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- Стр. 390/751
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Mord
did
not
dare
grumble
.
He
gave
Tyrion
a
glare
that
promised
future
retribution
,
yet
he
went
for
the
cloak
.
When
he
draped
it
around
his
prisoner
's
neck
,
Tyrion
smiled
.
"
My
thanks
.
I
shall
think
of
you
whenever
I
wear
it
.
"
He
flung
the
trailing
end
of
the
long
fur
over
his
right
shoulder
,
and
felt
warm
for
the
first
time
in
days
.
"
Lead
on
,
Ser
Vardis
.
"
The
High
Hall
of
the
Arryns
was
aglow
with
the
light
of
fifty
torches
,
burning
in
the
sconces
along
the
walls
.
The
Lady
Lysa
wore
black
silk
,
with
the
moon-and-falcon
sewn
on
her
breast
in
pearls
.
Since
she
did
not
look
the
sort
to
join
the
Night
's
Watch
,
Tyrion
could
only
imagine
that
she
had
decided
mourning
clothes
were
appropriate
garb
for
a
confession
.
Her
long
auburn
hair
,
woven
into
an
elaborate
braid
,
fell
across
her
left
shoulder
.
The
taller
throne
beside
her
was
empty
;
no
doubt
the
little
Lord
of
the
Eyrie
was
off
shaking
in
his
sleep
.
Tyrion
was
thankful
for
that
much
,
at
least
.
He
bowed
deeply
and
took
a
moment
to
glance
around
the
hall
.
Lady
Arryn
had
summoned
her
knights
and
retainers
to
hear
his
confession
,
as
he
had
hoped
.
He
saw
Ser
Brynden
Tully
's
craggy
face
and
Lord
Nestor
Royce
's
bluff
one
.
Beside
Nestor
stood
a
younger
man
with
fierce
black
side-whiskers
who
could
only
be
his
heir
,
Ser
Albar
.
Most
of
the
principal
houses
of
the
Vale
were
represented
.
Tyrion
noted
Ser
Lyn
Corbray
,
slender
as
a
sword
,
Lord
Hunter
with
his
gouty
legs
,
the
widowed
Lady
Waynwood
surrounded
by
her
sons
.
Others
sported
sigils
he
did
not
know
;
broken
lance
,
green
viper
,
burning
tower
,
winged
chalice
.
Among
the
lords
of
the
Vale
were
several
of
his
companions
from
the
high
road
;
Ser
Rodrik
Cassel
,
pale
from
half-healed
wounds
,
stood
with
Ser
Willis
Wode
beside
him
.
Marillion
the
singer
had
found
a
new
woodharp
.
Tyrion
smiled
;
whatever
happened
here
tonight
,
he
did
not
wish
it
to
happen
in
secret
,
and
there
was
no
one
like
a
singer
for
spreading
a
story
near
and
far
.
In
the
rear
of
the
hall
,
Bronn
lounged
beneath
a
pillar
.
The
freerider
's
black
eyes
were
fixed
on
Tyrion
,
and
his
hand
lay
lightly
on
the
pommel
of
his
sword
.
Tyrion
gave
him
a
long
look
,
wondering
...
Catelyn
Stark
spoke
first
.
"
You
wish
to
confess
your
crimes
,
we
are
told
.
"
"
I
do
,
my
lady
,
"
Tyrion
answered
.
Lysa
Arryn
smiled
at
her
sister
.
"
The
sky
cells
always
break
them
.
The
gods
can
see
them
there
,
and
there
is
no
darkness
to
hide
in
.
"
