Maybe
Vargo
Hoat
was
afraid
to
make
Robb
angry
.
Though
he
didn
’
t
seem
the
sort
to
be
afraid
of
anyone
.
Hot
Pie
was
stirring
the
kettles
with
a
long
wooden
spoon
when
Arya
returned
to
the
kitchens
.
She
grabbed
up
a
second
spoon
and
started
to
help
.
For
a
moment
she
thought
maybe
she
should
tell
him
,
but
then
she
remembered
the
village
and
decided
not
to
.
He
’
d
only
yield
again
.
Then
she
heard
the
ugly
sound
of
Rorge
’
s
voice
.
"
Cook
,
"
he
shouted
.
"
We
’
ll
take
your
bloody
broth
.
"
Arya
let
go
of
the
spoon
in
dismay
.
I
never
told
him
to
bring
them
.
Rorge
wore
his
iron
helmet
,
with
the
nasal
that
half
hid
his
missing
nose
.
Jaqen
and
Biter
followed
him
into
the
kitchen
.
"
The
bloody
broth
isn
’
t
bloody
ready
yet
,
"
the
cook
said
.
"
It
needs
to
simmer
.
We
only
now
put
in
the
onions
and
—
"
"
Shut
your
hole
,
or
I
’
ll
shove
a
spit
up
your
ass
and
we
’
ll
baste
you
for
a
turn
or
two
.
I
said
broth
and
I
said
now
.
"
Hissing
,
Biter
grabbed
a
handful
of
half
-
charred
rabbit
right
off
the
spit
,
and
tore
into
it
with
his
pointed
teeth
while
honey
dripped
between
his
fingers
.
The
cook
was
beaten
.
"
Take
your
bloody
broth
,
then
,
but
if
the
goat
asks
why
it
tastes
so
thin
,
you
tell
him
.
"
Biter
licked
the
grease
and
honey
off
his
fingers
as
Jaqen
H
’
ghar
donned
a
pair
of
heavy
padded
mitts
.
He
gave
a
second
pair
to
Arya
.
"
A
weasel
will
help
.
"
The
broth
was
boiling
-
hot
,
and
the
kettles
were
heavy
.
Arya
and
Jaqen
wrestled
one
between
them
,
Rorge
carried
one
by
himself
,
and
Biter
grabbed
two
more
,
hissing
in
pain
when
the
handles
burned
his
hands
.
Even
so
,
he
did
not
drop
them
.
They
lugged
the
kettles
out
of
the
kitchens
and
across
the
ward
.
Two
guards
had
been
posted
at
the
door
of
the
Widow
’
s
Tower
.
"
What
’
s
this
?
"
one
said
to
Rorge
.
