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- Джордж Мартин
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- Битва королей
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- Стр. 622/853
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One
of
the
guards
had
been
pacing
,
one
standing
near
the
bars
,
a
third
sitting
on
the
floor
with
his
back
to
the
wall
,
but
the
prospect
of
food
drew
all
of
them
to
the
table
.
"
About
bloody
time
they
fed
us
.
"
"
That
onions
I
smell
?
"
"
So
where
’
s
the
bread
?
"
"
Fuck
,
we
need
bowls
,
cups
,
spoons
—
"
"
No
you
don
’
t
.
"
Rorge
heaved
the
scalding
hot
broth
across
the
table
,
full
in
their
faces
.
Jaqen
H
’
ghar
did
the
same
.
Biter
threw
his
kettles
too
,
swinging
them
underarm
so
they
spun
across
the
dungeon
,
raining
soup
.
One
caught
the
captain
in
the
temple
as
he
tried
to
rise
.
He
went
down
like
a
sack
of
sand
and
lay
still
.
The
rest
were
screaming
in
agony
,
praying
,
or
trying
to
crawl
off
.
Arya
pressed
back
against
the
wall
as
Rorge
began
to
cut
throats
.
Biter
preferred
to
grab
the
men
behind
the
head
and
under
the
chin
and
crack
their
necks
with
a
single
twist
of
his
huge
pale
hands
.
Only
one
of
the
guards
managed
to
get
a
blade
out
.
Jaqen
danced
away
from
his
slash
,
drew
his
own
sword
,
drove
the
man
back
into
a
corner
with
a
flurry
of
blows
,
and
killed
him
with
a
thrust
to
the
heart
.
The
Lorathi
brought
the
blade
to
Arya
still
red
with
heart
’
s
blood
and
wiped
it
clean
on
the
front
of
her
shift
.
"
A
girl
should
be
bloody
too
.
This
is
her
work
.
"
The
key
to
the
cell
hung
from
a
hook
on
the
wall
above
the
table
.
Rorge
took
it
down
and
opened
the
door
.
The
first
man
through
was
the
lord
with
the
mailed
fist
on
his
surcoat
.
"
Well
done
,
"
he
said
.
"
I
am
Robett
Glover
.
"
"
My
lord
.
"
Jaqen
gave
him
a
bow
.
