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- Джордж Мартин
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- Стр. 656/853
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He
pressed
on
long
after
he
knew
he
should
turn
back
,
a
growing
sense
of
anxiety
gnawing
at
his
belly
.
It
was
midday
when
he
wrenched
Smiler
’
s
head
round
in
disgust
and
gave
up
.
Somehow
Osha
and
the
wretched
boys
were
eluding
him
.
It
should
not
have
been
possible
,
not
on
foot
,
burdened
with
a
cripple
and
a
young
child
.
Every
passing
hour
increased
the
likelihood
that
they
would
make
good
their
escape
.
If
they
reach
a
village
.
.
.
The
people
of
the
north
would
never
deny
Ned
Stark
’
s
sons
,
Robb
’
s
brothers
.
They
’
d
have
mounts
to
speed
them
on
their
way
,
food
.
Men
would
fight
for
the
honor
of
protecting
them
.
The
whole
bloody
north
would
rally
around
them
.
The
wolves
went
downstream
,
that
’
s
all
.
He
clung
to
that
thought
.
That
red
bitch
will
sniff
where
they
came
out
of
the
water
and
we
’
ll
be
after
them
again
.
But
when
they
joined
up
with
Farlen
’
s
party
,
one
look
at
the
kennelmaster
’
s
face
smashed
all
of
Theon
’
s
hopes
to
shards
.
"
The
only
thing
those
dogs
are
fit
for
is
a
bear
baiting
,
"
he
said
angrily
.
"
Would
that
I
had
a
bear
.
"
"
The
dogs
are
not
at
fault
.
"
Farlen
knelt
between
a
mastiff
and
his
precious
red
bitch
,
a
hand
on
each
.
"
Running
water
don
’
t
hold
no
scents
,
m
’
lord
.
"
"
The
wolves
had
to
come
out
of
the
stream
somewhere
.
"
"
No
doubt
they
did
.
Upstream
or
down
.
We
keep
on
,
we
’
ll
find
the
place
,
but
which
way
?
"
"
I
never
knew
a
wolf
to
run
up
a
streambed
for
miles
,
"
said
Reek
.
"
A
man
might
.
If
he
knew
he
was
being
hunted
,
he
might
.
But
a
wolf
?
"
Yet
Theon
wondered
.
These
beasts
were
not
as
other
wolves
.
I
should
have
skinned
the
cursed
things
.
