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- Джордж Мартин
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Qhorin
’
s
face
was
impassive
.
"
Do
you
know
who
I
am
?
"
"
Qhorin
Halfhand
.
"
The
girl
looked
half
a
child
beside
him
,
but
she
faced
him
boldly
.
"
Tell
me
true
.
If
I
fell
into
the
hands
of
your
people
and
yielded
myself
,
what
would
it
win
me
?
"
"
A
slower
death
than
elsewise
.
"
The
big
ranger
looked
to
Jon
.
"
We
have
no
food
to
feed
her
,
nor
can
we
spare
a
man
to
watch
her
.
"
"
The
way
before
us
is
perilous
enough
,
lad
,
"
said
Squire
Dalbridge
.
"
One
shout
when
we
need
silence
,
and
every
man
of
us
is
doomed
.
"
Ebben
drew
his
dagger
.
"
A
steel
kiss
will
keep
her
quiet
.
"
Jon
’
s
throat
was
raw
.
He
looked
at
them
all
helplessly
.
"
She
yielded
herself
to
me
.
"
"
Then
you
must
do
what
needs
be
done
,
"
Qhorin
Halfhand
said
.
"
You
are
the
blood
of
Winterfell
and
a
man
of
the
Night
’
s
Watch
.
"
He
looked
at
the
others
.
"
Come
,
brothers
.
Leave
him
to
it
.
It
will
go
easier
for
him
if
we
do
not
watch
.
"
And
he
led
them
up
the
steep
twisting
trail
toward
the
pale
pink
glow
of
the
sun
where
it
broke
through
a
mountain
cleft
,
and
before
very
long
only
Jon
and
Ghost
remained
with
the
wildling
girl
.
He
thought
Ygritte
might
try
to
run
,
but
she
only
stood
there
,
waiting
,
looking
at
him
.
"
You
never
killed
a
woman
before
,
did
you
?
"
When
he
shook
his
head
,
she
said
,
"
We
die
the
same
as
men
.
But
you
don
’
t
need
to
do
it
.
Mance
would
take
you
,
I
know
he
would
.
There
’
s
secret
ways
.
Them
crows
would
never
catch
us
.
"
