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- Джордж Мартин
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- Игра престолов
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- Стр. 411/751
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"
They
await
your
command
,
"
Lady
Lysa
said
to
her
lord
son
.
"
Fight
!
"
the
boy
screamed
,
his
arms
trembling
as
they
clutched
at
his
chair
.
Ser
Vardis
swiveled
,
bringing
up
his
heavy
shield
.
Bronn
turned
to
face
him
.
Their
swords
rang
together
,
once
,
twice
,
a
testing
.
The
sellsword
backed
off
a
step
.
The
knight
came
after
,
holding
his
shield
before
him
.
He
tried
a
slash
,
but
Bronn
jerked
back
,
just
out
of
reach
,
and
the
silver
blade
cut
only
air
.
Bronn
circled
to
his
right
.
Ser
Vardis
turned
to
follow
,
keeping
his
shield
between
them
.
The
knight
pressed
forward
,
placing
each
foot
carefully
on
the
uneven
ground
.
The
sellsword
gave
way
,
a
faint
smile
playing
over
his
lips
.
Ser
Vardis
attacked
,
slashing
,
but
Bronn
leapt
away
from
him
,
hopping
lightly
over
a
low
,
moss-covered
stone
.
Now
the
sellsword
circled
left
,
away
from
the
shield
,
toward
the
knight
's
unprotected
side
.
Ser
Vardis
tried
a
hack
at
his
legs
,
but
he
did
not
have
the
reach
.
Bronn
danced
farther
to
his
left
.
Ser
Vardis
turned
in
place
.
"
The
man
is
craven
,
"
Lord
Hunter
declared
.
"
Stand
and
fight
,
coward
!
"
Other
voices
echoed
the
sentiment
.
Catelyn
looked
to
Ser
Rodrik
.
Her
master-at-arms
gave
a
curt
shake
of
his
head
.
"
He
wants
to
make
Ser
Vardis
chase
him
.
The
weight
of
armor
and
shield
will
tire
even
the
strongest
man
.
"
She
had
seen
men
practice
at
their
swordplay
near
every
day
of
her
life
,
had
viewed
half
a
hundred
tourneys
in
her
time
,
but
this
was
something
different
and
deadlier
:
a
dance
where
the
smallest
misstep
meant
death
.
And
as
she
watched
,
the
memory
of
another
duel
in
another
time
came
back
to
Catelyn
Stark
,
as
vivid
as
if
it
had
been
yesterday
.
They
met
in
the
lower
bailey
of
Riverrun
.
When
Brandon
saw
that
Petyr
wore
only
helm
and
breastplate
and
mail
,
he
took
off
most
of
his
armor
.
Petyr
had
begged
her
for
a
favor
he
might
wear
,
but
she
had
turned
him
away
.
Her
lord
father
promised
her
to
Brandon
Stark
,
and
so
it
was
to
him
that
she
gave
her
token
,
a
pale
blue
handscarf
she
had
embroidered
with
the
leaping
trout
of
Riverrun
.
As
she
pressed
it
into
his
hand
,
she
pleaded
with
him
.
"
He
is
only
a
foolish
boy
,
but
I
have
loved
him
like
a
brother
.
It
would
grieve
me
to
see
him
die
.
"
And
her
betrothed
looked
at
her
with
the
cool
grey
eyes
of
a
Stark
and
promised
to
spare
the
boy
who
loved
her
.
That
fight
was
over
almost
as
soon
as
it
began
.
Brandon
was
a
man
grown
,
and
he
drove
Littlefinger
all
the
way
across
the
bailey
and
down
the
water
stair
,
raining
steel
on
him
with
every
step
,
until
the
boy
was
staggering
and
bleeding
from
a
dozen
wounds
.
"
Yield
!
"
he
called
,
more
than
once
,
but
Petyr
would
only
shake
his
head
and
fight
on
,
grimly
.
When
the
river
was
lapping
at
their
ankles
,
Brandon
finally
ended
it
,
with
a
brutal
backhand
cut
that
bit
through
Petyr
's
rings
and
leather
into
the
soft
flesh
below
the
ribs
,
so
deep
that
Catelyn
was
certain
that
the
wound
was
mortal
.
He
looked
at
her
as
he
fell
and
murmured
"
Cat
"
as
the
bright
blood
came
flowing
out
between
his
mailed
fingers
.
She
thought
she
had
forgotten
that
.
That
was
the
last
time
she
had
seen
his
face
...
