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- Джордж Мартин
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- Игра престолов
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- Стр. 203/751
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This
time
Tyrion
could
not
hold
his
tongue
.
"
The
fisherfolk
of
Lannisport
often
glimpse
merlings
.
"
"
Denys
Mallister
writes
that
the
mountain
people
are
moving
south
,
slipping
past
the
ShadowTower
in
numbers
greater
than
ever
before
.
They
are
running
,
my
lord
...
but
running
from
what
?
"
Lord
Mormont
moved
to
the
window
and
stared
out
into
the
night
.
"
These
are
old
bones
,
Lannister
,
but
they
have
never
felt
a
chill
like
this
.
Tell
the
king
what
I
say
,
I
pray
you
.
Winter
is
coming
,
and
when
the
Long
Night
falls
,
only
the
Night
's
Watch
will
stand
between
the
realm
and
the
darkness
that
sweeps
from
the
north
.
The
gods
help
us
all
if
we
are
not
ready
.
"
"
The
gods
help
me
if
I
do
not
get
some
sleep
tonight
.
Yoren
is
determined
to
ride
at
first
light
.
"
Tyrion
got
to
his
feet
,
sleepy
from
wine
and
tired
of
doom
.
"
I
thank
you
for
all
the
courtesies
you
have
done
me
,
Lord
Mormont
.
"
"
Tell
them
,
Tyrion
.
Tell
them
and
make
them
believe
.
That
is
all
the
thanks
I
need
.
"
He
whistled
,
and
his
raven
flew
to
him
and
perched
on
his
shoulder
.
Mormont
smiled
and
gave
the
bird
some
corn
from
his
pocket
,
and
that
was
how
Tyrion
left
him
.
It
was
bitter
cold
outside
.
Bundled
thickly
in
his
furs
,
Tyrion
Lannister
pulled
on
his
gloves
and
nodded
to
the
poor
frozen
wretches
standing
sentry
outside
the
Commander
's
Keep
.
He
set
off
across
the
yard
for
his
own
chambers
in
the
King
's
Tower
,
walking
as
briskly
as
his
legs
could
manage
.
Patches
of
snow
crunched
beneath
his
feet
as
his
boots
broke
the
night
's
crust
,
and
his
breath
steamed
before
him
like
a
banner
.
He
shoved
his
hands
into
his
armpits
and
walked
faster
,
praying
that
Morrec
had
remembered
to
warm
his
bed
with
hot
bricks
from
the
fire
.
Behind
the
King
's
Tower
,
the
Wall
glimmered
in
the
light
of
the
moon
,
immense
and
mysterious
.
Tyrion
stopped
for
a
moment
to
look
up
at
it
.
His
legs
ached
of
cold
and
haste
.
Suddenly
a
strange
madness
took
hold
of
him
,
a
yearning
to
look
once
more
off
the
end
of
the
world
.
It
would
be
his
last
chance
,
he
thought
;
tomorrow
he
would
ride
south
,
and
he
could
not
imagine
why
he
would
ever
want
to
return
to
this
frozen
desolation
.
The
King
's
Tower
was
before
him
,
with
its
promise
of
warmth
and
a
soft
bed
,
yet
Tyrion
found
himself
walking
past
it
,
toward
the
vast
pale
palisade
of
the
Wall
.
A
wooden
stair
ascended
the
south
face
,
anchored
on
huge
rough-hewn
beams
sunk
deep
into
the
ice
and
frozen
in
place
.
Back
and
forth
it
switched
,
clawing
its
way
upward
as
crooked
as
a
bolt
of
lightning
.
The
black
brothers
assured
him
that
it
was
much
stronger
than
it
looked
,
but
Tyrion
's
legs
were
cramping
too
badly
for
him
to
even
contemplate
the
ascent
.
He
went
instead
to
the
iron
cage
beside
the
well
,
clambered
inside
,
and
yanked
hard
on
the
bell
rope
,
three
quick
pulls
.
He
had
to
wait
what
seemed
an
eternity
,
standing
there
inside
the
bars
with
the
Wall
to
his
back
.
Long
enough
for
Tyrion
to
begin
to
wonder
why
he
was
doing
this
.
He
had
just
about
decided
to
forget
his
sudden
whim
and
go
to
bed
when
the
cage
gave
a
jerk
and
began
to
ascend
.
