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- Джордж Мартин
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- Стр. 192/751
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Ned
spun
,
knife
in
hand
,
as
an
old
white-haired
man
hurried
toward
them
.
He
was
dressed
in
brown
roughspun
,
and
the
soft
flesh
under
his
chin
wobbled
as
he
ran
.
"
This
is
no
business
of
yours
,
"
Ned
began
;
then
,
suddenly
,
the
recognition
came
.
He
lowered
the
dagger
,
astonished
.
"
Ser
Rodrik
?
"
Rodrik
Cassel
nodded
.
"
Your
lady
awaits
you
upstairs
.
"
Ned
was
lost
.
"
Catelyn
is
truly
here
?
This
is
not
some
strange
jape
of
Littlefinger
's
?
"
He
sheathed
his
blade
.
"
Would
that
it
were
,
Stark
,
"
Littlefinger
said
.
"
Follow
me
,
and
try
to
look
a
shade
more
lecherous
and
a
shade
less
like
the
King
's
Hand
.
It
would
not
do
to
have
you
recognized
.
Perhaps
you
could
fondle
a
breast
or
two
,
just
in
passing
.
"
They
went
inside
,
through
a
crowded
common
room
where
a
fat
woman
was
singing
bawdy
songs
while
pretty
young
girls
in
linen
shifts
and
wisps
of
colored
silk
pressed
themselves
against
their
lovers
and
dandled
on
their
laps
.
No
one
paid
Ned
the
least
bit
of
attention
.
Ser
Rodrik
waited
below
while
Littlefinger
led
him
up
to
the
third
floor
,
along
a
corridor
,
and
through
a
door
.
Inside
,
Catelyn
was
waiting
.
She
cried
out
when
she
saw
him
,
ran
to
him
,
and
embraced
him
fiercely
.
"
My
lady
,
"
Ned
whispered
in
wonderment
.
"
Oh
,
very
good
,
"
said
Littlefinger
,
closing
the
door
.
"
You
recognized
her
.
"
"
I
feared
you
'd
never
come
,
my
lord
,
"
she
whispered
against
his
chest
.
"
Petyr
has
been
bringing
me
reports
.
He
told
me
of
your
troubles
with
Arya
and
the
young
prince
.
How
are
my
girls
?
"
"
Both
in
mourning
,
and
full
of
anger
,
"
he
told
her
.
"
Cat
,
I
do
not
understand
.
What
are
you
doing
in
King
's
Landing
?
What
's
happened
?
"
Ned
asked
his
wife
.
"
Is
it
Bran
?
Is
he
...
"
Dead
was
the
word
that
came
to
his
lips
,
but
he
could
not
say
it
.
