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- Джордж Мартин
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- Игра престолов
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- Стр. 459/751
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Khal
Drogo
stood
over
her
as
she
ate
,
his
face
as
hard
as
a
bronze
shield
.
His
long
black
braid
was
shiny
with
oil
.
He
wore
gold
rings
in
his
mustache
,
gold
bells
in
his
braid
,
and
a
heavy
belt
of
solid
gold
medallions
around
his
waist
,
but
his
chest
was
bare
.
She
looked
at
him
whenever
she
felt
her
strength
failing
;
looked
at
him
,
and
chewed
and
swallowed
,
chewed
and
swallowed
,
chewed
and
swallowed
.
Toward
the
end
,
Dany
thought
she
glimpsed
a
fierce
pride
in
his
dark
,
almond-shaped
eyes
,
but
she
could
not
be
sure
.
The
khal
's
face
did
not
often
betray
the
thoughts
within
.
And
finally
it
was
done
.
Her
cheeks
and
fingers
were
sticky
as
she
forced
down
the
last
of
it
.
Only
then
did
she
turn
her
eyes
back
to
the
old
women
,
the
crones
of
the
dosh
khaleen
.
"
Khalakka
dothrae
mr
'
anha
!
"
she
proclaimed
in
her
best
Dothraki
.
A
prince
rides
inside
me
!
She
had
practiced
the
phrase
for
days
with
her
handmaid
Jhiqui
.
The
oldest
of
the
crones
,
a
bent
and
shriveled
stick
of
a
woman
with
a
single
black
eye
,
raised
her
arms
on
high
.
"
Khalakka
dothrae
!
"
she
shrieked
.
The
prince
is
riding
!
"
He
is
riding
!
"
the
other
women
answered
.
"
Rakh
!
Rakh
!
Rakh
haj
!
"
they
proclaimed
.
A
boy
,
a
boy
,
a
strong
boy
.
Bells
rang
,
a
sudden
clangor
of
bronze
birds
.
A
deep-throated
warhorn
sounded
its
long
low
note
.
The
old
women
began
to
chant
.
Underneath
their
painted
leather
vests
,
their
withered
dugs
swayed
back
and
forth
,
shiny
with
oil
and
sweat
.
The
eunuchs
who
served
them
threw
bundles
of
dried
grasses
into
a
great
bronze
brazier
,
and
clouds
of
fragrant
smoke
rose
up
toward
the
moon
and
the
stars
.
The
Dothraki
believed
the
stars
were
horses
made
of
fire
,
a
great
herd
that
galloped
across
the
sky
by
night
.
As
the
smoke
ascended
,
the
chanting
died
away
and
the
ancient
crone
closed
her
single
eye
,
the
better
to
peer
into
the
future
.
The
silence
that
fell
was
complete
.
Dany
could
hear
the
distant
call
of
night
birds
,
the
hiss
and
crackle
of
the
torches
,
the
gentle
lapping
of
water
from
the
lake
.
The
Dothraki
stared
at
her
with
eyes
of
night
,
waiting
.
Khal
Drogo
laid
his
hand
on
Dany
's
arm
.
She
could
feel
the
tension
in
his
fingers
.
Even
a
khal
as
mighty
as
Drogo
could
know
fear
when
the
dosh
khaleen
peered
into
smoke
of
the
future
.
At
her
back
,
her
handmaids
fluttered
anxiously
.
Finally
the
crone
opened
her
eye
and
lifted
her
arms
.
"
I
have
seen
his
face
,
and
heard
the
thunder
of
his
hooves
,
"
she
proclaimed
in
a
thin
,
wavery
voice
.
