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- Джордж Мартин
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- Игра престолов
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- Стр. 173/751
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One
of
the
other
boys
sniggered
.
Jon
knew
better
than
to
reply
.
He
had
beaten
everyone
that
Ser
Alliser
had
sent
against
him
,
yet
it
gained
him
nothing
.
The
master-at-arms
served
up
only
derision
.
Thorne
hated
him
,
Jon
had
decided
;
of
course
,
he
hated
the
other
boys
even
worse
.
"
That
will
be
all
,
"
Thorne
told
them
.
"
I
can
only
stomach
so
much
ineptitude
in
any
one
day
.
If
the
Others
ever
come
for
us
,
I
pray
they
have
archers
,
because
you
lot
are
fit
for
nothing
more
than
arrow
fodder
.
"
Jon
followed
the
rest
back
to
the
armory
,
walking
alone
.
He
often
walked
alone
here
.
There
were
almost
twenty
in
the
group
he
trained
with
,
yet
not
one
he
could
call
a
friend
.
Most
were
two
or
three
years
his
senior
,
yet
not
one
was
half
the
fighter
Robb
had
been
at
fourteen
.
Dareon
was
quick
but
afraid
of
being
hit
.
Pyp
used
his
sword
like
a
dagger
,
Jeren
was
weak
as
a
girl
,
Grenn
slow
and
clumsy
.
Halder
's
blows
were
brutally
hard
but
he
ran
right
into
your
attacks
.
The
more
time
he
spent
with
them
,
the
more
Jon
despised
them
.
Inside
,
Jon
hung
sword
and
scabbard
from
a
hook
in
the
stone
wall
,
ignoring
the
others
around
him
.
Methodically
,
he
began
to
strip
off
his
mail
,
leather
,
and
sweat-soaked
woolens
.
Chunks
of
coal
burned
in
iron
braziers
at
either
end
of
the
long
room
,
but
Jon
found
himself
shivering
.
The
chill
was
always
with
him
here
.
In
a
few
years
he
would
forget
what
it
felt
like
to
be
warm
.
The
weariness
came
on
him
suddenly
,
as
he
donned
the
roughspun
blacks
that
were
their
everyday
wear
.
He
sat
on
a
bench
,
his
fingers
fumbling
with
the
fastenings
on
his
cloak
.
So
cold
,
he
thought
,
remembering
the
warm
halls
of
Winterfell
,
where
the
hot
waters
ran
through
the
walls
like
blood
through
a
man
's
body
.
There
was
scant
warmth
to
be
found
in
Castle
Black
;
the
walls
were
cold
here
,
and
the
people
colder
.
No
one
had
told
him
the
Night
's
Watch
would
be
like
this
;
no
one
except
Tyrion
Lannister
.
The
dwarf
had
given
him
the
truth
on
the
road
north
,
but
by
then
it
had
been
too
late
.
Jon
wondered
if
his
father
had
known
what
the
Wall
would
be
like
.
He
must
have
,
he
thought
;
that
only
made
it
hurt
the
worse
.
Even
his
uncle
had
abandoned
him
in
this
cold
place
at
the
end
of
the
world
.
Up
here
,
the
genial
Benjen
Stark
he
had
known
became
a
different
person
.
He
was
First
Ranger
,
and
he
spent
his
days
and
nights
with
Lord
Commander
Mormont
and
Maester
Aemon
and
the
other
high
officers
,
while
Jon
was
given
over
to
the
less
than
tender
charge
of
Ser
Alliser
Thorne
.
Three
days
after
their
arrival
,
Jon
had
heard
that
Benjen
Stark
was
to
lead
a
half-dozen
men
on
a
ranging
into
the
haunted
forest
.
That
night
he
sought
out
his
uncle
in
the
great
timbered
common
hall
and
pleaded
to
go
with
him
.
Benjen
refused
him
curtly
.
"
This
is
not
Winterfell
,
"
he
told
him
as
he
cut
his
meat
with
fork
and
dagger
.
"
On
the
Wall
,
a
man
gets
only
what
he
earns
.
You
're
no
ranger
,
Jon
,
only
a
green
boy
with
the
smell
of
summer
still
on
you
.
"
Stupidly
,
Jon
argued
.
"
I
'll
be
fifteen
on
my
name
day
,
"
he
said
.
"
Almost
a
man
grown
.
"
