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- Джордж Мартин
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"
The
realm
prospers
from
such
events
,
my
lord
,
"
Grand
Maester
Pycelle
said
.
"
They
bring
the
great
the
chance
of
glory
,
and
the
lowly
a
respite
from
their
woes
.
"
"
And
put
coins
in
many
a
pocket
,
"
Littlefinger
added
.
"
Every
inn
in
the
city
is
full
,
and
the
whores
are
walking
bowlegged
and
jingling
with
each
step
.
"
Lord
Renly
laughed
.
"
We
're
fortunate
my
brother
Stannis
is
not
with
us
.
Remember
the
time
he
proposed
to
outlaw
brothels
?
The
king
asked
him
if
perhaps
he
'd
like
to
outlaw
eating
,
shitting
,
and
breathing
while
he
was
at
it
.
If
truth
be
told
,
I
ofttimes
wonder
how
Stannis
ever
got
that
ugly
daughter
of
his
.
He
goes
to
his
marriage
bed
like
a
man
marching
to
a
battlefield
,
with
a
grim
look
in
his
eyes
and
a
determination
to
do
his
duty
.
"
Ned
had
not
joined
the
laughter
.
"
I
wonder
about
your
brother
Stannis
as
well
.
I
wonder
when
he
intends
to
end
his
visit
to
Dragonstone
and
resume
his
seat
on
this
council
.
"
"
No
doubt
as
soon
as
we
've
scourged
all
those
whores
into
the
sea
,
"
Littlefinger
replied
,
provoking
more
laughter
.
"
I
have
heard
quite
enough
about
whores
for
one
day
,
"
Ned
said
,
rising
.
"
Until
the
morrow
.
"
Harwin
had
the
door
when
Ned
returned
to
the
Tower
of
the
Hand
.
"
Summon
Jory
to
my
chambers
and
tell
your
father
to
saddle
my
horse
,
"
Ned
told
him
,
too
brusquely
.
"
As
you
say
,
my
lord
.
"
The
Red
Keep
and
the
"
Hand
's
tourney
"
were
chafing
him
raw
,
Ned
reflected
as
he
climbed
.
He
yearned
for
the
comfort
of
Catelyn
's
arms
,
for
the
sounds
of
Robb
and
Jon
crossing
swords
in
the
practice
yard
,
for
the
cool
days
and
cold
nights
of
the
north
.
