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- Джордж Мартин
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- Игра престолов
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- Стр. 571/751
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That
did
take
Tyrion
aback
.
"
My
sister
,
you
mean
.
"
He
took
another
gulp
of
ale
.
The
realm
would
be
a
much
different
place
with
Cersei
ruling
in
place
of
her
husband
.
"
If
you
have
a
mind
to
make
yourself
of
use
,
I
will
give
you
a
command
,
"
his
father
said
.
"
Marq
Piper
and
Karyl
Vance
are
loose
in
our
rear
,
raiding
our
lands
across
the
Red
Fork
.
"
Tyrion
made
a
tsking
sound
.
"
The
gall
of
them
,
fighting
back
.
Ordinarily
I
'd
be
glad
to
punish
such
rudeness
,
Father
,
but
the
truth
is
,
I
have
pressing
business
elsewhere
.
"
"
Do
you
?
"
Lord
Tywin
did
not
seem
awed
.
"
We
also
have
a
pair
of
Ned
Stark
's
afterthoughts
making
a
nuisance
of
themselves
by
harassing
my
foraging
parties
.
Beric
Dondarrion
,
some
young
lordling
with
delusions
of
valor
.
He
has
that
fat
jape
of
a
priest
with
him
,
the
one
who
likes
to
set
his
sword
on
fire
.
Do
you
think
you
might
be
able
to
deal
with
them
as
you
scamper
off
?
Without
making
too
much
a
botch
of
it
?
"
Tyrion
wiped
his
mouth
with
the
back
of
his
hand
and
smiled
.
"
Father
,
it
warms
my
heart
to
think
that
you
might
entrust
me
with
...
what
,
twenty
men
?
Fifty
?
Are
you
sure
you
can
spare
so
many
?
Well
,
no
matter
.
If
I
should
come
across
Thoros
and
Lord
Beric
,
I
shall
spank
them
both
.
"
He
climbed
down
from
his
chair
and
waddled
to
the
sideboard
,
where
a
wheel
of
veined
white
cheese
sat
surrounded
by
fruit
.
"
First
,
though
,
I
have
some
promises
of
my
own
to
keep
,
"
he
said
as
he
sliced
off
a
wedge
.
"
I
shall
require
three
thousand
helms
and
as
many
hauberks
,
plus
swords
,
pikes
,
steel
spearheads
,
maces
,
battleaxes
,
gauntlets
,
gorgets
,
greaves
,
breastplates
,
wagons
to
carry
all
this
--
"
The
door
behind
him
opened
with
a
crash
,
so
violently
that
Tyrion
almost
dropped
his
cheese
.
Ser
Kevan
leapt
up
swearing
as
the
captain
of
the
guard
went
flying
across
the
room
to
smash
against
the
hearth
.
As
he
tumbled
down
into
the
cold
ashes
,
his
lion
helm
askew
,
Shagga
snapped
the
man
's
sword
in
two
over
a
knee
thick
as
a
tree
trunk
,
threw
down
the
pieces
,
and
lumbered
into
the
common
room
.
He
was
preceded
by
his
stench
,
riper
than
the
cheese
and
overpowering
in
the
closed
space
.
"
Little
redcape
,
"
he
snarled
,
"
when
next
you
bare
steel
on
Shagga
son
of
Dolf
,
I
will
chop
off
your
manhood
and
roast
it
in
the
fire
.
"
"
What
,
no
goats
?
"
Tyrion
said
,
taking
a
bite
of
cheese
.
The
other
clansmen
followed
Shagga
into
the
common
room
,
Bronn
with
them
.
The
sellsword
gave
Tyrion
a
rueful
shrug
.
