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- Джордж Мартин
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- Игра престолов
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- Стр. 488/751
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"
I
never
asked
for
this
,
"
he
said
stubbornly
.
"
None
of
us
are
here
for
asking
,
"
Sam
reminded
him
.
And
suddenly
Jon
Snow
was
ashamed
.
Craven
or
not
,
Samwell
Tarly
had
found
the
courage
to
accept
his
fate
like
a
man
.
On
the
Wall
,
a
man
gets
only
what
he
earns
,
Benjen
Stark
had
said
the
last
night
Jon
had
seen
him
alive
.
You
're
no
ranger
,
Jon
,
only
a
green
boy
with
the
smell
of
summer
still
on
you
.
He
'd
heard
it
said
that
bastards
grow
up
faster
than
other
children
;
on
the
Wall
,
you
grew
up
or
you
died
.
Jon
let
out
a
deep
sigh
.
"
You
have
the
right
of
it
.
I
was
acting
the
boy
.
"
"
Then
you
'll
stay
and
say
your
words
with
me
?
"
"
The
old
gods
will
be
expecting
us
.
"
He
made
himself
smile
.
They
set
out
late
that
afternoon
.
The
Wall
had
no
gates
as
such
,
neither
here
at
Castle
Black
nor
anywhere
along
its
three
hundred
miles
.
They
led
their
horses
down
a
narrow
tunnel
cut
through
the
ice
,
cold
dark
walls
pressing
in
around
them
as
the
passage
twisted
and
turned
.
Three
times
their
way
was
blocked
by
iron
bars
,
and
they
had
to
stop
while
Bowen
Marsh
drew
out
his
keys
and
unlocked
the
massive
chains
that
secured
them
.
Jon
could
sense
the
vast
weight
pressing
down
on
him
as
he
waited
behind
the
Lord
Steward
.
The
air
was
colder
than
a
tomb
,
and
more
still
.
He
felt
a
strange
relief
when
they
reemerged
into
the
afternoon
light
on
the
north
side
of
the
Wall
.
Sam
blinked
at
the
sudden
glare
and
looked
around
apprehensively
.
"
The
wildlings
...
they
would
n't
...
they
'd
never
dare
come
this
close
to
the
Wall
.
Would
they
?
"
"
They
never
have
.
"
