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- Джордж Мартин
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Robb
hesitated
a
moment
.
Then
,
slowly
and
deliberately
,
he
dismounted
and
stood
with
his
sword
in
hand
.
"
Now
kill
the
wolves
.
"
Robb
did
not
move
.
"
You
do
it
.
The
wolves
or
the
boy
.
"
"
No
!
"
Bran
screamed
.
If
Robb
did
as
they
asked
,
Stiv
would
kill
them
both
anyway
,
once
the
direwolves
were
dead
.
The
bald
man
took
hold
of
his
hair
with
his
free
hand
and
twisted
it
cruelly
,
till
Bran
sobbed
in
pain
.
"
You
shut
your
mouth
,
cripple
,
you
hear
me
?
"
He
twisted
harder
.
"
You
hear
me
?
"
A
low
thrum
came
from
the
woods
behind
them
.
Stiv
gave
a
choked
gasp
as
a
half
foot
of
razor-tipped
broadhead
suddenly
exploded
out
of
his
chest
.
The
arrow
was
bright
red
,
as
if
it
had
been
painted
in
blood
.
The
dagger
fell
away
from
Bran
's
throat
.
The
big
man
swayed
and
collapsed
,
facedown
in
the
stream
.
The
arrow
broke
beneath
him
.
Bran
watched
his
life
go
swirling
off
in
the
water
.
Osha
glanced
around
as
Father
's
guardsmen
appeared
from
beneath
the
trees
,
steel
in
hand
.
She
threw
down
her
spear
.
"
Mercy
,
m
'
lord
,
"
she
called
to
Robb
.
The
guardsmen
had
a
strange
,
pale
look
to
their
faces
as
they
took
in
the
scene
of
slaughter
.
They
eyed
the
wolves
uncertainly
,
and
when
Summer
returned
to
Hali
's
corpse
to
feed
,
Joseth
dropped
his
knife
and
scrambled
for
the
bush
,
heaving
.
Even
Maester
Luwin
seemed
shocked
as
he
stepped
from
behind
a
tree
,
but
only
for
an
instant
.
Then
he
shook
his
head
and
waded
across
the
stream
to
Bran
's
side
.
"
Are
you
hurt
?
"
