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- Джордж Мартин
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- Игра престолов
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- Стр. 272/751
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My
lady
,
you
ought
cover
your
head
,
"
Ser
Rodrik
told
her
as
their
horses
plodded
north
.
"
You
will
take
a
chill
.
"
"
It
is
only
water
,
Ser
Rodrik
,
"
Catelyn
replied
.
Her
hair
hung
wet
and
heavy
,
a
loose
strand
stuck
to
her
forehead
,
and
she
could
imagine
how
ragged
and
wild
she
must
look
,
but
for
once
she
did
not
care
.
The
southern
rain
was
soft
and
warm
.
Catelyn
liked
the
feel
of
it
on
her
face
,
gentle
as
a
mother
's
kisses
.
It
took
her
back
to
her
childhood
,
to
long
grey
days
at
Riverrun
.
She
remembered
the
godswood
,
drooping
branches
heavy
with
moisture
,
and
the
sound
of
her
brother
's
laughter
as
he
chased
her
through
piles
of
damp
leaves
.
She
remembered
making
mud
pies
with
Lysa
,
the
weight
of
them
,
the
mud
slick
and
brown
between
her
fingers
.
They
had
served
them
to
Littlefinger
,
giggling
,
and
he
'd
eaten
so
much
mud
he
was
sick
for
a
week
.
How
young
they
all
had
been
.
Catelyn
had
almost
forgotten
.
In
the
north
,
the
rain
fell
cold
and
hard
,
and
sometimes
at
night
it
turned
to
ice
.
It
was
as
likely
to
kill
a
crop
as
nurture
it
,
and
it
sent
grown
men
running
for
the
nearest
shelter
.
That
was
no
rain
for
little
girls
to
play
in
.
"
I
am
soaked
through
,
"
Ser
Rodrik
complained
.
"
Even
my
bones
are
wet
.
"
The
woods
pressed
close
around
them
,
and
the
steady
pattering
of
rain
on
leaves
was
accompanied
by
the
small
sucking
sounds
their
horses
made
as
their
hooves
pulled
free
of
the
mud
.
"
We
will
want
a
fire
tonight
,
my
lady
,
and
a
hot
meal
would
serve
us
both
.
"
"
There
is
an
inn
at
the
crossroads
up
ahead
,
"
Catelyn
told
him
.
She
had
slept
many
a
night
there
in
her
youth
,
traveling
with
her
father
.
Lord
Hoster
Tully
had
been
a
restless
man
in
his
prime
,
always
riding
somewhere
.
She
still
remembered
the
innkeep
,
a
fat
woman
named
Masha
Heddle
who
chewed
sourleaf
night
and
day
and
seemed
to
have
an
endless
supply
of
smiles
and
sweet
cakes
for
the
children
.
The
sweet
cakes
had
been
soaked
with
honey
,
rich
and
heavy
on
the
tongue
,
but
how
Catelyn
had
dreaded
those
smiles
.
The
sourleaf
had
stained
Masha
's
teeth
a
dark
red
,
and
made
her
smile
a
bloody
horror
.
"
An
inn
,
"
Ser
Rodrik
repeated
wistfully
.
"
If
only
...
but
we
dare
not
risk
it
.
If
we
wish
to
remain
unknown
,
I
think
it
best
we
seek
out
some
small
holdfast
...
"
He
broke
off
as
they
heard
sounds
up
the
road
;
splashing
water
,
the
clink
of
mail
,
a
horse
's
whinny
.
"
Riders
,
"
he
warned
,
his
hand
dropping
to
the
hilt
of
his
sword
.
Even
on
the
kingsroad
,
it
never
hurt
to
be
wary
.
They
followed
the
sounds
around
a
lazy
bend
of
the
road
and
saw
them
;
a
column
of
armed
men
noisily
fording
a
swollen
stream
.
Catelyn
reined
up
to
let
them
pass
.
The
banner
in
the
hand
of
the
foremost
rider
hung
sodden
and
limp
,
but
the
guardsmen
wore
indigo
cloaks
and
on
their
shoulders
flew
the
silver
eagle
of
Seagard
.
"
Mallisters
,
"
Ser
Rodrik
whispered
to
her
,
as
if
she
had
not
known
.
"
My
lady
,
best
pull
up
your
hood
.
"
Catelyn
made
no
move
.
Lord
Jason
Mallister
himself
rode
with
them
,
surrounded
by
his
knights
,
his
son
Patrek
by
his
side
and
their
squires
close
behind
.
They
were
riding
for
King
's
Landing
and
the
Hand
's
tourney
,
she
knew
.
For
the
past
week
,
the
travelers
had
been
thick
as
flies
upon
the
kingsroad
;
knights
and
freeriders
,
singers
with
their
harps
and
drums
,
heavy
wagons
laden
with
hops
or
corn
or
casks
of
honey
,
traders
and
craftsmen
and
whores
,
and
all
of
them
moving
south
.
