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- Джордж Мартин
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- Битва королей
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- Стр. 686/853
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"
And
not
like
to
be
a
threat
,
"
Qhorin
agreed
.
"
If
I
had
needed
her
dead
,
I
would
have
left
her
with
Ebben
,
or
done
the
thing
myself
.
"
"
Then
why
did
you
command
it
of
me
?
"
"
I
did
not
command
it
.
I
told
you
to
do
what
needed
to
be
done
,
and
left
you
to
decide
what
that
would
be
.
"
Qhorin
stood
and
slid
his
longsword
back
into
its
scabbard
.
"
When
I
want
a
mountain
scaled
,
I
call
on
Stonesnake
.
Should
I
need
to
put
an
arrow
through
the
eye
of
some
foe
across
a
windy
battlefield
,
I
summon
Squire
Dalbridge
.
Ebben
can
make
any
man
give
up
his
secrets
.
To
lead
men
you
must
know
them
,
Jon
Snow
.
I
know
more
of
you
now
than
I
did
this
morning
.
"
"
And
if
I
had
slain
her
?
"
asked
Jon
.
"
She
would
be
dead
,
and
I
would
know
you
better
than
I
had
before
.
But
enough
talk
.
You
ought
be
sleeping
.
We
have
leagues
to
go
,
and
dangers
to
face
.
You
will
need
your
strength
.
"
Jon
did
not
think
sleep
would
come
easily
,
but
he
knew
the
Halfhand
was
right
.
He
found
a
place
out
of
the
wind
,
beneath
an
overhang
of
rock
,
and
took
off
his
cloak
to
use
it
for
a
blanket
.
"
Ghost
,
"
he
called
.
"
Here
.
To
me
.
"
He
always
slept
better
with
the
great
white
wolf
beside
him
;
there
was
comfort
in
the
smell
of
him
,
and
welcome
warmth
in
that
shaggy
pale
fur
.
This
time
,
though
,
Ghost
did
no
more
than
look
at
him
.
Then
he
turned
away
and
padded
around
the
garrons
,
and
quick
as
that
he
was
gone
.
He
wants
to
hunt
,
Jon
thought
.
Perhaps
there
were
goats
in
these
mountains
.
The
shadowcats
must
live
on
something
.
"
Just
don
’
t
try
and
bring
down
a
‘
cat
,
"
he
muttered
.
Even
for
a
direwolf
,
that
would
be
dangerous
.
He
tugged
his
cloak
over
him
and
stretched
out
beneath
the
rock
.
When
he
closed
his
eyes
,
he
dreamed
of
direwolves
.
There
were
five
of
them
when
there
should
have
been
six
,
and
they
were
scattered
,
each
apart
from
the
others
.
He
felt
a
deep
ache
of
emptiness
,
a
sense
of
incompleteness
.
The
forest
was
vast
and
cold
,
and
they
were
so
small
,
so
lost
.
His
brothers
were
out
there
somewhere
,
and
his
sister
,
but
he
had
lost
their
scent
.
He
sat
on
his
haunches
and
lifted
his
head
to
the
darkening
sky
,
and
his
cry
echoed
through
the
forest
,
a
long
lonely
mournful
sound
.
As
it
died
away
,
he
pricked
up
his
ears
,
listening
for
an
answer
,
but
the
only
sound
was
the
sigh
of
blowing
snow
.
Jon
?
