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- Джордж Мартин
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- Игра престолов
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- Стр. 159/751
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He
looked
south
,
and
saw
the
great
blue-green
rush
of
the
Trident
.
He
saw
his
father
pleading
with
the
king
,
his
face
etched
with
grief
.
He
saw
Sansa
crying
herself
to
sleep
at
night
,
and
he
saw
Arya
watching
in
silence
and
holding
her
secrets
hard
in
her
heart
.
There
were
shadows
all
around
them
.
One
shadow
was
dark
as
ash
,
with
the
terrible
face
of
a
hound
.
Another
was
armored
like
the
sun
,
golden
and
beautiful
.
Over
them
both
loomed
a
giant
in
armor
made
of
stone
,
but
when
he
opened
his
visor
,
there
was
nothing
inside
but
darkness
and
thick
black
blood
.
He
lifted
his
eyes
and
saw
clear
across
the
narrow
sea
,
to
the
Free
Cities
and
the
green
Dothraki
sea
and
beyond
,
to
Vaes
Dothrak
under
its
mountain
,
to
the
fabled
lands
of
the
JadeSea
,
to
Asshai
by
the
Shadow
,
where
dragons
stirred
beneath
the
sunrise
.
Finally
he
looked
north
.
He
saw
the
Wall
shining
like
blue
crystal
,
and
his
bastard
brother
Jon
sleeping
alone
in
a
cold
bed
,
his
skin
growing
pale
and
hard
as
the
memory
of
all
warmth
fled
from
him
.
And
he
looked
past
the
Wall
,
past
endless
forests
cloaked
in
snow
,
past
the
frozen
shore
and
the
great
blue-white
rivers
of
ice
and
the
dead
plains
where
nothing
grew
or
lived
.
North
and
north
and
north
he
looked
,
to
the
curtain
of
light
at
the
end
of
the
world
,
and
then
beyond
that
curtain
.
He
looked
deep
into
the
heart
of
winter
,
and
then
he
cried
out
,
afraid
,
and
the
heat
of
his
tears
burned
on
his
cheeks
.
Now
you
know
,
the
crow
whispered
as
it
sat
on
his
shoulder
.
Now
you
know
why
you
must
live
.
"
Why
?
"
Bran
said
,
not
understanding
,
falling
,
falling
.
Because
winter
is
coming
.
Bran
looked
at
the
crow
on
his
shoulder
,
and
the
crow
looked
back
.
It
had
three
eyes
,
and
the
third
eye
was
full
of
a
terrible
knowledge
.
Bran
looked
down
.
There
was
nothing
below
him
now
but
snow
and
cold
and
death
,
a
frozen
wasteland
where
jagged
blue-white
spires
of
ice
waited
to
embrace
him
.
They
flew
up
at
him
like
spears
.
He
saw
the
bones
of
a
thousand
other
dreamers
impaled
upon
their
points
.
He
was
desperately
afraid
.
"
Can
a
man
still
be
brave
if
he
's
afraid
?
"
he
heard
his
own
voice
saying
,
small
and
far
away
.
And
his
father
's
voice
replied
to
him
.
"
That
is
the
only
time
a
man
can
be
brave
.
"
Now
,
Bran
,
the
crow
urged
.
Choose
.
Fly
or
die
.
