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- Джордж Мартин
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- Игра престолов
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- Стр. 221/751
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Even
the
nights
brought
no
relief
.
Khal
Drogo
ignored
her
when
they
rode
,
even
as
he
had
ignored
her
during
their
wedding
,
and
spent
his
evenings
drinking
with
his
warriors
and
bloodriders
,
racing
his
prize
horses
,
watching
women
dance
and
men
die
.
Dany
had
no
place
in
these
parts
of
his
life
.
She
was
left
to
sup
alone
,
or
with
Ser
Jorah
and
her
brother
,
and
afterward
to
cry
herself
to
sleep
.
Yet
every
night
,
some
time
before
the
dawn
,
Drogo
would
come
to
her
tent
and
wake
her
in
the
dark
,
to
ride
her
as
relentlessly
as
he
rode
his
stallion
.
He
always
took
her
from
behind
,
Dothraki
fashion
,
for
which
Dany
was
grateful
;
that
way
her
lord
husband
could
not
see
the
tears
that
wet
her
face
,
and
she
could
use
her
pillow
to
muffle
her
cries
of
pain
.
When
he
was
done
,
he
would
close
his
eyes
and
begin
to
snore
softly
and
Dany
would
lie
beside
him
,
her
body
bruised
and
sore
,
hurting
too
much
for
sleep
.
Day
followed
day
,
and
night
followed
night
,
until
Dany
knew
she
could
not
endure
a
moment
longer
.
She
would
kill
herself
rather
than
go
on
,
she
decided
one
night
...
Yet
when
she
slept
that
night
,
she
dreamt
the
dragon
dream
again
.
Viserys
was
not
in
it
this
time
.
There
was
only
her
and
the
dragon
.
Its
scales
were
black
as
night
,
wet
and
slick
with
blood
.
Her
blood
,
Dany
sensed
.
Its
eyes
were
pools
of
molten
magma
,
and
when
it
opened
its
mouth
,
the
flame
came
roaring
out
in
a
hot
jet
.
She
could
hear
it
singing
to
her
,
She
opened
her
arms
to
the
fire
,
embraced
it
,
let
it
swallow
her
whole
,
let
it
cleanse
her
and
temper
her
and
scour
her
clean
.
She
could
feel
her
flesh
sear
and
blacken
and
slough
away
,
could
feel
her
blood
boil
and
turn
to
steam
,
and
yet
there
was
no
pain
.
She
felt
strong
and
new
and
fierce
.
And
the
next
day
,
strangely
,
she
did
not
seem
to
hurt
quite
so
much
.
It
was
as
if
the
gods
had
heard
her
and
taken
pity
.
Even
her
handmaids
noticed
the
change
.
"
Khaleesi
,
"
Jhiqui
said
,
"
what
is
wrong
?
Are
you
sick
?
"
"
I
was
,
"
she
answered
,
standing
over
the
dragon
's
eggs
that
Illyrio
had
given
her
when
she
wed.
.
She
touched
one
,
the
largest
of
the
three
,
running
her
hand
lightly
over
the
shelf
.
Black-and-scarlet
,
she
thought
,
like
the
dragon
in
my
dream
.
The
stone
felt
strangely
warm
beneath
her
fingers
...
or
was
she
still
dreaming
?
She
pulled
her
hand
back
nervously
.
From
that
hour
onward
,
each
day
was
easier
than
the
one
before
it
.
Her
legs
grew
stronger
;
her
blisters
burst
and
her
hands
grew
callused
;
her
soft
thighs
toughened
,
supple
as
leather
.
The
khal
had
commanded
the
handmaid
Irri
to
teach
Dany
to
ride
in
the
Dothraki
fashion
,
but
it
was
the
filly
who
was
her
real
teacher
.
The
horse
seemed
to
know
her
moods
,
as
if
they
shared
a
single
mind
.
With
every
passing
day
,
Dany
felt
surer
in
her
seat
.
The
Dothraki
were
a
hard
and
unsentimental
people
,
and
it
was
not
their
custom
to
name
their
animals
,
so
Dany
thought
of
her
only
as
the
silver
.
She
had
never
loved
anything
so
much
.
As
the
riding
became
less
an
ordeal
,
Dany
began
to
notice
the
beauties
of
the
land
around
her
.
She
rode
at
the
head
of
the
khalasar
with
Drogo
and
his
bloodriders
,
so
she
came
to
each
country
fresh
and
unspoiled
.
Behind
them
the
great
horde
might
tear
the
earth
and
muddy
the
rivers
and
send
up
clouds
of
choking
dust
,
but
the
fields
ahead
of
them
were
always
green
and
verdant
.
They
crossed
the
rolling
hills
of
Norvos
,
past
terraced
farms
and
small
villages
where
the
townsfolk
watched
anxiously
from
atop
white
stucco
walls
.
They
forded
three
wide
placid
rivers
and
a
fourth
that
was
swift
and
narrow
and
treacherous
,
camped
beside
a
high
blue
waterfall
,
skirted
the
tumbled
ruins
of
a
vast
dead
city
where
ghosts
were
said
to
moan
among
blackened
marble
columns
.
They
raced
down
Valyrian
roads
a
thousand
years
old
and
straight
as
a
Dothraki
arrow
.
For
half
a
moon
,
they
rode
through
the
Forest
of
Qohor
,
where
the
leaves
made
a
golden
canopy
high
above
them
,
and
the
trunks
of
the
trees
were
as
wide
as
city
gates
.
