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- Джордж Мартин
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- Игра престолов
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- Стр. 182/751
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Inside
,
the
hall
was
immense
and
drafty
,
even
with
a
fire
roaring
in
its
great
hearth
.
Crows
nested
in
the
timbers
of
its
lofty
ceiling
.
Jon
heard
their
cries
overhead
as
he
accepted
a
bowl
of
stew
and
a
heel
of
black
bread
from
the
day
's
cooks
.
Grenn
and
Toad
and
some
of
the
others
were
seated
at
the
bench
nearest
the
warmth
,
laughing
and
cursing
each
other
in
rough
voices
.
Jon
eyed
them
thoughtfully
for
a
moment
.
Then
he
chose
a
spot
at
the
far
end
of
the
hall
,
well
away
from
the
other
diners
.
Tyrion
Lannister
sat
across
from
him
,
sniffing
at
the
stew
suspiciously
.
"
Barley
,
onion
,
carrot
,
"
he
muttered
.
"
Someone
should
tell
the
cooks
that
turnip
is
n't
a
meat
.
"
"
It
's
mutton
stew
.
"
Jon
pulled
off
his
gloves
and
warmed
his
hands
in
the
steam
rising
from
the
bowl
.
The
smell
made
his
mouth
water
.
"
Snow
.
"
Jon
knew
Alliser
Thorne
's
voice
,
but
there
was
a
curious
note
in
it
that
he
had
not
heard
before
.
He
turned
.
"
The
Lord
Commander
wants
to
see
you
.
Now
.
"
For
a
moment
Jon
was
too
frightened
to
move
.
Why
would
the
Lord
Commander
want
to
see
him
?
They
had
heard
something
about
Benjen
,
he
thought
wildly
,
he
was
dead
,
the
vision
had
come
true
.
"
Is
it
my
uncle
?
"
he
blurted
.
"
Is
he
returned
safe
?
"
"
The
Lord
Commander
is
not
accustomed
to
waiting
,
"
was
Ser
Alliser
's
reply
.
"
And
I
am
not
accustomed
to
having
my
commands
questioned
by
bastards
.
"
Tyrion
Lannister
swung
off
the
bench
and
rose
.
"
Stop
it
,
Thorne
.
You
're
frightening
the
boy
.
"
