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- Джордж Мартин
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- Игра престолов
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- Стр. 367/751
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She
was
lying
there
,
holding
the
egg
,
when
she
felt
the
child
move
within
her
...
as
if
he
were
reaching
out
,
brother
to
brother
,
blood
to
blood
.
"
You
are
the
dragon
,
"
Dany
whispered
to
him
,
"
the
true
dragon
.
I
know
it
.
I
know
it
.
"
And
she
smiled
,
and
went
to
sleep
dreaming
of
home
.
A
light
snow
was
falling
.
Bran
could
feel
the
flakes
on
his
face
,
melting
as
they
touched
his
skin
like
the
gentlest
of
rains
.
He
sat
straight
atop
his
horse
,
watching
as
the
iron
portcullis
was
winched
upward
.
Try
as
he
might
to
keep
calm
,
his
heart
was
fluttering
in
his
chest
.
"
Are
you
ready
?
"
Robb
asked
.
Bran
nodded
,
trying
not
to
let
his
fear
show
.
He
had
not
been
outside
Winterfell
since
his
fall
,
but
he
was
determined
to
ride
out
as
proud
as
any
knight
.
"
Let
's
ride
,
then
.
"
Robb
put
his
heels
into
his
big
grey-and-white
gelding
,
and
the
horse
walked
under
the
portcullis
.
"
Go
,
"
Bran
whispered
to
his
own
horse
.
He
touched
her
neck
lightly
,
and
the
small
chestnut
filly
started
forward
.
Bran
had
named
her
Dancer
.
She
was
two
years
old
,
and
Joseth
said
she
was
smarter
than
any
horse
had
a
right
to
be
.
They
had
trained
her
special
,
to
respond
to
rein
and
voice
and
touch
.
Up
to
now
,
Bran
had
only
ridden
her
around
the
yard
.
At
first
Joseth
or
Hodor
would
lead
her
,
while
Bran
sat
strapped
to
her
back
in
the
oversize
saddle
the
Imp
had
drawn
up
for
him
,
but
for
the
past
fortnight
he
had
been
riding
her
on
his
own
,
trotting
her
round
and
round
,
and
growing
bolder
with
every
circuit
.
They
passed
beneath
the
gatehouse
,
over
the
drawbridge
,
through
the
outer
walls
.
Summer
and
Grey
Wind
came
loping
beside
them
,
sniffing
at
the
wind
.
Close
behind
came
Theon
Greyjoy
,
with
his
longbow
and
a
quiver
of
broadheads
;
he
had
a
mind
to
take
a
deer
,
he
had
told
them
.
He
was
followed
by
four
guardsmen
in
mailed
shirts
and
coifs
,
and
Joseth
,
a
stick-thin
stableman
whom
Robb
had
named
master
of
horse
while
Hullen
was
away
.
Maester
Luwin
brought
up
the
rear
,
riding
on
a
donkey
.
Bran
would
have
liked
it
better
if
he
and
Robb
had
gone
off
alone
,
just
the
two
of
them
,
but
Hal
Mollen
would
not
hear
of
it
,
and
Maester
Luwin
backed
him
.
If
Bran
fell
off
his
horse
or
injured
himself
,
the
maester
was
determined
to
be
with
him
.
Beyond
the
castle
lay
the
market
square
,
its
wooden
stalls
deserted
now
.
They
rode
down
the
muddy
streets
of
the
village
,
past
rows
of
small
neat
houses
of
log
and
undressed
stone
.
Less
than
one
in
five
were
occupied
,
thin
tendrils
of
woodsmoke
curling
up
from
their
chimneys
.
The
rest
would
fill
up
one
by
one
as
it
grew
colder
.
When
the
snow
fell
and
the
ice
winds
howled
down
out
of
the
north
,
Old
Nan
said
,
farmers
left
their
frozen
fields
and
distant
holdfasts
,
loaded
up
their
wagons
,
and
then
the
winter
town
came
alive
.
Bran
had
never
seen
it
happen
,
but
Maester
Luwin
said
the
day
was
looming
closer
.
The
end
of
the
long
summer
was
near
at
hand
.
Winter
is
coming
.
A
few
villagers
eyed
the
direwolves
anxiously
as
the
riders
went
past
,
and
one
man
dropped
the
wood
he
was
carrying
as
he
shrank
away
in
fear
,
but
most
of
the
townfolk
had
grown
used
to
the
sight
.
They
bent
the
knee
when
they
saw
the
boys
,
and
Robb
greeted
each
of
them
with
a
lordly
nod
.
