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- Джордж Мартин
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"
I
’
m
as
much
a
crow
as
they
are
,
"
Jon
said
.
She
nodded
,
resigned
.
"
Will
you
burn
me
,
after
?
"
"
I
can
’
t
.
The
smoke
might
be
seen
.
"
"
That
’
s
so
.
"
She
shrugged
.
"
Well
,
there
’
s
worse
places
to
end
up
than
the
belly
of
a
shadowcat
.
"
He
pulled
Longclaw
over
a
shoulder
"
Aren
’
t
you
afraid
?
"
"
Last
night
I
was
,
"
she
admitted
.
"
But
now
the
sun
’
s
up
.
"
She
pushed
her
hair
aside
to
bare
her
neck
,
and
knelt
before
him
.
"
Strike
hard
and
true
,
crow
,
or
I
’
ll
come
back
and
haunt
you
.
"
Longclaw
was
not
so
long
or
heavy
a
sword
as
his
father
’
s
Ice
,
but
it
was
Valyrian
steel
all
the
same
.
He
touched
the
edge
of
the
blade
to
mark
where
the
blow
must
fall
,
and
Ygritte
shivered
.
"
That
’
s
cold
,
"
she
said
.
"
Go
on
,
be
quick
about
it
.
"
He
raised
Longclaw
over
his
head
,
both
hands
tight
around
the
grip
.
One
cut
,
with
all
my
weight
behind
it
.
He
could
give
her
a
quick
clean
death
,
at
least
.
He
was
his
father
’
s
son
.
Wasn
’
t
he
?
Wasn
’
t
he
?
"
Do
it
,
"
she
urged
him
after
a
moment
.
"
Bastard
.
Do
it
.
I
can
’
t
stay
brave
forever
.
"
When
the
blow
did
not
fall
she
turned
her
head
to
look
at
him
.
