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- Джордж Мартин
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Jon
was
confused
.
"
It
was
only
a
dream
.
"
"
A
wolf
dream
,
"
the
Halfhand
said
.
"
Craster
told
the
Lord
Commander
that
the
wildlings
were
gathering
at
the
source
of
the
Milkwater
.
That
may
be
why
you
dreamed
it
.
Or
it
may
be
that
you
saw
what
waits
for
us
,
a
few
hours
farther
on
.
Tell
me
.
"
It
made
him
feel
half
a
fool
to
talk
of
such
things
to
Qhorin
and
the
other
rangers
,
but
he
did
as
he
was
commanded
.
None
of
the
black
brothers
laughed
at
him
,
however
.
By
the
time
he
was
done
,
even
Squire
Dalbridge
was
no
longer
smiling
.
"
Skinchanger
?
"
said
Ebben
grimly
,
looking
at
the
Halfhand
.
Does
he
mean
the
eagle
?
Jon
wondered
.
Or
me
?
Skinchangers
and
wargs
belonged
in
Old
Nan
’
s
stories
,
not
in
the
world
he
had
lived
in
all
his
life
.
Yet
here
,
in
this
strange
bleak
wilderness
of
rock
and
ice
,
it
was
not
hard
to
believe
.
"
The
cold
winds
are
rising
.
Mormont
feared
as
much
.
Benjen
Stark
felt
it
as
well
.
Dead
men
walk
and
the
trees
have
eyes
again
.
Why
should
we
balk
at
wargs
and
giants
?
"
"
Does
this
mean
my
dreams
are
true
as
well
?
"
asked
Squire
Dalbridge
.
"
Lord
Snow
can
keep
his
mammoths
,
I
want
my
women
.
"
"
Man
and
boy
I
’
ve
served
the
Watch
,
and
ranged
as
far
as
any
,
"
said
Ebben
.
"
I
’
ve
seen
the
bones
of
giants
,
and
heard
many
a
queer
tale
,
but
no
more
.
I
want
to
see
them
with
my
own
eyes
.
"
"
Be
careful
they
don
’
t
see
you
,
Ebben
,
"
Stonesnake
said
.
Ghost
did
not
reappear
as
they
set
out
again
.
The
shadows
covered
the
floor
of
the
pass
by
then
,
and
the
sun
was
sinking
fast
toward
the
jagged
twin
peaks
of
the
huge
mountain
the
rangers
named
Forktop
.
If
the
dream
was
true
.
.
.
Even
the
thought
scared
him
.
Could
the
eagle
have
hurt
Ghost
,
or
knocked
him
off
the
precipice
?
And
what
about
the
weirwood
with
his
brother
’
s
face
,
that
smelled
of
death
and
darkness
?
The
last
ray
of
sun
vanished
behind
the
peaks
of
Forktop
.
Twilight
filled
the
Skirling
Pass
.
It
seemed
to
grow
colder
almost
at
once
.
They
were
no
longer
climbing
.
In
fact
,
the
ground
had
begun
to
descend
,
though
as
yet
not
sharply
.
It
was
littered
with
cracks
and
broken
boulders
and
tumbled
heaps
of
rock
.
It
will
be
dark
soon
,
and
still
no
sight
of
Ghost
.
It
was
tearing
Jon
apart
,
yet
he
dare
not
shout
for
the
direwolf
as
he
would
have
liked
.
Other
things
might
be
listening
as
well
.
"
Qhorin
,
"
Squire
Dalbridge
called
softly
.
"
There
.
Look
.
"
