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- Джордж Мартин
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- Игра престолов
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- Стр. 537/751
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The
godswood
was
an
island
of
peace
in
the
sea
of
chaos
that
Winterfell
had
become
.
Hodor
made
his
way
through
the
dense
stands
of
oak
and
ironwood
and
sentinels
,
to
the
still
pool
beside
the
heart
tree
.
He
stopped
under
the
gnarled
limbs
of
the
weirwood
,
humming
.
Bran
reached
up
over
his
head
and
pulled
himself
out
of
his
seat
,
drawing
the
dead
weight
of
his
legs
up
through
the
holes
in
the
wicker
basket
.
He
hung
for
a
moment
,
dangling
,
the
dark
red
leaves
brushing
against
his
face
,
until
Hodor
lifted
him
and
lowered
him
to
the
smooth
stone
beside
the
water
.
"
I
want
to
be
by
myself
for
a
while
,
"
he
said
.
"
You
go
soak
.
Go
to
the
pools
.
"
"
Hodor
.
"
Hodor
stomped
through
the
trees
and
vanished
.
Across
the
godswood
,
beneath
the
windows
of
the
Guest
House
,
an
underground
hot
spring
fed
three
small
ponds
.
Steam
rose
from
the
water
day
and
night
,
and
the
wall
that
loomed
above
was
thick
with
moss
.
Hodor
hated
cold
water
,
and
would
fight
like
a
treed
wildcat
when
threatened
with
soap
,
but
he
would
happily
immerse
himself
in
the
hottest
pool
and
sit
for
hours
,
giving
a
loud
burp
to
echo
the
spring
whenever
a
bubble
rose
from
the
murky
green
depths
to
break
upon
the
surface
.
Summer
lapped
at
the
water
and
settled
down
at
Bran
's
side
.
He
rubbed
the
wolf
under
the
jaw
,
and
for
a
moment
boy
and
beast
both
felt
at
peace
.
Bran
had
always
liked
the
godswood
,
even
before
,
but
of
late
he
found
himself
drawn
to
it
more
and
more
.
Even
the
heart
tree
no
longer
scared
him
the
way
it
used
to
.
The
deep
red
eyes
carved
into
the
pale
trunk
still
watched
him
,
yet
somehow
he
took
comfort
from
that
now
.
The
gods
were
looking
over
him
,
he
told
himself
;
the
old
gods
,
gods
of
the
Starks
and
the
First
Men
and
the
children
of
the
forest
,
his
father
's
gods
.
He
felt
safe
in
their
sight
,
and
the
deep
silence
of
the
trees
helped
him
think
.
Bran
had
been
thinking
a
lot
since
his
fall
;
thinking
,
and
dreaming
,
and
talking
with
the
gods
.
"
Please
make
it
so
Robb
wo
n't
go
away
,
"
he
prayed
softly
.
He
moved
his
hand
through
the
cold
water
,
sending
ripples
across
the
pool
.
"
Please
make
him
stay
.
Or
if
he
has
to
go
,
bring
him
home
safe
,
with
Mother
and
Father
and
the
girls
.
And
make
it
...
make
it
so
Rickon
understands
.
"
His
baby
brother
had
been
wild
as
a
winter
storm
since
he
learned
Robb
was
riding
off
to
war
,
weeping
and
angry
by
turns
.
He
'd
refused
to
eat
,
cried
and
screamed
for
most
of
a
night
,
even
punched
Old
Nan
when
she
tried
to
sing
him
to
sleep
,
and
the
next
day
he
'd
vanished
.
Robb
had
set
half
the
castle
searching
for
him
,
and
when
at
last
they
'd
found
him
down
in
the
crypts
,
Rickon
had
slashed
at
them
with
a
rusted
iron
sword
he
'd
snatched
from
a
dead
king
's
hand
,
and
Shaggydog
had
come
slavering
out
of
the
darkness
like
a
green-eyed
demon
.
The
wolf
was
near
as
wild
as
Rickon
;
he
'd
bitten
Gage
on
the
arm
and
torn
a
chunk
of
flesh
from
Mikken
's
thigh
.
It
had
taken
Robb
himself
and
Grey
Wind
to
bring
him
to
bay
.
Farlen
had
the
black
wolf
chained
up
in
the
kennels
now
,
and
Rickon
cried
all
the
more
for
being
without
him
.
Maester
Luwin
counseled
Robb
to
remain
at
Winterfell
,
and
Bran
pleaded
with
him
too
,
for
his
own
sake
as
much
as
Rickon
's
,
but
his
brother
only
shook
his
head
stubbornly
and
said
,
"
I
do
n't
want
to
go
.
I
have
to
.
"
It
was
only
half
a
lie
.
Someone
had
to
go
,
to
hold
the
Neck
and
help
the
Tullys
against
the
Lannisters
,
Bran
could
understand
that
,
but
it
did
not
have
to
be
Robb
.
His
brother
might
have
given
the
command
to
Hal
Mollen
or
Theon
Greyjoy
,
or
to
one
of
his
lords
bannermen
.
Maester
Luwin
urged
him
to
do
just
that
,
but
Robb
would
not
hear
of
it
.
"
My
lord
father
would
never
have
sent
men
off
to
die
while
he
huddled
like
a
craven
behind
the
walls
of
Winterfell
,
"
he
said
,
all
Robb
the
Lord
.
Robb
seemed
half
a
stranger
to
Bran
now
,
transformed
,
a
lord
in
truth
,
though
he
had
not
yet
seen
his
sixteenth
name
day
.
Even
their
father
's
bannermen
seemed
to
sense
it
.
Many
tried
to
test
him
,
each
in
his
own
way
.
