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- Джордж Мартин
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- Битва королей
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- Стр. 843/853
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He
felt
her
hand
on
his
face
,
stroking
back
his
hair
.
"
You
’
re
all
sweaty
,
"
she
said
.
"
Do
you
need
a
drink
?
"
"
A
drink
,
"
he
agreed
.
She
held
a
skin
to
his
lips
,
and
Bran
swallowed
so
fast
the
water
ran
out
of
the
corner
of
his
mouth
.
He
was
always
weak
and
thirsty
when
he
came
back
.
And
hungry
too
.
He
remembered
the
dying
horse
,
the
taste
of
blood
in
his
mouth
,
the
smell
of
burnt
flesh
in
the
morning
air
.
"
How
long
?
"
"
Three
days
,
"
said
Jojen
.
The
boy
had
come
up
soft
-
foot
,
or
perhaps
he
had
been
there
all
along
;
in
this
blind
black
world
,
Bran
could
not
have
said
.
"
We
were
afraid
for
you
.
"
"
I
was
with
Summer
,
"
Bran
said
.
"
Too
long
.
You
’
ll
starve
yourself
.
Meera
dribbled
a
little
water
down
your
throat
,
and
we
smeared
honey
on
your
mouth
,
but
it
is
not
enough
.
"
"
I
ate
,
"
said
Bran
.
"
We
ran
down
an
elk
and
had
to
drive
off
a
treecat
that
tried
to
steal
him
.
"
The
cat
had
been
tan
-
and
-
brown
,
only
half
the
size
of
the
direwolves
,
but
fierce
.
He
remembered
the
musky
smell
of
him
,
and
the
way
he
had
snarled
down
at
them
from
the
limb
of
the
oak
.
"
The
wolf
ate
,
"
Jojen
said
.
"
Not
you
.
Take
care
,
Bran
.
Remember
who
you
are
.
"
He
remembered
who
he
was
all
too
well
;
Bran
the
boy
,
Bran
the
broken
.
Better
Bran
the
beastling
.
Was
it
any
wonder
he
would
sooner
dream
his
Summer
dreams
,
his
wolf
dreams
?
Here
in
the
chill
damp
darkness
of
the
tomb
his
third
eye
had
finally
opened
.
He
could
reach
Summer
whenever
he
wanted
,
and
once
he
had
even
touched
Ghost
and
talked
to
Jon
.
Though
maybe
he
had
only
dreamed
that
.
He
could
not
understand
why
Jojen
was
always
trying
to
pull
him
back
now
.
Bran
used
the
strength
of
his
arms
to
squirm
to
a
sitting
position
.
"
I
have
to
tell
Osha
what
I
saw
.
Is
she
here
?
Where
did
she
go
?
"
The
wildling
woman
herself
gave
answer
.
"
Nowhere
,
m
’
lord
.
