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- Джордж Мартин
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- Игра престолов
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- Стр. 120/751
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"
You
do
n't
want
to
know
.
"
Jon
picked
up
the
wineskin
and
handed
it
to
Tyrion
.
Tyrion
pulled
out
the
stopper
,
tilted
his
head
,
and
squeezed
a
long
stream
into
his
mouth
.
The
wine
was
cool
fire
as
it
trickled
down
his
throat
and
warmed
his
belly
.
He
held
out
the
skin
to
Jon
Snow
.
"
Want
some
?
"
The
boy
took
the
skin
and
tried
a
cautious
swallow
.
"
It
's
true
,
is
n't
it
?
"
he
said
when
he
was
done
.
"
What
you
said
about
the
Night
's
Watch
.
"
Tyrion
nodded
.
Jon
Snow
set
his
mouth
in
a
grim
line
.
"
If
that
's
what
it
is
,
that
's
what
it
is
.
"
Tyrion
grinned
at
him
.
"
That
's
good
,
bastard
.
Most
men
would
rather
deny
a
hard
truth
than
face
it
.
"
"
Most
men
,
"
the
boy
said
.
"
But
not
you
.
"
"
No
,
"
Tyrion
admitted
,
"
not
me
.
I
seldom
even
dream
of
dragons
anymore
.
There
are
no
dragons
.
"
He
scooped
up
the
fallen
bearskin
.
"
Come
,
we
had
better
return
to
camp
before
your
uncle
calls
the
banners
.
"
The
walk
was
short
,
but
the
ground
was
rough
underfoot
and
his
legs
were
cramping
badly
by
the
time
they
got
back
.
Jon
Snow
offered
a
hand
to
help
him
over
a
thick
tangle
of
roots
,
but
Tyrion
shook
him
off
.
He
would
make
his
own
way
,
as
he
had
all
his
life
.
Still
,
the
camp
was
a
welcome
sight
.
The
shelters
had
been
thrown
up
against
the
tumbledown
wall
of
a
long-abandoned
holdfast
,
a
shield
against
the
wind
.
The
horses
had
been
fed
and
a
fire
had
been
laid
.
Yoren
sat
on
a
stone
,
skinning
a
squirrel
.
The
savory
smell
of
stew
filled
Tyrion
's
nostrils
.
He
dragged
himself
over
to
where
his
man
Morrec
was
tending
the
stewpot
.
Wordlessly
,
Morrec
handed
him
the
ladle
.
Tyrion
tasted
and
handed
it
back
.
"
More
pepper
,
"
he
said
.
