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- Джордж Мартин
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Between
the
flashing
oars
of
Sceptre
and
Faithful
,
Davos
saw
a
thin
line
of
galleys
drawn
across
the
river
,
the
sun
glinting
off
the
gold
paint
that
marked
their
hulls
.
He
knew
those
ships
as
well
as
he
knew
his
own
.
When
he
had
been
a
smuggler
,
he
’
d
always
felt
safer
knowing
whether
the
sail
on
the
horizon
marked
a
fast
ship
or
a
slow
one
,
and
whether
her
captain
was
a
young
man
hungry
for
glory
or
an
old
one
serving
out
his
days
.
Ahooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
,
the
warhorns
called
.
"
Battle
speed
,
"
Davos
shouted
.
On
port
and
starboard
he
heard
Dale
and
Allard
giving
the
same
command
.
Drums
began
to
beat
furiously
,
oars
rose
and
fell
,
and
Black
Betha
surged
forward
.
When
he
glanced
toward
Wraith
,
Dale
gave
him
a
salute
.
Swordfish
was
lagging
once
more
,
wallowing
in
the
wake
of
the
smaller
ships
to
either
side
;
elsewise
the
line
was
straight
as
a
shield
wall
.
The
river
that
had
seemed
so
narrow
from
a
distance
now
stretched
wide
as
a
sea
,
but
the
city
had
grown
gigantic
as
well
.
Glowering
down
from
Aegon
’
s
High
Hill
,
the
Red
Keep
commanded
the
approaches
.
Its
iron
-
crowned
battlements
,
massive
towers
,
and
thick
red
walls
gave
it
the
aspect
of
a
ferocious
beast
hunched
above
river
and
streets
.
The
bluffs
on
which
it
crouched
were
steep
and
rocky
,
spotted
with
lichen
and
gnarled
thorny
trees
.
The
fleet
would
have
to
pass
below
the
castle
to
reach
the
harbor
and
city
beyond
.
Davos
tasted
a
trap
,
yet
he
saw
no
sign
of
any
foes
sweeping
in
behind
them
,
only
the
great
fleet
of
Stannis
Baratheon
in
their
ordered
ranks
,
stretching
back
to
the
watery
horizon
.
Will
they
raise
the
chain
and
cut
us
in
two
?
He
could
not
see
what
good
that
would
serve
.
The
ships
left
out
in
the
bay
could
still
land
men
north
of
the
city
;
a
slower
crossing
,
but
safer
.
A
flight
of
flickering
orange
birds
took
wing
from
the
castle
,
twenty
or
thirty
of
them
;
pots
of
burning
pitch
,
arcing
out
over
the
river
trailing
threads
of
flame
.
The
waters
ate
most
,
but
a
few
found
the
decks
of
galleys
in
the
first
line
of
battle
,
spreading
flame
when
they
shattered
.
Men
-
at
-
arms
were
scrambling
on
Queen
Alysanne
’
s
deck
,
and
he
could
see
smoke
rising
from
three
different
spots
on
Dragonsbane
,
nearest
the
bank
.
By
then
a
second
flight
was
on
its
way
,
and
arrows
were
falling
as
well
,
hissing
down
from
the
archers
’
nests
that
studded
the
towers
above
.
A
soldier
tumbled
over
Cat
’
s
gunwale
,
crashed
off
the
oars
,
and
sank
.
The
first
man
to
die
today
,
Davos
thought
,
but
he
will
not
be
the
last
.
Atop
the
Red
Keep
’
s
battlements
streamed
the
boy
king
’
s
banners
:
the
crowned
stag
of
Baratheon
on
its
gold
field
,
the
lion
of
Lannister
on
crimson
.
More
pots
of
pitch
came
flying
.
Davos
heard
men
shriek
as
fire
spread
across
Courageous
.
Her
oarsmen
were
safe
below
,
protected
from
missiles
by
the
half
-
deck
that
sheltered
them
,
but
the
men
-
at
-
arms
crowded
topside
were
not
so
fortunate
.
The
starboard
wing
was
taking
all
the
damage
,
as
he
had
feared
.
It
will
be
our
turn
soon
,
he
reminded
himself
,
uneasy
.
Black
Betha
was
well
in
range
of
the
firepots
,
being
the
sixth
ship
out
from
the
north
bank
.
To
starboard
,
she
had
only
Allard
’
s
Lady
Marya
,
the
ungainly
Swordfish
—
so
far
behind
now
that
she
was
nearer
the
third
line
than
the
second
—
and
Piety
,
Prayer
,
and
Devotion
,
who
would
need
all
the
godly
intervention
they
could
get
,
placed
as
vulnerably
as
they
were
.
As
the
second
line
swept
past
the
twin
towers
,
Davos
took
a
closer
look
.
He
could
see
three
links
of
a
huge
chain
snaking
out
from
a
hole
no
bigger
than
a
man
’
s
head
and
disappearing
under
the
water
.
The
towers
had
a
single
door
,
set
a
good
twenty
feet
off
the
ground
.
Bowmen
on
the
roof
of
the
northern
tower
were
firing
down
at
Prayer
and
Devotion
.
The
archers
on
Devotion
fired
back
,
and
Davos
heard
a
man
scream
as
the
arrows
found
him
.
