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- Джордж Мартин
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- Игра престолов
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- Стр. 359/751
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"
Where
is
the
city
?
"
she
asked
as
they
passed
beneath
the
bronze
arch
.
There
were
no
buildings
to
be
seen
,
no
people
,
only
the
grass
and
the
road
,
lined
with
ancient
monuments
from
all
the
lands
the
Dothraki
had
sacked
over
the
centuries
.
"
Ahead
,
"
Ser
Jorah
answered
.
"
Under
the
mountain
.
"
Beyond
the
horse
gate
,
plundered
gods
and
stolen
heroes
loomed
to
either
side
of
them
.
The
forgotten
deities
of
dead
cities
brandished
their
broken
thunderbolts
at
the
sky
as
Dany
rode
her
silver
past
their
feet
.
Stone
kings
looked
down
on
her
from
their
thrones
,
their
faces
chipped
and
stained
,
even
their
names
lost
in
the
mists
of
time
.
Lithe
young
maidens
danced
on
marble
plinths
,
draped
only
in
flowers
,
or
poured
air
from
shattered
jars
.
Monsters
stood
in
the
grass
beside
the
road
;
black
iron
dragons
with
jewels
for
eyes
,
roaring
griffins
,
manticores
with
their
barbed
tails
poised
to
strike
,
and
other
beasts
she
could
not
name
.
Some
of
the
statues
were
so
lovely
they
took
her
breath
away
,
others
so
misshapen
and
terrible
that
Dany
could
scarcely
bear
to
look
at
them
.
Those
,
Ser
Jorah
said
,
had
likely
come
from
the
Shadow
Lands
beyond
Asshai
.
"
So
many
,
"
she
said
as
her
silver
stepped
slowly
onward
,
"
and
from
so
many
lands
.
"
Viserys
was
less
impressed
.
"
The
trash
of
dead
cities
,
"
he
sneered
.
He
was
careful
to
speak
in
the
Common
Tongue
,
which
few
Dothraki
could
understand
,
yet
even
so
Dany
found
herself
glancing
back
at
the
men
of
her
khas
,
to
make
certain
he
had
not
been
overheard
.
He
went
on
blithely
.
"
All
these
savages
know
how
to
do
is
steal
the
things
better
men
have
built
...
and
kill
.
"
He
laughed
.
"
They
do
know
how
to
kill
.
Otherwise
I
'd
have
no
use
for
them
at
all
.
"
"
They
are
my
people
now
,
"
Dany
said
.
"
You
should
not
call
them
savages
,
brother
.
"
"
The
dragon
speaks
as
he
likes
,
"
Viserys
said
...
in
the
Common
Tongue
.
He
glanced
over
his
shoulder
at
Aggo
and
Rakharo
,
riding
behind
them
,
and
favored
them
with
a
mocking
smile
.
"
See
,
the
savages
lack
the
wit
to
understand
the
speech
of
civilized
men
.
"
A
moss-eaten
stone
monolith
loomed
over
the
road
,
fifty
feet
tall
.
Viserys
gazed
at
it
with
boredom
in
his
eyes
.
"
How
long
must
we
linger
amidst
these
ruins
before
Drogo
gives
me
my
army
?
I
grow
tired
of
waiting
.
"
"
The
princess
must
be
presented
to
the
dosh
khaleen
...
"
"
The
crones
,
yes
,
"
her
brother
interrupted
,
"
and
there
's
to
be
some
mummer
's
show
of
a
prophecy
for
the
whelp
in
her
belly
,
you
told
me
.
What
is
that
to
me
?
I
'm
tired
of
eating
horsemeat
and
I
'm
sick
of
the
stink
of
these
savages
.
"
He
sniffed
at
the
wide
,
floppy
sleeve
of
his
tunic
,
where
it
was
his
custom
to
keep
a
sachet
.
It
could
not
have
helped
much
.
The
tunic
was
filthy
.
All
the
silk
and
heavy
wools
that
Viserys
had
worn
out
of
Pentos
were
stained
by
hard
travel
and
rotted
from
sweat
.
