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- Джордж Мартин
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"
No
more
than
a
scratch
,
"
the
maester
said
.
He
wet
a
cloth
in
the
stream
to
clean
the
cut
.
"
Two
of
them
wear
the
black
,
"
he
told
Robb
as
he
worked
.
Robb
glanced
over
at
where
Stiv
lay
sprawled
in
the
stream
,
his
ragged
black
cloak
moving
fitfully
as
the
rushing
waters
tugged
at
it
.
"
Deserters
from
the
Night
's
Watch
,
"
he
said
grimly
.
"
They
must
have
been
fools
,
to
come
so
close
to
Winterfell
.
"
"
Folly
and
desperation
are
ofttimes
hard
to
tell
apart
,
"
said
Maester
Luwin
.
"
Shall
we
bury
them
,
m
'
lord
?
"
asked
Quent
.
"
They
would
not
have
buried
us
,
"
Robb
said
.
"
Hack
off
their
heads
,
we
'll
send
them
back
to
the
Wall
.
Leave
the
rest
for
the
carrion
crows
.
"
"
And
this
one
?
"
Quent
jerked
a
thumb
toward
Osha
.
Robb
walked
over
to
her
.
She
was
a
head
taller
than
he
was
,
but
she
dropped
to
her
knees
at
his
approach
.
"
Give
me
my
life
,
m
'
lord
of
Stark
,
and
I
am
yours
.
"
"
Mine
?
What
would
I
do
with
an
oathbreaker
?
"
"
I
broke
no
oaths
.
Stiv
and
Wallen
flew
down
off
the
Wall
,
not
me
.
The
black
crows
got
no
place
for
women
.
"
Theon
Greyjoy
sauntered
closer
.
"
Give
her
to
the
wolves
,
"
he
urged
Robb
.
The
woman
's
eyes
went
to
what
was
left
of
Hali
,
and
just
as
quickly
away
.
She
shuddered
.
Even
the
guardsmen
looked
queasy
.
