-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Джордж Мартин
-
- Игра престолов
-
- Стр. 394/751
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
Oh
,
excellent
,
Tyrion
thought
.
"
I
agree
.
"
Lysa
glared
at
him
.
"
You
demanded
a
trial
by
combat
.
"
"
And
now
I
demand
a
champion
,
such
as
you
have
chosen
for
yourself
.
My
brother
Jaime
will
gladly
take
my
part
,
I
know
.
"
"
Your
precious
Kingslayer
is
hundreds
of
leagues
from
here
,
"
snapped
Lysa
Arryn
.
"
Send
a
bird
for
him
.
I
will
gladly
await
his
arrival
.
"
"
You
will
face
Ser
Vardis
on
the
morrow
.
"
"
Singer
,
"
Tyrion
said
,
turning
to
Marillion
,
"
when
you
make
a
ballad
of
this
,
be
certain
you
tell
them
how
Lady
Arryn
denied
the
dwarf
the
right
to
a
champion
,
and
sent
him
forth
lame
and
bruised
and
hobbling
to
face
her
finest
knight
.
"
"
I
deny
you
nothing
!
"
Lysa
Arryn
said
,
her
voice
peeved
and
shrill
with
irritation
.
"
Name
your
champion
,
Imp
...
if
you
think
you
can
find
a
man
to
die
for
you
"
"
If
it
is
all
the
same
to
you
,
I
'd
sooner
find
one
to
kill
for
me
.
"
Tyrion
looked
over
the
long
hall
.
No
one
moved
.
For
a
long
moment
he
wondered
if
it
had
all
been
a
colossal
blunder
.
Then
there
was
a
stirring
in
the
rear
of
the
chamber
.
"
I
'll
stand
for
the
dwarf
,
"
Bronn
called
out
.
