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- Джордж Мартин
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"
They
were
defending
me
.
"
Dany
snapped
her
hand
to
shake
the
sting
from
her
fingers
.
"
It
was
the
other
one
,
the
Qartheen
.
"
When
she
looked
around
he
was
gone
.
"
He
was
a
Sorrowful
Man
.
There
was
a
manticore
in
that
jewel
box
he
gave
me
.
This
man
knocked
it
out
of
my
hand
.
"
The
brass
merchant
was
still
rolling
on
the
ground
.
She
went
to
him
and
helped
him
to
his
feet
.
"
Were
you
stung
?
"
"
No
,
good
lady
,
"
he
said
,
shaking
,
"
or
else
I
would
be
dead
.
But
it
touched
me
,
aieeee
,
when
it
fell
from
the
box
it
landed
on
my
arm
.
"
He
had
soiled
himself
,
she
saw
,
and
no
wonder
.
She
gave
him
a
silver
for
his
trouble
and
sent
him
on
his
way
before
she
turned
back
to
the
old
man
with
the
white
beard
.
"
Who
is
it
that
I
owe
my
life
to
?
"
"
You
owe
me
nothing
,
Your
Grace
.
I
am
called
Arstan
,
though
Belwas
named
me
Whitebeard
on
the
voyage
here
.
"
Though
Jhogo
had
released
him
the
old
man
remained
on
one
knee
.
Aggo
picked
up
his
staff
,
turned
it
over
,
cursed
softly
in
Dothraki
,
scraped
the
remains
of
the
manticore
off
on
a
stone
,
and
handed
it
back
.
"
And
who
is
Belwas
?
"
she
asked
.
The
huge
brown
eunuch
swaggered
forward
,
sheathing
his
arakh
.
"
I
am
Belwas
.
Strong
Belwas
they
name
me
in
the
fighting
pits
of
Meereen
.
Never
did
I
lose
.
"
He
slapped
his
belly
,
covered
with
scars
.
"
I
let
each
man
cut
me
once
,
before
I
kill
him
.
Count
the
cuts
and
you
will
know
how
many
Strong
Belwas
has
slain
.
"
Dany
had
no
need
to
count
his
scars
;
there
were
many
,
she
could
see
at
a
glance
.
"
And
why
are
you
here
,
Strong
Belwas
?
"
"
From
Meereen
I
am
sold
to
Qohor
,
and
then
to
Pentos
and
the
fat
man
with
sweet
stink
in
his
hair
.
He
it
was
who
send
Strong
Belwas
back
across
the
sea
,
and
old
Whitebeard
to
serve
him
.
"
The
fat
man
with
sweet
stink
in
his
hair
.
.
.
"
Illyrio
?
"
she
said
.
"
You
were
sent
by
Magister
Illyrio
?
"
