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- Джордж Мартин
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"
Describe
him
.
"
"
He
was
stout
,
round
of
shoulder
,
not
so
tall
as
you
.
Brown
beard
,
but
there
was
a
bit
of
red
in
it
,
I
'll
swear
.
He
wore
a
rich
cloak
,
that
I
do
remember
,
heavy
purple
velvet
worked
with
silver
threads
,
but
the
hood
shadowed
his
face
and
I
never
did
see
him
clear
.
"
He
hesitated
a
moment
.
"
My
lord
,
I
want
no
trouble
.
"
"
None
of
us
wants
trouble
,
but
I
fear
these
are
troubled
times
,
Master
Mott
,
"
Ned
said
.
"
You
know
who
the
boy
is
.
"
"
I
am
only
an
armorer
,
my
lord
.
I
know
what
I
'm
told
.
"
"
You
know
who
the
boy
is
,
"
Ned
repeated
patiently
.
"
That
is
not
a
question
.
"
"
The
boy
is
my
apprentice
,
"
the
master
said
.
He
looked
Ned
in
the
eye
,
stubborn
as
old
iron
.
"
Who
he
was
before
he
came
to
me
,
that
's
none
of
my
concern
.
"
Ned
nodded
He
decided
that
he
liked
Tobho
Mott
,
master
armorer
.
"
If
the
day
ever
comes
when
Gendry
would
rather
wield
a
sword
than
forge
one
,
send
him
to
me
.
He
has
the
look
of
a
warrior
.
Until
then
,
you
have
my
thanks
,
Master
Mott
,
and
my
promise
.
Should
I
ever
want
a
helm
to
frighten
children
,
this
will
be
the
first
place
I
visit
.
"
His
guard
was
waiting
outside
with
the
horses
.
"
Did
you
find
anything
,
my
lord
?
"
Jacks
asked
as
Ned
mounted
up
.
"
I
did
,
"
Ned
told
him
,
wondering
.
What
had
Jon
Arryn
wanted
with
a
king
's
bastard
,
and
why
was
it
worth
his
life
?
