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- Джордж Мартин
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- Битва королей
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- Стр. 729/853
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"
Well
,
m
’
lord
,
I
haven
’
t
had
no
woman
since
I
was
with
Lord
Ramsay
,
"
Reek
said
.
"
I
’
ve
had
my
eye
on
that
Palla
,
and
I
hear
she
’
s
already
been
had
,
so
.
.
.
"
He
had
gone
too
far
with
Reek
to
turn
back
now
.
"
Two
hundred
men
and
she
’
s
yours
.
But
a
man
less
and
you
can
go
back
to
fucking
pigs
.
"
Reek
was
gone
before
the
sun
went
down
,
carrying
a
bag
of
Stark
silver
and
the
last
of
Theon
’
s
hopes
.
Like
as
not
,
I
’
ll
never
see
the
wretch
again
,
he
thought
bitterly
,
but
even
so
the
chance
had
to
be
taken
.
That
night
he
dreamed
of
the
feast
Ned
Stark
had
thrown
when
King
Robert
came
to
Winterfell
.
The
hall
rang
with
music
and
laughter
,
though
the
cold
winds
were
rising
outside
.
At
first
it
was
all
wine
and
roast
meat
,
and
Theon
was
making
japes
and
eyeing
the
serving
girls
and
having
himself
a
fine
time
.
.
.
until
he
noticed
that
the
room
was
growing
darker
.
The
music
did
not
seem
so
jolly
then
;
he
heard
discords
and
strange
silences
,
and
notes
that
hung
in
the
air
bleeding
.
Suddenly
the
wine
turned
bitter
in
his
mouth
,
and
when
he
looked
up
from
his
cup
he
saw
that
he
was
dining
with
the
dead
.
King
Robert
sat
with
his
guts
spilling
out
on
the
table
from
the
great
gash
in
his
belly
,
and
Lord
Eddard
was
headless
beside
him
.
Corpses
lined
the
benches
below
,
grey
-
brown
flesh
sloughing
off
their
bones
as
they
raised
their
cups
to
toast
,
worms
crawling
in
and
out
of
the
holes
that
were
their
eyes
.
He
knew
them
,
every
one
;
Jory
Cassel
and
Fat
Tom
,
Porther
and
Cayn
and
Hullen
the
master
of
horse
,
and
all
the
others
who
had
ridden
south
to
King
’
s
Landing
never
to
return
.
Mikken
and
Chayle
sat
together
,
one
dripping
blood
and
the
other
water
.
Benfred
Tallhart
and
his
Wild
Hares
filled
most
of
a
table
.
The
miller
’
s
wife
was
there
as
well
,
and
Farlen
,
even
the
wildling
Theon
had
killed
in
the
wolfswood
the
day
he
had
saved
Bran
’
s
life
.
But
there
were
others
with
faces
he
had
never
known
in
life
,
faces
he
had
seen
only
in
stone
.
The
slim
,
sad
girl
who
wore
a
crown
of
pale
blue
roses
and
a
white
gown
spattered
with
gore
could
only
be
Lyanna
.
Her
brother
Brandon
stood
beside
her
,
and
their
father
Lord
Rickard
just
behind
.
Along
the
walls
figures
half
-
seen
moved
through
the
shadows
,
pale
shades
with
long
grim
faces
.
The
sight
of
them
sent
fear
shivering
through
Theon
sharp
as
a
knife
.
And
then
the
tall
doors
opened
with
a
crash
,
and
a
freezing
gale
blew
down
the
hall
,
and
Robb
came
walking
out
of
the
night
.
Grey
Wind
stalked
beside
,
eyes
burning
,
and
man
and
wolf
alike
bled
from
half
a
hundred
savage
wounds
.
Theon
woke
with
a
scream
,
startling
Wex
so
badly
that
the
boy
ran
naked
from
the
room
.
When
his
guards
burst
in
with
drawn
swords
,
he
ordered
them
to
bring
him
the
maester
.
By
the
time
Luwin
arrived
rumpled
and
sleepy
,
a
cup
of
wine
had
steadied
Theon
’
s
hands
,
and
he
was
feeling
ashamed
of
his
panic
.
"
A
dream
,
"
he
muttered
,
"
that
was
all
it
was
.
It
meant
nothing
.
"
"
Nothing
,
"
Luwin
agreed
solemnly
.
He
left
a
sleeping
draught
,
but
Theon
poured
it
down
the
privy
shaft
the
moment
he
was
gone
.
Luwin
was
a
man
as
well
as
a
maester
,
and
the
man
had
no
love
for
him
.
