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- Джордж Мартин
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"
As
you
say
.
For
now
.
Men
.
"
The
gold
cloaks
sheathed
and
mounted
up
.
"
You
’
d
best
scamper
up
to
that
Wall
of
yours
in
a
hurry
,
old
man
.
The
next
time
I
catch
you
,
I
believe
I
’
ll
have
your
head
to
go
with
the
bastard
boy
’
s
.
"
"
Better
men
than
you
have
tried
.
"
Yoren
slapped
the
rump
of
the
officer
’
s
horse
with
the
flat
of
his
sword
and
sent
him
reeling
off
down
the
kingsroad
.
His
men
followed
When
they
were
out
of
sight
,
Hot
Pie
began
to
whoop
,
but
Yoren
looked
angrier
than
ever
.
"
Fool
!
You
think
he
’
s
done
with
us
?
Next
time
he
won
’
t
prance
up
and
hand
me
no
damn
ribbon
.
Get
the
rest
out
o
’
them
baths
,
we
need
to
be
moving
.
Ride
all
night
,
maybe
we
can
stay
ahead
o
’
them
for
a
bit
.
"
He
scooped
up
the
shortsword
the
officer
had
dropped
.
"
Who
wants
this
?
"
"
Me
!
"
Hot
Pie
yelled
.
"
Don
’
t
be
using
it
on
Arry
.
"
He
handed
the
boy
the
sword
,
hilt
-
first
,
and
walked
over
to
Arya
,
but
it
was
the
Bull
he
spoke
to
.
"
Queen
wants
you
bad
,
boy
.
"
Arya
was
lost
.
"
Why
should
she
want
him
?
"
The
Bull
scowled
at
her
.
"
Why
should
she
want
you
?
You
’
re
nothing
but
a
little
gutter
rat
!
"
"
Well
,
you
’
re
nothing
but
a
bastard
boy
!
"
Or
maybe
he
was
only
pretending
to
be
a
bastard
boy
.
"
What
’
s
your
true
name
?
"
"
Gendry
,
"
he
said
,
like
he
wasn
’
t
quite
sure
.
"
Don
’
t
see
why
no
one
wants
neither
o
’
you
,
"
Yoren
said
,
"
but
they
can
’
t
have
you
regardless
.
You
ride
them
two
coursers
.
First
sight
of
a
gold
cloak
,
make
for
the
Wall
like
a
dragon
’
s
on
your
tail
.
The
rest
o
’
us
don
’
t
mean
spit
to
them
.
"
