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- Джордж Мартин
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- Стр. 803/853
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On
his
knees
,
Littlefinger
raised
his
eyes
to
King
Joffrey
.
"
I
thank
you
humbly
,
Your
Grace
.
I
suppose
this
means
I
’
ll
need
to
see
about
getting
some
sons
and
grandsons
.
"
Joffrey
laughed
,
and
the
court
with
him
.
Lord
Paramount
of
the
Trident
,
Sansa
thought
,
and
Lord
of
Harrenhal
as
well
.
She
did
not
understand
why
that
should
make
him
so
happy
;
the
honors
were
as
empty
as
the
title
granted
to
Hallyne
the
Pyromancer
.
Harrenhal
was
cursed
,
everyone
knew
that
,
and
the
Lannisters
did
not
even
hold
it
at
present
.
Besides
,
the
lords
of
the
Trident
were
sworn
to
Riverrun
and
House
Tully
,
and
to
the
King
in
the
North
;
they
would
never
accept
Littlefinger
as
their
liege
.
Unless
they
are
made
to
.
Unless
my
brother
and
my
uncle
and
my
grandfather
are
all
cast
down
and
killed
.
The
thought
made
Sansa
anxious
,
but
she
told
herself
she
was
being
silly
.
Robb
has
beaten
them
every
time
.
He
’
ll
beat
Lord
Baelish
too
,
if
he
must
.
More
than
six
hundred
new
knights
were
made
that
day
.
They
had
held
their
vigil
in
the
Great
Sept
of
Baelor
all
through
the
night
and
crossed
the
city
barefoot
that
morning
to
prove
their
humble
hearts
.
Now
they
came
forward
dressed
in
shifts
of
undyed
wool
to
receive
their
knighthoods
from
the
Kingsguard
.
It
took
a
long
time
,
since
only
three
of
the
Brothers
of
the
White
Sword
were
on
hand
to
dub
them
.
Mandon
Moore
had
perished
in
the
battle
,
the
Hound
had
vanished
,
Aerys
Oakheart
was
in
Dorne
with
Princess
Myrcella
,
and
Jaime
Lannister
was
Robb
’
s
captive
,
so
the
Kingsguard
had
been
reduced
to
Balon
Swann
,
Meryn
Trant
,
and
Osmund
Kettleblack
.
Once
knighted
,
each
man
rose
,
buckled
on
his
swordbelt
,
and
stood
beneath
the
windows
.
Some
had
bloody
feet
from
their
walk
through
the
city
,
but
they
stood
tall
and
proud
all
the
same
,
it
seemed
to
Sansa
.
By
the
time
all
the
new
knights
had
been
given
their
sers
the
hall
was
growing
restive
,
and
none
more
so
than
Joffrey
.
Some
of
those
in
the
gallery
had
begun
to
slip
quietly
away
,
but
the
notables
on
the
floor
were
trapped
,
unable
to
depart
without
the
king
’
s
leave
.
Judging
by
the
way
he
was
fidgeting
atop
the
Iron
Throne
,
Joff
would
willingly
have
granted
it
,
but
the
day
’
s
work
was
far
from
done
.
For
now
the
coin
was
turned
over
,
and
the
captives
were
ushered
in
.
There
were
great
lords
and
noble
knights
in
that
company
too
:
sour
old
Lord
Celtigar
,
the
Red
Crab
;
Ser
Bonifer
the
Good
;
Lord
Estermont
,
more
ancient
even
than
Celtigar
;
Lord
Varner
,
who
hobbled
the
length
of
the
hall
on
a
shattered
knee
,
but
would
accept
no
help
;
Ser
Mark
Mullendore
,
grey
-
faced
,
his
left
arm
gone
to
the
elbow
;
fierce
Red
Ronnet
of
Griffin
Roost
;
Ser
Dermot
of
the
Rainwood
;
Lord
Willurn
and
his
sons
Josua
and
Elyas
;
Ser
Jon
Fossoway
;
Ser
Timon
the
Scrapesword
;
Aurane
,
the
bastard
of
Driftmark
;
Lord
Staedmon
,
called
Pennylover
;
hundreds
of
others
.
Those
who
had
changed
their
allegiance
during
the
battle
needed
only
to
swear
fealty
to
Joffrey
,
but
the
ones
who
had
fought
for
Stannis
until
the
bitter
end
were
compelled
to
speak
.
Their
words
decided
their
fate
.
If
they
begged
forgiveness
for
their
treasons
and
promised
to
serve
loyally
henceforth
,
Joffrey
welcomed
them
back
into
the
king
’
s
peace
and
restored
them
to
all
their
lands
and
rights
.
A
handful
remained
defiant
,
however
.
"
Do
not
imagine
this
is
done
,
boy
,
"
warned
one
,
the
bastard
son
of
some
Florent
or
other
.
"
The
Lord
of
Light
protects
King
Stannis
,
now
and
always
.
All
your
swords
and
all
your
scheming
shall
not
save
you
when
his
hour
comes
.
"
"
Your
hour
is
come
right
now
.
"
Joffrey
beckoned
to
Ser
Ilyn
Payne
to
take
the
man
out
and
strike
his
head
off
.
But
no
sooner
had
that
one
been
dragged
away
than
a
knight
of
solemn
mien
with
a
fiery
heart
on
his
surcoat
shouted
out
,
"
Stannis
is
the
true
king
!
A
monster
sits
the
Iron
Throne
,
an
abomination
born
of
incest
!
"
