-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Джордж Мартин
-
- Игра престолов
-
- Стр. 412/751
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
until
the
day
she
was
brought
before
him
in
King
's
Landing
.
A
fortnight
passed
before
Littlefinger
was
strong
enough
to
leave
Riverrun
,
but
her
lord
father
forbade
her
to
visit
him
in
the
tower
where
he
lay
abed
.
Lysa
helped
their
maester
nurse
him
;
she
had
been
softer
and
shyer
in
those
days
.
Edmure
had
called
on
him
as
well
,
but
Petyr
had
sent
him
away
.
Her
brother
had
acted
as
Brandon
's
squire
at
the
duel
,
and
Littlefinger
would
not
forgive
that
.
As
soon
as
he
was
strong
enough
to
be
moved
,
Lord
Hoster
Tully
sent
Petyr
Baelish
away
in
a
closed
litter
,
to
finish
his
healing
on
the
Fingers
,
upon
the
windswept
jut
of
rock
where
he
'd
been
born
.
The
ringing
clash
of
steel
on
steel
jarred
Catelyn
back
to
the
present
.
Ser
Vardis
was
coming
hard
at
Bronn
,
driving
into
him
with
shield
and
sword
.
The
sellsword
scrambled
backward
,
checking
each
blow
,
stepping
lithely
over
rock
and
root
,
his
eyes
never
leaving
his
foe
.
He
was
quicker
,
Catelyn
saw
;
the
knight
's
silvered
sword
never
came
near
to
touching
him
,
but
his
own
ugly
grey
blade
hacked
a
notch
from
Ser
Vardis
's
shoulder
plate
.
The
brief
flurry
of
fighting
ended
as
swiftly
as
it
had
begun
when
Bronn
sidestepped
and
slid
behind
the
statue
of
the
weeping
woman
.
Ser
Vardis
lunged
at
where
he
had
been
,
striking
a
spark
off
the
pale
marble
of
Alyssa
's
thigh
.
"
They
're
not
fighting
good
,
Mother
,
"
the
Lord
of
the
Eyrie
complained
.
"
I
want
them
to
fight
.
"
"
They
will
,
sweet
baby
,
"
his
mother
soothed
him
.
"
The
sellsword
ca
n't
run
all
day
.
"
Some
of
the
lords
on
Lysa
's
terrace
were
making
wry
jests
as
they
refilled
their
wine
cups
,
but
across
the
garden
,
Tyrion
Lannister
's
mismatched
eyes
watched
the
champions
dance
as
if
there
were
nothing
else
in
the
world
.
Bronn
came
out
from
behind
the
statue
hard
and
fast
,
still
moving
left
,
aiming
a
two-handed
cut
at
the
knight
's
unshielded
right
side
.
Ser
Vardis
blocked
,
but
clumsily
,
and
the
sellsword
's
blade
flashed
upward
at
his
head
.
Metal
rang
,
and
a
falcon
's
wing
collapsed
with
a
crunch
.
Ser
Vardis
took
a
half
step
back
to
brace
himself
,
raised
his
shield
.
Oak
chips
flew
as
Bronn
's
sword
hacked
at
the
wooden
wall
.
The
sellsword
stepped
left
again
,
away
from
the
shield
,
and
caught
Ser
Vardis
across
the
stomach
,
the
razor
edge
of
his
blade
leaving
a
bright
gash
when
it
bit
into
the
knight
's
plate
.
Ser
Vardis
drove
forward
off
his
back
foot
,
his
own
silver
blade
descending
in
a
savage
arc
.
Bronn
slammed
it
aside
and
danced
away
.
The
knight
crashed
into
the
weeping
woman
,
rocking
her
on
her
plinth
.
Staggered
,
he
stepped
backward
,
his
head
turning
this
way
and
that
as
he
searched
for
his
foe
.
The
slit
visor
of
his
helm
narrowed
his
vision
.
"
Behind
you
,
ser
!
"
Lord
Hunter
shouted
,
too
late
.
Bronn
brought
his
sword
down
with
both
hands
,
catching
Ser
Vardis
in
the
elbow
of
his
sword
arm
.
The
thin
lobstered
metal
that
protected
the
joint
crunched
.
The
knight
grunted
,
turning
,
wrenching
his
weapon
up
.
This
time
Bronn
stood
his
ground
.
The
swords
flew
at
each
other
,
and
their
steel
song
filled
the
garden
and
rang
off
the
white
towers
of
the
Eyrie
.
