-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Джордж Мартин
-
- Игра престолов
-
- Стр. 172/751
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
"
The
bastard
hamstrung
you
,
opened
your
empty
skull
,
and
cut
off
your
hand
.
Or
would
have
,
if
these
blades
had
an
edge
.
It
's
fortunate
for
you
that
the
Watch
needs
stableboys
as
well
as
rangers
.
"
Ser
Alliser
gestured
at
Jeren
and
Toad
.
"
Get
the
Aurochs
on
his
feet
,
he
has
funeral
arrangements
to
make
.
"
Jon
took
off
his
helm
as
the
other
boys
were
pulling
Grenn
to
his
feet
.
The
frosty
morning
air
felt
good
on
his
face
.
He
leaned
on
his
sword
,
drew
a
deep
breath
,
and
allowed
himself
a
moment
to
savor
the
victory
.
"
That
is
a
longsword
,
not
an
old
man
's
cane
,
"
Ser
Alliser
said
sharply
.
"
Are
your
legs
hurting
,
Lord
Snow
?
"
Jon
hated
that
name
,
a
mockery
that
Ser
Alliser
had
hung
on
him
the
first
day
he
came
to
practice
.
The
boys
had
picked
it
up
,
and
now
he
heard
it
everywhere
.
He
slid
the
longsword
back
into
its
scabbard
.
"
No
,
"
he
replied
.
Thorne
strode
toward
him
,
crisp
black
leathers
whispering
faintly
as
he
moved
.
He
was
a
compact
man
of
fifty
years
,
spare
and
hard
,
with
grey
in
his
black
hair
and
eyes
like
chips
of
onyx
.
"
The
truth
now
,
"
he
commanded
.
"
I
'm
tired
,
"
Jon
admitted
.
His
arm
burned
from
the
weight
of
the
longsword
,
and
he
was
starting
to
feel
his
bruises
now
that
the
fight
was
done
.
"
What
you
are
is
weak
.
"
"
I
won
.
"
"
No
.
The
Aurochs
lost
.
"
