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- Джордж Мартин
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- Игра престолов
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- Стр. 387/751
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Tyrion
shivered
.
Now
there
was
a
nasty
suspicion
.
Perhaps
the
direwolf
and
the
lion
were
not
the
only
beasts
in
the
woods
,
and
if
that
was
true
,
someone
was
using
him
as
a
catspaw
.
Tyrion
Lannister
hated
being
used
.
He
would
have
to
get
out
of
here
,
and
soon
.
His
chances
of
overpowering
Mord
were
small
to
none
,
and
no
one
was
about
to
smuggle
him
a
six-hundred-foot-long
rope
,
so
he
would
have
to
talk
himself
free
.
His
mouth
had
gotten
him
into
this
cell
;
it
could
damn
well
get
him
out
.
Tyrion
pushed
himself
to
his
feet
,
doing
his
best
to
ignore
the
slope
of
the
floor
beneath
him
,
with
its
ever-so-subtle
tug
toward
the
edge
.
He
hammered
on
the
door
with
a
fist
.
"
Mord
!
"
he
shouted
.
"
Turnkey
!
Mord
,
I
want
you
!
"
He
had
to
keep
it
up
a
good
ten
minutes
before
he
heard
footsteps
.
Tyrion
stepped
back
an
instant
before
the
door
opened
with
a
crash
.
"
Making
noise
,
"
Mord
growled
,
with
blood
in
his
eyes
.
Dangling
from
one
meaty
hand
was
a
leather
strap
,
wide
and
thick
,
doubled
over
in
his
fist
.
Never
show
them
you
're
afraid
,
Tyrion
reminded
himself
.
"
How
would
you
like
to
be
rich
?
"
he
asked
.
Mord
hit
him
.
He
swung
the
strap
backhand
,
lazily
,
but
the
leather
caught
Tyrion
high
on
the
arm
.
The
force
of
it
staggered
him
,
and
the
pain
made
him
grit
his
teeth
.
"
No
mouth
,
dwarf
man
,
"
Mord
warned
him
.
"
Gold
,
"
Tyrion
said
,
miming
a
smile
.
"
Casterly
Rock
is
full
of
gold
...
ahhhh
...
"
This
time
the
blow
was
a
forehand
,
and
Mord
put
more
of
his
arm
into
the
swing
,
making
the
leather
crack
and
jump
.
It
caught
Tyrion
in
the
ribs
and
dropped
him
to
his
knees
,
wimpering
.
He
forced
himself
to
look
up
at
the
gaoler
.
"
As
rich
as
the
Lannisters
,
"
he
wheezed
.
"
That
's
what
they
say
,
Mord
--
"
Mord
grunted
.
The
strap
whistled
through
the
air
and
smashed
Tyrion
full
in
the
face
.
The
pain
was
so
bad
he
did
not
remember
falling
,
but
when
he
opened
his
eyes
again
he
was
on
the
floor
of
his
cell
.
His
ear
was
ringing
,
and
his
mouth
was
full
of
blood
.
He
groped
for
purchase
,
to
push
himself
up
,
and
his
fingers
brushed
against
...
nothing
.
Tyrion
snatched
his
hand
back
as
fast
as
if
it
had
been
scalded
,
and
tried
his
best
to
stop
breathing
.
He
had
fallen
right
on
the
edge
,
inches
from
the
blue
.
