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- Джордж Мартин
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- Игра престолов
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- Стр. 308/751
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If
not
him
,
then
someone
else
.
Yoren
would
carry
the
story
south
.
That
fool
singer
might
make
a
lay
of
it
.
The
Freys
would
report
back
to
their
lord
,
and
the
gods
only
knew
what
he
might
do
.
Lord
Walder
Frey
might
be
sworn
to
Riverrun
,
but
he
was
a
cautious
man
who
had
lived
a
long
time
by
making
certain
he
was
always
on
the
winning
side
.
At
the
very
least
he
would
send
his
birds
winging
south
to
King
's
Landing
,
and
he
might
well
dare
more
than
that
.
Catelyn
Stark
wasted
no
time
.
"
We
must
ride
at
once
.
We
'll
want
fresh
mounts
,
and
provisions
for
the
road
.
You
men
,
know
that
you
have
the
eternal
gratitude
of
House
Stark
.
If
any
of
you
choose
to
help
us
guard
our
captives
and
get
them
safe
to
Winterfell
,
I
promise
you
shall
be
well
rewarded
.
"
That
was
all
it
took
;
the
fools
came
rushing
forward
.
Tyrion
studied
their
faces
;
they
would
indeed
be
well
rewarded
,
he
vowed
to
himself
,
but
perhaps
not
quite
as
they
imagined
.
Yet
even
as
they
were
bundling
him
outside
,
saddling
the
horses
in
the
rain
,
and
tying
his
hands
with
a
length
of
coarse
rope
,
Tyrion
Lannister
was
not
truly
afraid
.
They
would
never
get
him
to
Winterfell
,
he
would
have
given
odds
on
that
.
Riders
would
be
after
them
within
the
day
,
birds
would
take
wing
,
and
surely
one
of
the
river
lords
would
want
to
curry
favor
with
his
father
enough
to
take
a
hand
.
Tyrion
was
congratulating
himself
on
his
subtlety
when
someone
pulled
a
hood
down
over
his
eyes
and
lifted
him
up
onto
a
saddle
.
They
set
out
through
the
rain
at
a
hard
gallop
,
and
before
long
Tyrion
's
thighs
were
cramped
and
aching
and
his
butt
throbbed
with
pain
.
Even
when
they
were
safely
away
from
the
inn
,
and
Catelyn
Stark
slowed
them
to
a
trot
,
it
was
a
miserable
pounding
journey
over
rough
ground
,
made
worse
by
his
blindness
.
Every
twist
and
turn
put
him
in
danger
of
falling
off
his
horse
.
The
hood
muffled
sound
,
so
he
could
not
make
out
what
was
being
said
around
him
,
and
the
rain
soaked
through
the
cloth
and
made
it
cling
to
his
face
,
until
even
breathing
was
a
struggle
.
The
rope
chafed
his
wrists
raw
and
seemed
to
grow
tighter
as
the
night
wore
on
.
I
was
about
to
settle
down
to
a
warm
fire
and
a
roast
fowl
,
and
that
wretched
singer
had
to
open
his
mouth
,
he
thought
mournfully
.
The
wretched
singer
had
come
along
with
them
.
"
There
is
a
great
song
to
be
made
from
this
,
and
I
'm
the
one
to
make
it
,
"
he
told
Catelyn
Stark
when
he
announced
his
intention
of
riding
with
them
to
see
how
the
"
splendid
adventure
"
turned
out
.
Tyrion
wondered
whether
the
boy
would
think
the
adventure
quite
so
splendid
once
the
Lannister
riders
caught
up
with
them
.
The
rain
had
finally
stopped
and
dawn
light
was
seeping
through
the
wet
cloth
over
his
eyes
when
Catelyn
Stark
gave
the
command
to
dismount
.
Rough
hands
pulled
him
down
from
his
horse
,
untied
his
wrists
,
and
yanked
the
hood
off
his
head
.
When
he
saw
the
narrow
stony
road
,
the
foothills
rising
high
and
wild
all
around
them
,
and
the
jagged
snowcapped
peaks
on
the
distant
horizon
,
all
the
hope
went
out
of
him
in
a
rush
.
"
This
is
the
high
road
,
"
he
gasped
,
looking
at
Lady
Stark
with
accusation
.
"
The
eastern
road
.
You
said
we
were
riding
for
Winterfell
!
"
Catelyn
Stark
favored
him
with
the
faintest
of
smiles
.
"
Often
and
loudly
,
"
she
agreed
.
"
No
doubt
your
friends
will
ride
that
way
when
they
come
after
us
.
I
wish
them
good
speed
.
"
Even
now
,
long
days
later
,
the
memory
filled
him
with
a
bitter
rage
.
All
his
life
Tyrion
had
prided
himself
on
his
cunning
,
the
only
gift
the
gods
had
seen
fit
to
give
him
,
and
yet
this
seven-times-damned
she-wolf
Catelyn
Stark
had
outwitted
him
at
every
turn
.
The
knowledge
was
more
galling
than
the
bare
fact
of
his
abduction
.
They
stopped
only
as
long
as
it
took
to
feed
and
water
the
horses
,
and
then
they
were
off
again
.
This
time
Tyrion
was
spared
the
hood
.
After
the
second
night
they
no
longer
bound
his
hands
,
and
once
they
had
gained
the
heights
they
scarcely
bothered
to
guard
him
at
all
.
It
seemed
they
did
not
fear
his
escape
.
And
why
should
they
?
Up
here
the
land
was
harsh
and
wild
,
and
the
high
road
little
more
than
a
stony
track
.
If
he
did
run
,
how
far
could
he
hope
to
go
,
alone
and
without
provisions
?
The
shadowcats
would
make
a
morsel
of
him
,
and
the
clans
that
dwelt
in
the
mountain
fastnesses
were
brigands
and
murderers
who
bowed
to
no
law
but
the
sword
.
Yet
still
the
Stark
woman
drove
them
forward
relentlessly
.
He
knew
where
they
were
bound
.
He
had
known
it
since
the
moment
they
pulled
off
his
hood
.
These
mountains
were
the
domain
of
House
Arryn
,
and
the
late
Hand
's
widow
was
a
Tully
,
Catelyn
Stark
's
sister
...
and
no
friend
to
the
Lannisters
.
