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- Джордж Мартин
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- Стр. 410/751
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They
knelt
in
the
grass
beneath
the
weeping
woman
,
facing
each
other
,
with
Lannister
between
them
.
The
septon
removed
a
faceted
crystal
sphere
from
the
soft
cloth
bag
at
his
waist
.
He
lifted
it
high
above
his
head
,
and
the
light
shattered
.
Rainbows
danced
across
the
Imp
's
face
.
In
a
high
,
solemn
,
singsong
voice
,
the
septon
asked
the
gods
to
look
down
and
bear
witness
,
to
find
the
truth
in
this
man
's
soul
,
to
grant
him
life
and
freedom
if
he
was
innocent
,
death
if
he
was
guilty
.
His
voice
echoed
off
the
surrounding
towers
.
When
the
last
echo
had
died
away
,
the
septon
lowered
his
crystal
and
made
a
hasty
departure
.
Tyrion
leaned
over
and
whispered
something
in
Bronn
's
ear
before
the
guardsmen
led
him
away
.
The
sellsword
rose
laughing
and
brushed
a
blade
of
grass
from
his
knee
.
Robert
Arryn
,
Lord
of
the
Eyrie
and
Defender
of
the
Vale
,
was
fidgeting
impatiently
in
his
elevated
chair
.
"
When
are
they
going
to
fight
?
"
he
asked
plaintively
.
Ser
Vardis
was
helped
back
to
his
feet
by
one
of
his
squires
.
The
other
brought
him
a
triangular
shield
almost
four
feet
tall
,
heavy
oak
dotted
with
iron
studs
.
They
strapped
it
to
his
left
forearm
.
When
Lysa
's
master-at-arms
offered
Bronn
a
similar
shield
,
the
sellsword
spat
and
waved
it
away
.
Three
days
growth
of
coarse
black
beard
covered
his
jaw
and
cheeks
,
but
if
he
did
not
shave
it
was
not
for
want
of
a
razor
;
the
edge
of
his
sword
had
the
dangerous
glimmer
of
steel
that
had
been
honed
every
day
for
hours
,
until
it
was
too
sharp
to
touch
.
Ser
Vardis
held
out
a
gauntleted
hand
,
and
his
squire
placed
a
handsome
double-edged
longsword
in
his
grasp
.
The
blade
was
engraved
with
a
delicate
silver
tracery
of
a
mountain
sky
;
its
pommel
was
a
falcon
's
head
,
its
crossguard
fashioned
into
the
shape
of
wings
.
"
I
had
that
sword
crafted
for
Jon
in
King
's
Landing
,
"
Lysa
told
her
guests
proudly
as
they
watched
Ser
Vardis
try
a
practice
cut
.
"
He
wore
it
whenever
he
sat
the
Iron
Throne
in
King
Robert
's
place
.
Is
n't
it
a
lovely
thing
?
I
thought
it
only
fitting
that
our
champion
avenge
Jon
with
his
own
blade
.
"
The
engraved
silver
blade
was
beautiful
beyond
a
doubt
,
but
it
seemed
to
Catelyn
that
Ser
Vardis
might
have
been
more
comfortable
with
his
own
sword
.
Yet
she
said
nothing
;
she
was
weary
of
futile
arguments
with
her
sister
.
"
Make
them
fight
!
"
Lord
Robert
called
out
.
Ser
Vardis
faced
the
Lord
of
the
Eyrie
and
lifted
his
sword
in
salute
.
"
For
the
Eyrie
and
the
Vale
!
"
Tyrion
Lannister
had
been
seated
on
a
balcony
across
the
garden
,
flanked
by
his
guards
.
It
was
to
him
that
Bronn
turned
with
a
cursory
salute
.
