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- Джордж Мартин
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- Стр. 739/853
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Beyond
the
line
of
warships
,
Davos
could
see
the
Red
Keep
up
on
Aegon
’
s
High
Hill
,
dark
against
a
lemon
sky
,
with
the
mouth
of
the
Rush
opening
out
below
.
Across
the
river
the
south
shore
was
black
with
men
and
horses
,
stirring
like
angry
ants
as
they
caught
sight
of
the
approaching
ships
.
Stannis
would
have
kept
them
busy
building
rafts
and
fletching
arrows
,
yet
even
so
the
waiting
would
have
been
a
hard
thing
to
bear
.
Trumpets
sounded
from
among
them
,
tiny
and
brazen
,
soon
swallowed
by
the
roar
of
a
thousand
shouts
.
Davos
closed
his
stubby
hand
around
the
pouch
that
held
his
fingerbones
,
and
mouthed
a
silent
prayer
for
luck
.
Fury
herself
would
center
the
first
line
of
battle
,
flanked
by
the
Lord
Steffon
and
the
Stag
of
the
Sea
,
each
of
two
hundred
oars
.
On
the
port
and
starboard
wings
were
the
hundreds
:
Lady
Harra
,
Brightfish
,
Laughing
Lord
,
Sea
Demon
,
Horned
Honor
,
Ragged
Jenna
,
Trident
Three
,
Swift
Sword
,
Princess
Rhaenys
,
Dog
’
s
Nose
,
Sceptre
,
Faithful
,
Red
Raven
,
Queen
Alysanne
,
Cat
,
Courageous
,
and
Dragonsbane
.
From
every
stern
streamed
the
fiery
heart
of
the
Lord
of
Light
,
red
and
yellow
and
orange
.
Behind
Davos
and
his
sons
came
another
line
of
hundreds
commanded
by
knights
and
lordly
captains
,
and
then
the
smaller
,
slower
Myrish
contingent
,
none
dipping
more
than
eighty
oars
.
Farther
back
would
come
the
sailed
ships
,
carracks
and
lumbering
great
cogs
,
and
last
of
all
Salladhor
Saan
in
his
proud
Valyrian
,
a
towering
three
-
hundred
,
paced
by
the
rest
of
his
galleys
with
their
distinctive
striped
hulls
.
The
flamboyant
Lyseni
princeling
had
not
been
pleased
to
be
assigned
the
rear
guard
,
but
it
was
clear
that
Ser
Imry
trusted
him
no
more
than
Stannis
did
.
Too
many
complaints
,
and
too
much
talk
of
the
gold
he
was
owed
.
Davos
was
sorry
nonetheless
.
Salladhor
Saan
was
a
resourceful
old
pirate
,
and
his
crews
were
born
seamen
,
fearless
in
a
fight
.
They
were
wasted
in
the
rear
.
Ahooooooooooooooooooooooooo
.
The
call
rolled
across
whitecaps
and
churning
oars
from
the
forecastle
of
the
Fury
:
Ser
Imry
was
sounding
the
attack
.
Ahoooooooooooooooooooo
,
ahooooooooooooooooooooo
.
Swordfish
had
joined
the
line
at
last
,
though
she
still
had
her
sail
raised
.
"
Fast
cruise
,
"
Davos
barked
.
The
drum
began
to
beat
more
quickly
,
and
the
stroke
picked
up
,
the
blades
of
the
oars
cutting
water
,
splash
-
swoosh
,
splash
-
swoosh
,
splash
-
swoosh
.
On
deck
,
soldiers
banged
sword
against
shield
,
while
archers
quietly
strung
their
bows
and
pulled
the
first
arrow
from
the
quivers
at
their
belts
.
The
galleys
of
the
first
line
of
battle
obscured
his
vision
,
so
Davos
paced
the
deck
searching
for
a
better
view
.
He
saw
no
sign
of
any
boom
;
the
mouth
of
the
river
was
open
,
as
if
to
swallow
them
all
.
Except
.
.
.
In
his
smuggling
days
,
Davos
had
often
jested
that
he
knew
the
waterfront
at
King
’
s
Landing
a
deal
better
than
the
back
of
his
hand
,
since
he
had
not
spent
a
good
part
of
his
life
sneaking
in
and
out
of
the
back
of
his
hand
.
The
squat
towers
of
raw
new
stone
that
stood
opposite
one
another
at
the
mouth
of
the
Blackwater
might
mean
nothing
to
Ser
Imry
Florent
,
but
to
him
it
was
as
if
two
extra
fingers
had
sprouted
from
his
knuckles
.
Shading
his
eyes
against
the
westering
sun
,
he
peered
at
those
towers
more
closely
.
They
were
too
small
to
hold
much
of
a
garrison
.
The
one
on
the
north
bank
was
built
against
the
bluff
with
the
Red
Keep
frowning
above
;
its
counterpart
on
the
south
shore
had
its
footing
in
the
water
.
They
dug
a
cut
through
the
bank
,
he
knew
at
once
.
That
would
make
the
tower
very
difficult
to
assault
;
attackers
would
need
to
wade
through
the
water
or
bridge
the
little
channel
.
Stannis
had
posted
bowmen
below
,
to
fire
up
at
the
defenders
whenever
one
was
rash
enough
to
lift
his
head
above
the
ramparts
,
but
otherwise
had
not
troubled
.
Something
flashed
down
low
where
the
dark
water
swirled
around
the
base
of
the
tower
.
It
was
sunlight
on
steel
,
and
it
told
Davos
Seaworth
all
he
needed
to
know
.
A
chain
boom
.
.
.
and
yet
they
have
not
closed
the
river
against
us
.
Why
?
He
could
make
a
guess
at
that
as
well
,
but
there
was
no
time
to
consider
the
question
.
A
shout
went
up
from
the
ships
ahead
,
and
the
warhorns
blew
again
:
the
enemy
was
before
them
.
