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- Джордж Мартин
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Stepping
back
,
Theon
glanced
about
to
see
who
else
he
might
add
.
"
Maester
Luwin
,
"
he
announced
.
"
I
know
nothing
of
hunting
.
"
No
,
but
I
don
’
t
trust
you
in
the
castle
in
my
absence
.
"
Then
it
’
s
past
time
you
learned
.
"
"
Let
me
come
too
.
I
want
that
wolfskin
cloak
.
"
A
boy
stepped
forward
,
no
older
than
Bran
.
It
took
Theon
a
moment
to
remember
him
.
"
I
’
ve
hunted
lots
of
times
before
,
"
Walder
Frey
said
.
"
Red
deer
and
elk
,
and
even
boar
.
"
His
cousin
laughed
at
him
.
"
He
rode
on
a
boar
hunt
with
his
father
,
but
they
never
let
him
near
the
boar
.
"
Theon
look
at
the
boy
doubtfully
.
"
Come
if
you
like
,
but
if
you
can
’
t
keep
up
,
don
’
t
think
that
I
’
ll
nurse
you
along
.
"
He
turned
back
to
Black
Lorren
.
"
Winterfell
is
yours
in
my
absence
.
If
we
do
not
return
,
do
with
it
as
you
will
.
"
That
bloody
well
ought
to
have
them
praying
for
my
success
.
They
assembled
by
the
Hunter
’
s
Gate
as
the
first
pale
rays
of
the
sun
brushed
the
top
of
the
Bell
Tower
,
their
breath
frosting
in
the
cold
morning
air
.
Gelmarr
had
equipped
himself
with
a
longaxe
whose
reach
would
allow
him
to
strike
before
the
wolves
were
on
him
.
The
blade
was
heavy
enough
to
kill
with
a
single
blow
.
Aggar
wore
steel
greaves
.
Reek
arrived
carrying
a
boar
spear
and
an
overstuffed
washerwoman
’
s
sack
bulging
with
god
knows
what
.
Theon
had
his
bow
;
he
needed
nothing
else
.
Once
he
had
saved
Bran
’
s
life
with
an
arrow
.
He
hoped
he
would
not
need
to
take
it
with
another
,
but
if
it
came
to
that
,
he
would
.
Eleven
men
,
two
boys
,
and
a
dozen
dogs
crossed
the
moat
.
Beyond
the
outer
wall
,
the
tracks
were
plain
to
read
in
the
soft
ground
;
the
pawprints
of
the
wolves
,
Hodor
’
s
heavy
tread
,
the
shallower
marks
left
by
the
feet
of
the
two
Reeds
.
Once
under
the
trees
,
the
stony
ground
and
fallen
leaves
made
the
trail
harder
to
see
,
but
by
then
Farlen
’
s
red
bitch
had
the
scent
.
The
rest
of
the
dogs
were
close
behind
,
the
hounds
sniffing
and
barking
,
a
pair
of
monstrous
mastiffs
bringing
up
the
rear
.
Their
size
and
ferocity
might
make
the
difference
against
a
cornered
direwolf
.
He
’
d
have
guessed
that
Osha
might
run
south
to
Ser
Rodrik
,
but
the
trail
led
north
by
northwest
,
into
the
very
heart
of
the
wolfswood
.
Theon
did
not
like
that
one
bit
.
It
would
be
a
bitter
irony
if
the
Starks
made
for
Deepwood
Motte
and
delivered
themselves
right
into
Asha
’
s
hands
.
I
’
d
sooner
have
them
dead
,
he
thought
bitterly
.
It
is
better
to
be
seen
as
cruel
than
foolish
.
