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- Джордж Мартин
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"
Only
he
died
,
so
what
does
it
matter
?
You
say
you
want
to
cross
the
river
?
"
"
We
do
.
"
"
Well
,
you
ca
n't
!
"
Lord
Walder
announced
crisply
.
"
Not
unless
I
allow
it
,
and
why
should
I
?
The
Tullys
and
the
Starks
have
never
been
friends
of
mine
.
"
He
pushed
himself
back
in
his
chair
and
crossed
his
arms
,
smirking
,
waiting
for
her
answer
.
The
rest
was
only
haggling
.
A
swollen
red
sun
hung
low
against
the
western
hills
when
the
gates
of
the
castle
opened
.
The
drawbridge
creaked
down
,
the
portcullis
winched
up
,
and
Lady
Catelyn
Stark
rode
forth
to
rejoin
her
son
and
his
lords
bannermen
.
Behind
her
came
Ser
Jared
Frey
,
Ser
Hosteen
Frey
,
Ser
Danwell
Frey
,
and
Lord
Walder
's
bastard
son
Ronel
Rivers
,
leading
a
long
column
of
pikemen
,
rank
on
rank
of
shuffling
men
in
blue
steel
ringmail
and
silvery
grey
cloaks
.
Robb
galloped
out
to
meet
her
,
with
Grey
Wind
racing
beside
his
stallion
.
"
It
's
done
,
"
she
told
him
.
"
Lord
Walder
will
grant
you
your
crossing
.
His
swords
are
yours
as
well
,
less
four
hundred
he
means
to
keep
back
to
hold
the
Twins
.
I
suggest
that
you
leave
four
hundred
of
your
own
,
a
mixed
force
of
archers
and
swordsmen
.
He
can
scarcely
object
to
an
offer
to
augment
his
garrison
...
but
make
certain
you
give
the
command
to
a
man
you
can
trust
.
Lord
Walder
may
need
help
keeping
faith
.
"
"
As
you
say
,
Mother
,
"
Robb
answered
,
gazing
at
the
ranks
of
pikemen
.
"
Perhaps
...
Ser
Helman
Tallhart
,
do
you
think
?
"
"
A
fine
choice
.
"
"
What
...
what
did
he
want
of
us
?
"
