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- Джордж Мартин
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- Игра престолов
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- Стр. 497/751
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With
a
single
sharp
thrust
,
the
nearest
gold
cloak
drove
his
spear
into
Tomard
's
back
.
Fat
Tom
's
blade
dropped
from
nerveless
fingers
as
the
wet
red
point
burst
out
through
his
ribs
,
piercing
leather
and
mail
.
He
was
dead
before
his
sword
hit
the
floor
.
Ned
's
shout
came
far
too
late
.
Janos
Slynt
himself
slashed
open
Varly
's
throat
Cayn
whirled
,
steel
flashing
,
drove
back
the
nearest
spearman
with
a
flurry
of
blows
;
for
an
instant
it
looked
as
though
he
might
cut
his
way
free
.
Then
the
Hound
was
on
him
.
Sandor
Clegane
's
first
cut
took
off
Cayn
's
sword
hand
at
the
wrist
;
his
second
drove
him
to
his
knees
and
opened
him
from
shoulder
to
breastbone
.
As
his
men
died
around
him
,
Littlefinger
slid
Ned
's
dagger
from
its
sheath
and
shoved
it
up
under
his
chin
.
His
smile
was
apologetic
.
"
I
did
warn
you
not
to
trust
me
,
you
know
.
"
"
High
,
"
Syrio
Forel
called
out
,
slashing
at
her
head
.
The
stick
swords
clacked
as
Arya
parried
.
"
Left
,
"
he
shouted
,
and
his
blade
came
whistling
.
Hers
darted
to
meet
it
.
The
clack
made
him
click
his
teeth
together
.
"
Right
,
"
he
said
,
and
"
Low
,
"
and
"
Left
,
"
and
"
Left
"
again
,
faster
and
faster
,
moving
forward
.
Arya
retreated
before
him
,
checking
each
blow
.
"
Lunge
,
"
he
warned
,
and
when
he
thrust
she
sidestepped
,
swept
his
blade
away
,
and
slashed
at
his
shoulder
.
She
almost
touched
him
,
almost
,
so
close
it
made
her
grin
.
A
strand
of
hair
dangled
in
her
eyes
,
limp
with
sweat
.
She
pushed
it
away
with
the
back
of
her
hand
.
"
Left
,
"
Syrio
sang
out
.
"
Low
.
"
His
sword
was
a
blur
,
and
the
Small
Hall
echoed
to
the
clack
clack
clack
.
"
Left
.
Left
.
High
.
Left
.
Right
.
Left
.
Low
.
Left
!
"
The
wooden
blade
caught
her
high
in
the
breast
,
a
sudden
stinging
blow
that
hurt
all
the
more
because
it
came
from
the
wrong
side
.
"
Ow
,
"
she
cried
out
.
She
would
have
a
fresh
bruise
there
by
the
time
she
went
to
sleep
,
somewhere
out
at
sea
.
A
bruise
is
a
lesson
,
she
told
herself
,
and
each
lesson
makes
us
better
.
