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- Джордж Мартин
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Arya
sat
up
straight
,
straining
to
hear
.
Did
he
mean
Robb
?
"
I
heard
the
boy
rides
to
battle
on
a
wolf
,
"
said
a
yellow
-
haired
man
with
a
tankard
in
his
hand
.
"
Fool
’
s
talk
.
"
Yoren
spat
.
"
The
man
I
heard
it
from
,
he
saw
it
himself
.
A
wolf
big
as
a
horse
,
he
swore
.
"
"
Swearing
don
’
t
make
it
true
,
Hod
,
"
the
innkeeper
said
.
"
You
keep
swearing
you
’
ll
pay
what
you
owe
me
,
and
I
’
ve
yet
to
see
a
copper
.
"
The
common
room
erupted
in
laughter
,
and
the
man
with
the
yellow
hair
turned
red
.
"
It
’
s
been
a
bad
year
for
wolves
,
"
volunteered
a
sallow
man
in
a
travel
-
stained
green
cloak
.
"
Around
the
Gods
Eye
,
the
packs
have
grown
bolder
’
n
anyone
can
remember
.
Sheep
,
cows
,
dogs
,
makes
no
matter
,
they
kill
as
they
like
,
and
they
got
no
fear
of
men
.
It
’
s
worth
your
life
to
go
into
those
woods
by
night
.
"
"
Ah
,
that
’
s
more
tales
,
and
no
more
true
than
the
other
.
"
"
I
heard
the
same
thing
from
my
cousin
,
and
she
’
s
not
the
sort
to
lie
,
"
an
old
woman
said
.
"
She
says
there
’
s
this
great
pack
,
hundreds
of
them
,
man
-
killers
.
The
one
that
leads
them
is
a
she
-
wolf
,
a
bitch
from
the
seventh
hell
.
"
A
she
-
wolf
.
Arya
sloshed
her
beer
,
wondering
.
Was
the
Gods
Eye
near
the
Trident
?
She
wished
she
had
a
map
.
It
had
been
near
the
Trident
that
she
’
d
left
Nymeria
.
She
hadn
’
t
wanted
to
,
but
Jory
said
they
had
no
choice
,
that
if
the
wolf
came
back
with
them
she
’
d
be
killed
for
biting
Joffrey
,
even
though
he
’
d
deserved
it
.
They
’
d
had
to
shout
and
scream
and
throw
stones
,
and
it
wasn
’
t
until
a
few
of
Arya
’
s
stones
struck
home
that
the
direwolf
had
finally
stopped
following
them
.
She
probably
wouldn
’
t
even
know
me
now
,
Arya
thought
.
Or
if
she
did
,
she
’
d
hate
me
.
