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- Джордж Мартин
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"
She
told
you
true
.
"
"
She
even
claimed
we
were
kin
.
She
told
me
a
story
.
.
.
"
"
.
.
.
of
Bael
the
Bard
and
the
rose
of
Winterfell
.
So
Stonesnake
told
me
.
It
happens
I
know
the
song
.
Mance
would
sing
it
of
old
,
when
he
came
back
from
a
ranging
.
He
had
a
passion
for
wildling
music
.
Aye
,
and
for
their
women
as
well
.
"
"
You
knew
him
?
"
"
We
all
knew
him
.
"
His
voice
was
sad
.
They
were
friends
as
well
as
brothers
,
Jon
realized
,
and
now
they
are
sworn
foes
.
"
Why
did
he
desert
?
"
"
For
a
wench
,
some
say
.
For
a
crown
,
others
would
have
it
.
"
Qhorin
tested
the
edge
of
his
sword
with
the
ball
of
his
thumb
.
"
He
liked
women
,
Mance
did
,
and
he
was
not
a
man
whose
knees
bent
easily
,
that
’
s
true
.
But
it
was
more
than
that
.
He
loved
the
wild
better
than
the
Wall
.
It
was
in
his
blood
.
He
was
wildling
born
,
taken
as
a
child
when
some
raiders
were
put
to
the
sword
.
When
he
left
the
Shadow
Tower
he
was
only
going
home
again
.
"
"
Was
he
a
good
ranger
?
"
"
He
was
the
best
of
us
,
"
said
the
Halfhand
,
"
and
the
worst
as
well
.
Only
fools
like
Thoren
Smallwood
despise
the
wildlings
.
They
are
as
brave
as
we
are
,
Jon
.
As
strong
,
as
quick
,
as
clever
.
But
they
have
no
discipline
.
They
name
themselves
the
free
folk
,
and
each
one
thinks
himself
as
good
as
a
king
and
wiser
than
a
maester
.
Mance
was
the
same
.
He
never
learned
how
to
obey
.
"
