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- Джордж Мартин
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- Игра престолов
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- Стр. 139/751
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One
knight
wore
an
intricate
suit
of
white
enameled
scales
,
brilliant
as
a
field
of
new-fallen
snow
,
with
silver
chasings
and
clasps
that
glittered
in
the
sun
.
When
he
removed
his
helm
,
Sansa
saw
that
he
was
an
old
man
with
hair
as
pale
as
his
armor
,
yet
he
seemed
strong
and
graceful
for
all
that
.
From
his
shoulders
hung
the
pure
white
cloak
of
the
Kingsguard
.
His
companion
was
a
man
near
twenty
whose
armor
was
steel
plate
of
a
deep
forest-green
.
He
was
the
handsomest
man
Sansa
had
ever
set
eyes
upon
;
tall
and
powerfully
made
,
with
jet-black
hair
that
fell
to
his
shoulders
and
framed
a
clean-shaven
face
,
and
laughing
green
eyes
to
match
his
armor
.
Cradled
under
one
arm
was
an
antlered
helm
,
its
magnificent
rack
shimmering
in
gold
.
At
first
Sansa
did
not
notice
the
third
stranger
.
He
did
not
kneel
with
the
others
.
He
stood
to
one
side
,
beside
their
horses
,
a
gaunt
grim
man
who
watched
the
proceedings
in
silence
.
His
face
was
pockmarked
and
beardless
,
with
deepset
eyes
and
hollow
cheeks
.
Though
he
was
not
an
old
man
,
only
a
few
wisps
of
hair
remained
to
him
,
sprouting
above
his
ears
,
but
those
he
had
grown
long
as
a
woman
's
.
His
armor
was
iron-grey
chainmail
over
layers
of
boiled
leather
,
plain
and
unadorned
,
and
it
spoke
of
age
and
hard
use
.
Above
his
right
shoulder
the
stained
leather
hilt
of
the
blade
strapped
to
his
back
was
visible
;
a
two-handed
greatsword
,
too
long
to
be
worn
at
his
side
.
"
The
king
is
gone
hunting
,
but
I
know
he
will
be
pleased
to
see
you
when
he
returns
,
"
the
queen
was
saying
to
the
two
knights
who
knelt
before
her
,
but
Sansa
could
not
take
her
eyes
off
the
third
man
.
He
seemed
to
feel
the
weight
of
her
gaze
.
Slowly
he
turned
his
head
.
Lady
growled
.
A
terror
as
overwhelming
as
anything
Sansa
Stark
had
ever
felt
filled
her
suddenly
.
She
stepped
backward
and
bumped
into
someone
.
Strong
hands
grasped
her
by
the
shoulders
,
and
for
a
moment
Sansa
thought
it
was
her
father
,
but
when
she
turned
,
it
was
the
burned
face
of
Sandor
Clegane
looking
down
at
her
,
his
mouth
twisted
in
a
terrible
mockery
of
a
smile
.
"
You
are
shaking
,
girl
,
"
he
said
,
his
voice
rasping
.
"
Do
I
frighten
you
so
much
?
"
He
did
,
and
had
since
she
had
first
laid
eyes
on
the
ruin
that
fire
had
made
of
his
face
,
though
it
seemed
to
her
now
that
he
was
not
half
so
terrifying
as
the
other
.
Still
,
Sansa
wrenched
away
from
him
,
and
the
Hound
laughed
,
and
Lady
moved
between
them
,
rumbling
a
warning
.
Sansa
dropped
to
her
knees
to
wrap
her
arms
around
the
wolf
.
They
were
all
gathered
around
gaping
,
she
could
feel
their
eyes
on
her
,
and
here
and
there
she
heard
muttered
comments
and
titters
of
laughter
.
"
"
A
wolf
,
"
a
man
said
,
and
someone
else
said
,
"
Seven
hells
,
that
's
a
direwolf
,
"
and
the
first
man
said
,
"
What
's
it
doing
in
camp
?
"
and
the
Hound
's
rasping
voice
replied
,
"
The
Starks
use
them
for
wet
nurses
,
"
and
Sansa
realized
that
the
two
stranger
knights
were
looking
down
on
her
and
Lady
,
swords
in
their
hands
,
and
then
she
was
frightened
again
,
and
ashamed
.
Tears
filled
her
eyes
.
She
heard
the
queen
say
,
"
Joffrey
,
go
to
her
.
"
And
her
prince
was
there
.
