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- Джордж Мартин
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- Игра престолов
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- Стр. 187/751
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"
Often
,
and
with
some
heat
,
"
Ned
said
,
hoping
that
would
end
it
.
He
had
no
patience
with
this
game
they
played
,
this
dueling
with
words
.
"
I
should
have
thought
that
heat
ill
suits
you
Starks
,
"
Littlefinger
said
.
"
Here
in
the
south
,
they
say
you
are
all
made
of
ice
,
and
melt
when
you
ride
below
the
Neck
.
"
"
I
do
not
plan
on
melting
soon
,
Lord
Baelish
.
You
may
count
on
it
.
"
Ned
moved
to
the
council
table
and
said
,
"
Maester
Pycelle
,
I
trust
you
are
well
.
"
The
Grand
Maester
smiled
gently
from
his
tall
chair
at
the
foot
of
the
table
.
"
Well
enough
for
a
man
of
my
years
,
my
lord
,
"
he
replied
,
"
yet
I
do
tire
easily
,
I
fear
.
"
Wispy
strands
of
white
hair
fringed
the
broad
bald
dome
of
his
forehead
above
a
kindly
face
.
His
maester
's
collar
was
no
simple
metal
choker
such
as
Luwin
wore
,
but
two
dozen
heavy
chains
wound
together
into
a
ponderous
metal
necklace
that
covered
him
from
throat
to
breast
.
The
links
were
forged
of
every
metal
known
to
man
:
black
iron
and
red
gold
,
bright
copper
and
dull
lead
,
steel
and
tin
and
pale
silver
,
brass
and
bronze
and
platinum
.
Garnets
and
amethysts
and
black
pearls
adorned
the
metalwork
,
and
here
and
there
an
emerald
or
ruby
.
"
Perhaps
we
might
begin
soon
,
"
the
Grand
Maester
said
,
hands
knitting
together
atop
his
broad
stomach
.
"
I
fear
I
shall
fall
asleep
if
we
wait
much
longer
.
"
"
As
you
will
.
"
The
king
's
seat
sat
empty
at
the
head
of
the
table
,
the
crowned
stag
of
Baratheon
embroidered
in
gold
thread
on
its
pillows
.
Ned
took
the
chair
beside
it
,
as
the
right
hand
of
his
king
.
"
My
lords
,
"
he
said
formally
,
"
I
am
sorry
to
have
kept
you
waiting
.
"
"
You
are
the
King
's
Hand
,
"
Varys
said
.
"
We
serve
at
your
pleasure
,
Lord
Stark
.
"
As
the
others
took
their
accustomed
seats
,
it
struck
Eddard
Stark
forcefully
that
he
did
not
belong
here
,
in
this
room
,
with
these
men
.
He
remembered
what
Robert
had
told
him
in
the
crypts
below
Winterfell
.
I
am
surrounded
by
flatterers
and
fools
,
the
king
had
insisted
.
Ned
looked
down
the
council
table
and
wondered
which
were
the
flatterers
and
which
the
fools
.
He
thought
he
knew
already
.
"
We
are
but
five
,
"
he
pointed
out
.
"
Lord
Stannis
took
himself
to
Dragonstone
not
long
after
the
king
went
north
,
"
Varys
said
,
"
and
our
gallant
Ser
Barristan
no
doubt
rides
beside
the
king
as
he
makes
his
way
through
the
city
,
as
befits
the
Lord
Commander
of
the
Kingsguard
.
"
"
Perhaps
we
had
best
wait
for
Ser
Barristan
and
the
king
to
join
us
,
"
Ned
suggested
.
