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- Джордж Мартин
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"
Dancer
?
"
Reek
frowned
.
"
Aggar
says
the
horses
are
all
there
.
Only
the
halfwit
is
missing
.
"
They
’
re
afoot
,
then
.
That
was
the
best
news
he
’
d
heard
since
he
woke
.
Bran
would
be
riding
in
his
basket
on
Hodor
’
s
back
,
no
doubt
.
Osha
would
need
to
carry
Rickon
;
his
little
legs
wouldn
’
t
take
him
far
on
their
own
.
Theon
was
confident
that
he
’
d
soon
have
them
back
in
his
hands
.
"
Bran
and
Rickon
have
fled
,
"
he
told
the
castle
folk
,
watching
their
eyes
.
"
Who
knows
where
they
’
ve
gone
?
"
No
one
answered
.
"
They
could
not
have
escaped
without
help
,
"
Theon
went
on
.
"
Without
food
,
clothing
,
weapons
.
"
He
had
locked
away
every
sword
and
axe
in
Winterfell
,
but
no
doubt
some
had
been
hidden
from
him
.
"
I
’
ll
have
the
names
of
all
those
who
aided
them
.
All
those
who
turned
a
blind
eye
.
"
The
only
sound
was
the
wind
.
"
Come
first
light
,
I
mean
to
bring
them
back
.
"
He
hooked
his
thumbs
through
his
swordbelt
.
"
I
need
huntsmen
.
Who
wants
a
nice
warm
wolfskin
to
see
them
through
the
winter
?
Gage
?
"
The
cook
had
always
greeted
him
cheerfully
when
he
returned
from
the
hunt
,
to
ask
whether
he
’
d
brought
anything
choice
for
the
table
,
but
he
had
nothing
to
say
now
.
Theon
walked
back
the
way
he
had
come
,
searching
their
faces
for
the
least
sign
of
guilty
knowledge
.
"
The
wild
is
no
place
for
a
cripple
.
And
Rickon
,
young
as
he
is
,
how
long
will
he
last
out
there
?
Nan
,
think
how
frightened
he
must
be
.
"
The
old
woman
had
nattered
at
him
for
ten
years
,
telling
her
endless
stories
,
but
now
she
gaped
at
him
as
if
he
were
some
stranger
.
"
I
might
have
killed
every
man
of
you
and
given
your
women
to
my
soldiers
for
their
pleasure
,
but
instead
I
protected
you
.
Is
this
the
thanks
you
offer
?
"
Joseth
who
’
d
groomed
his
horses
,
Farlen
who
’
d
taught
him
all
he
knew
of
hounds
,
Barth
the
brewer
’
s
wife
who
’
d
been
his
first
—
not
one
of
them
would
meet
his
eyes
.
They
hate
me
,
he
realized
.
Reek
stepped
close
.
"
Strip
off
their
skins
,
"
he
urged
,
his
thick
lips
glistening
.
"
Lord
Bolton
,
he
used
to
say
a
naked
man
has
few
secrets
,
but
a
flayed
man
’
s
got
none
.
"
The
flayed
man
was
the
sigil
of
House
Bolton
,
Theon
knew
;
ages
past
,
certain
of
their
lords
had
gone
so
far
as
to
cloak
themselves
in
the
skins
of
dead
enemies
.
A
number
of
Starks
had
ended
thus
.
Supposedly
all
that
had
stopped
a
thousand
years
ago
,
when
the
Boltons
had
bent
their
knees
to
Winterfell
.
Or
so
they
say
,
but
old
ways
die
hard
,
as
well
I
know
.
"
There
will
be
no
flaying
in
the
north
so
long
as
I
rule
in
Winterfell
,
"
Theon
said
loudly
.
I
am
your
only
protection
against
the
likes
of
him
,
he
wanted
to
scream
.
He
could
not
be
that
blatant
,
but
perhaps
some
were
clever
enough
to
take
the
lesson
.
The
sky
was
greying
over
the
castle
walls
.
Dawn
could
not
be
far
off
.
"
Joseth
,
saddle
Smiler
and
a
horse
for
yourself
.
Murch
,
Gariss
,
Poxy
Tym
,
you
’
ll
come
as
well
.
"
Murch
and
Gariss
were
the
best
huntsmen
in
the
castle
,
and
Tym
was
a
fine
bowman
.
"
Aggar
,
Rednose
,
Gelmarr
,
Reek
,
Wex
.
"
He
needed
his
own
to
watch
his
back
.
"
Farlen
,
I
’
ll
want
hounds
,
and
you
to
handle
them
.
"
The
grizzled
kennelmaster
crossed
his
arms
.
"
And
why
would
I
care
to
hunt
down
my
own
trueborn
lords
,
and
babes
at
that
?
"
Theon
moved
close
.
"
I
am
your
trueborn
lord
now
,
and
the
man
who
keeps
Palla
safe
.
"
He
saw
the
defiance
die
in
Farlen
’
s
eyes
.
"
Aye
,
m
’
lord
.
"
