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- Джордж Мартин
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- Стр. 371/751
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"
Father
always
listened
to
his
counsel
,
"
Bran
reminded
his
brother
.
"
Mother
too
.
"
"
I
listen
to
him
,
"
Robb
insisted
.
"
I
listen
to
everyone
.
"
The
joy
Bran
had
felt
at
the
ride
was
gone
,
melted
away
like
the
snowflakes
on
his
face
.
Not
so
long
ago
,
the
thought
of
Robb
calling
the
banners
and
riding
off
to
war
would
have
filled
him
with
excitement
,
but
now
he
felt
only
dread
.
"
Can
we
go
back
now
?
"
he
asked
.
"
I
'm
cold
.
"
Robb
glanced
around
.
"
We
need
to
find
the
wolves
.
Can
you
stand
to
go
a
bit
longer
?
"
"
I
can
go
as
long
as
you
can
.
"
Maester
Luwin
had
warned
him
to
keep
the
ride
short
,
for
fear
of
saddle
sores
,
but
Bran
would
not
admit
to
weakness
in
front
of
his
brother
.
He
was
sick
of
the
way
everyone
was
always
fussing
over
him
and
asking
how
he
was
.
"
Let
's
hunt
down
the
hunters
,
then
,
"
Robb
said
.
Side
by
side
,
they
urged
their
mounts
off
the
kingsroad
and
struck
out
into
the
wolfswood
.
Theon
dropped
back
and
followed
well
behind
them
,
talking
and
joking
with
the
guardsmen
.
It
was
nice
under
the
trees
.
Bran
kept
Dancer
to
a
walk
,
holding
the
reins
lightly
and
looking
all
around
him
as
they
went
.
He
knew
this
wood
,
but
he
had
been
so
long
confined
to
Winterfell
that
he
felt
as
though
he
were
seeing
it
for
the
first
time
.
The
smells
filled
his
nostrils
;
the
sharp
fresh
tang
of
pine
needles
,
the
earthy
odor
of
wet
rotting
leaves
,
the
hints
of
animal
musk
and
distant
cooking
fires
.
He
caught
a
glimpse
of
a
black
squirrel
moving
through
the
snow-covered
branches
of
an
oak
,
and
paused
to
study
the
silvery
web
of
an
empress
spider
.
Theon
and
the
others
fell
farther
and
farther
behind
,
until
Bran
could
no
longer
hear
their
voices
.
From
ahead
came
the
faint
sound
of
rushing
waters
.
It
grew
louder
until
they
reached
the
stream
.
Tears
stung
his
eyes
.
"
Bran
?
"
Robb
asked
.
"
What
's
wrong
?
"
