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- Джордж Мартин
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- Игра престолов
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- Стр. 502/751
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"
You
are
slow
,
for
a
knight
,
"
Syrio
replied
.
"
Kill
the
Braavosi
and
bring
me
the
girl
,
"
the
knight
in
the
white
armor
commanded
.
Four
Lannister
guardsmen
unsheathed
their
swords
.
The
fifth
,
with
the
broken
fingers
,
spat
and
pulled
free
a
dagger
with
his
left
hand
.
Syrio
Forel
clicked
his
teeth
together
,
sliding
into
his
water
dancer
's
stance
,
presenting
only
his
side
to
the
foe
.
"
Arya
child
,
"
he
called
out
,
never
looking
,
never
taking
his
eyes
off
the
Lannisters
,
"
we
are
done
with
dancing
for
the
day
.
Best
you
are
going
now
.
Run
to
your
father
.
"
Arya
did
not
want
to
leave
him
,
but
he
had
taught
her
to
do
as
he
said
.
"
Swift
as
a
deer
,
"
she
whispered
.
"
Just
so
,
"
said
Syrio
Forel
as
the
Lannisters
closed
.
Arya
retreated
,
her
own
sword
stick
clutched
tightly
in
her
hand
.
Watching
him
now
,
she
realized
that
Syrio
had
only
been
toying
with
her
when
they
dueled
.
The
red
cloaks
came
at
him
from
three
sides
with
steel
in
their
hands
.
They
had
chainmail
over
their
chest
and
arms
,
and
steel
codpieces
sewn
into
their
pants
,
but
only
leather
on
their
legs
.
Their
hands
were
bare
,
and
the
caps
they
wore
had
noseguards
,
but
no
visor
over
the
eyes
.
Syrio
did
not
wait
for
them
to
reach
him
,
but
spun
to
his
left
.
Arya
had
never
seen
a
man
move
as
fast
.
He
checked
one
sword
with
his
stick
and
whirled
away
from
a
second
.
Off
balance
,
the
second
man
lurched
into
the
first
.
Syrio
put
a
boot
to
his
back
and
the
red
cloaks
went
down
together
.
The
third
guard
came
leaping
over
them
,
slashing
at
the
water
dancer
's
head
.
Syrio
ducked
under
his
blade
and
thrust
upward
.
The
guardsman
fell
screaming
as
blood
welled
from
the
wet
red
hole
where
his
left
eye
had
been
.
The
fallen
men
were
getting
up
.
Syrio
kicked
one
in
the
face
and
snatched
the
steel
cap
off
the
other
's
head
.
The
dagger
man
stabbed
at
him
.
Syrio
caught
the
thrust
in
the
helmet
and
shattered
the
man
's
kneecap
with
his
stick
.
The
last
red
cloak
shouted
a
curse
and
charged
,
hacking
down
with
both
hands
on
his
sword
.
Syrio
rolled
right
,
and
the
butcher
's
cut
caught
the
helmetless
man
between
neck
and
shoulder
as
he
struggled
to
his
knees
.
The
longsword
crunched
through
mail
and
leather
and
flesh
.
The
man
on
his
knees
shrieked
.
Before
his
killer
could
wrench
free
his
blade
,
Syrio
jabbed
him
in
the
apple
of
his
throat
.
The
guardsman
gave
a
choked
cry
and
staggered
back
,
clutching
at
his
neck
,
his
face
blackening
.
