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- Джордж Мартин
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- Стр. 117/751
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"
Why
do
you
read
so
much
?
"
Tyrion
looked
up
at
the
sound
of
the
voice
.
Jon
Snow
was
standing
a
few
feet
away
,
regarding
him
curiously
.
He
closed
the
book
on
a
finger
and
said
,
"
Look
at
me
and
tell
me
what
you
see
.
"
The
boy
looked
at
him
suspiciously
.
"
Is
this
some
kind
of
trick
?
I
see
you
.
Tyrion
Lannister
.
"
Tyrion
sighed
.
"
You
are
remarkably
polite
for
a
bastard
,
Snow
.
What
you
see
is
a
dwarf
.
You
are
what
,
twelve
?
"
"
Fourteen
,
"
the
boy
said
.
"
Fourteen
,
and
you
're
taller
than
I
will
ever
be
.
My
legs
are
short
and
twisted
,
and
I
walk
with
difficulty
.
I
require
a
special
saddle
to
keep
from
falling
off
my
horse
.
A
saddle
of
my
own
design
,
you
may
be
interested
to
know
.
It
was
either
that
or
ride
a
pony
.
My
arms
are
strong
enough
,
but
again
,
too
short
.
I
will
never
make
a
swordsman
.
Had
I
been
born
a
peasant
,
they
might
have
left
me
out
to
die
,
or
sold
me
to
some
slaver
's
grotesquerie
.
Alas
,
I
was
born
a
Lannister
of
Casterly
Rock
,
and
the
grotesqueries
are
all
the
poorer
.
Things
are
expected
of
me
.
My
father
was
the
Hand
of
the
King
for
twenty
years
.
My
brother
later
killed
that
very
same
king
,
as
it
turns
out
,
but
life
is
full
of
these
little
ironies
.
My
sister
married
the
new
king
and
my
repulsive
nephew
will
be
king
after
him
.
I
must
do
my
part
for
the
honor
of
my
House
,
would
n't
you
agree
?
Yet
how
?
Well
,
my
legs
may
be
too
small
for
my
body
,
but
my
head
is
too
large
,
although
I
prefer
to
think
it
is
just
large
enough
for
my
mind
.
I
have
a
realistic
grasp
of
my
own
strengths
and
weaknesses
.
My
mind
is
my
weapon
.
My
brother
has
his
sword
,
King
Robert
has
his
warhammer
,
and
I
have
my
mind
...
and
a
mind
needs
books
as
a
sword
needs
a
whetstone
,
if
it
is
to
keep
its
edge
.
"
Tyrion
tapped
the
leather
cover
of
the
book
.
"
That
's
why
I
read
so
much
,
Jon
Snow
.
"
The
boy
absorbed
that
all
in
silence
.
He
had
the
Stark
face
if
not
the
name
:
long
,
solemn
,
guarded
,
a
face
that
gave
nothing
away
.
Whoever
his
mother
had
been
,
she
had
left
little
of
herself
in
her
son
.
"
What
are
you
reading
about
?
"
he
asked
.
"
Dragons
,
"
Tyrion
told
him
.
