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- Джордж Мартин
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- Игра престолов
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- Стр. 13/751
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But
the
man
they
found
bound
hand
and
foot
to
the
holdfast
wall
awaiting
the
king
's
justice
was
old
and
scrawny
,
not
much
taller
than
Robb
.
He
had
lost
both
ears
and
a
finger
to
frostbite
,
and
he
dressed
all
in
black
,
the
same
as
a
brother
of
the
Night
's
Watch
,
except
that
his
furs
were
ragged
and
greasy
.
The
breath
of
man
and
horse
mingled
,
steaming
,
in
the
cold
morning
air
as
his
lord
father
had
the
man
cut
down
from
the
wall
and
dragged
before
them
.
Robb
and
Jon
sat
tall
and
still
on
their
horses
,
with
Bran
between
them
on
his
pony
,
trying
to
seem
older
than
seven
,
trying
to
pretend
that
he
'd
seen
all
this
before
.
A
faint
wind
blew
through
the
holdfast
gate
.
Over
their
heads
flapped
the
banner
of
the
Starks
of
Winterfell
:
a
grey
direwolf
racing
across
an
ice-white
field
.
Bran
's
father
sat
solemnly
on
his
horse
,
long
brown
hair
stirring
in
the
wind
.
His
closely
trimmed
beard
was
shot
with
white
,
making
him
look
older
than
his
thirty-five
years
.
He
had
a
grim
cast
to
his
grey
eyes
this
day
,
and
he
seemed
not
at
all
the
man
who
would
sit
before
the
fire
in
the
evening
and
talk
softly
of
the
age
of
heroes
and
the
children
of
the
forest
.
He
had
taken
off
Father
's
face
,
Bran
thought
,
and
donned
the
face
of
Lord
Stark
of
Winterfell
.
There
were
questions
asked
and
answers
given
there
in
the
chill
of
morning
,
but
afterward
Bran
could
not
recall
much
of
what
had
been
said
.
Finally
his
lord
father
gave
a
command
,
and
two
of
his
guardsmen
dragged
the
ragged
man
to
the
ironwood
stump
in
the
center
of
the
square
.
They
forced
his
head
down
onto
the
hard
black
wood
.
Lord
Eddard
Stark
dismounted
and
his
ward
Theon
Greyjoy
brought
forth
the
sword
.
"
Ice
,
"
that
sword
was
called
.
It
was
as
wide
across
as
a
man
's
hand
,
and
taller
even
than
Robb
.
The
blade
was
Valyrian
steel
,
spell-forged
and
dark
as
smoke
.
Nothing
held
an
edge
like
Valyrian
steel
.
His
father
peeled
off
his
gloves
and
handed
them
to
Jory
Cassel
,
the
captain
of
his
household
guard
.
He
took
hold
of
Ice
with
both
hands
and
said
,
"
In
the
name
of
Robert
of
the
House
Baratheon
,
the
First
of
his
Name
,
King
of
the
Andals
and
the
Rhoynar
and
the
First
Men
,
Lord
of
the
Seven
Kingdoms
and
Protector
of
the
Realm
,
by
the
word
of
Eddard
of
the
House
Stark
,
Lord
of
Winterfell
and
Warden
of
the
North
,
I
do
sentence
you
to
die
.
"
He
lifted
the
greatsword
high
above
his
head
.
Bran
's
bastard
brother
Jon
Snow
moved
closer
.
"
Keep
the
pony
well
in
hand
,
"
he
whispered
.
"
And
do
n't
look
away
.
Father
will
know
if
you
do
.
"
Bran
kept
his
pony
well
in
hand
,
and
did
not
look
away
.
His
father
took
off
the
man
's
head
with
a
single
sure
stroke
.
Blood
sprayed
out
across
the
snow
,
as
red
as
surnmerwine
.
One
of
the
horses
reared
and
had
to
be
restrained
to
keep
from
bolting
.
Bran
could
not
take
his
eyes
off
the
blood
.
The
snows
around
the
stump
drank
it
eagerly
,
reddening
as
he
watched
.
