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- Джордж Мартин
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- Игра престолов
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- Стр. 276/751
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Ser
Rodrik
tried
to
tug
at
whiskers
that
were
not
there
,
but
before
he
could
frame
a
rebuke
the
serving
boy
came
scurrying
up
.
He
laid
trenchers
of
bread
before
them
and
filled
them
with
chunks
of
browned
meat
off
a
skewer
,
dripping
with
hot
juice
.
Another
skewer
held
tiny
onions
,
fire
peppers
,
and
fat
mushrooms
.
Ser
Rodrik
set
to
lustily
as
the
lad
ran
back
to
fetch
them
beer
.
"
My
name
is
Marillion
,
"
the
singer
said
,
plucking
a
string
on
his
woodharp
.
"
Doubtless
you
've
heard
me
play
somewhere
?
"
His
manner
made
Catelyn
smile
.
Few
wandering
singers
ever
ventured
as
far
north
as
Winterfell
,
but
she
knew
his
like
from
her
girlhood
in
Riverrun
.
"
I
fear
not
,
"
she
told
him
.
He
drew
a
plaintive
chord
from
the
woodharp
.
"
That
is
your
loss
,
"
he
said
.
"
Who
was
the
finest
singer
you
've
ever
heard
?
"
"
Alia
of
Braavos
,
"
Ser
Rodrik
answered
at
once
.
"
Oh
,
I
'm
much
better
than
that
old
stick
,
"
Marillion
said
.
"
If
you
have
the
silver
for
a
song
,
I
'll
gladly
show
you
.
"
"
I
might
have
a
copper
or
two
,
but
I
'd
sooner
toss
it
down
a
well
than
pay
for
your
howling
,
"
Ser
Rodrik
groused
.
His
opinion
of
singers
was
well
known
;
music
was
a
lovely
thing
for
girls
,
but
he
could
not
comprehend
why
any
healthy
boy
would
fill
his
hand
with
a
harp
when
he
might
have
had
a
sword
.
"
Your
grandfather
has
a
sour
nature
,
"
Marillion
said
to
Catelyn
.
"
I
meant
to
do
you
honor
.
An
homage
to
your
beauty
.
In
truth
,
I
was
made
to
sing
for
kings
and
high
lords
.
"
"
Oh
,
I
can
see
that
,
"
Catelyn
said
.
"
Lord
Tully
is
fond
of
song
,
I
hear
.
No
doubt
you
've
been
to
Riverrun
.
"
"
A
hundred
times
,
"
the
singer
said
airily
.
"
They
keep
a
chamber
for
me
,
and
the
young
lord
is
like
a
brother
.
"
