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- Джордж Мартин
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- Стр. 610/751
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He
is
giving
me
his
son
's
sword
.
Jon
could
scarcely
believe
it
.
The
blade
was
exquisitely
balanced
.
The
edges
glimmered
faintly
as
they
kissed
the
light
.
"
Your
son
--
"
"
My
son
brought
dishonor
to
House
Mormont
,
but
at
least
he
had
the
grace
to
leave
the
sword
behind
when
he
fled
.
My
sister
returned
it
to
my
keeping
,
but
the
very
sight
of
it
reminded
me
of
Jorah
's
shame
,
so
I
put
it
aside
and
thought
no
more
of
it
until
we
found
it
in
the
ashes
of
my
bedchamber
.
The
original
pommel
was
a
bear
's
head
,
silver
,
yet
so
worn
its
features
were
all
but
indistinguishable
.
For
you
,
I
thought
a
white
wolf
more
apt
.
One
of
our
builders
is
a
fair
stonecarver
.
"
When
Jon
had
been
Bran
's
age
,
he
had
dreamed
of
doing
great
deeds
,
as
boys
always
did
.
The
details
of
his
feats
changed
with
every
dreaming
,
but
quite
often
he
imagined
saving
his
father
's
life
.
Afterward
Lord
Eddard
would
declare
that
Jon
had
proved
himself
a
true
Stark
,
and
place
Ice
in
his
hand
.
Even
then
he
had
known
it
was
only
a
child
's
folly
;
no
bastard
could
ever
hope
to
wield
a
father
's
sword
.
Even
the
memory
shamed
him
.
What
kind
of
man
stole
his
own
brother
's
birthright
?
I
have
no
right
to
this
,
he
thought
,
no
more
than
to
Ice
.
He
twitched
his
burned
fingers
,
feeling
a
throb
of
pain
deep
under
the
skin
.
"
My
lord
,
you
honor
me
,
but
--
"
"
Spare
me
your
but
's
,
boy
,
"
Lord
Mormont
interrupted
.
"
I
would
not
be
sitting
here
were
it
not
for
you
and
that
beast
of
yours
.
You
fought
bravely
...
and
more
to
the
point
,
you
thought
quickly
.
Fire
!
Yes
,
damn
it
.
We
ought
to
have
known
.
We
ought
to
have
remembered
.
The
Long
Night
has
come
before
.
Oh
,
eight
thousand
years
is
a
good
while
,
to
be
sure
...
yet
if
the
Night
's
Watch
does
not
remember
,
who
will
?
"
"
Who
will
,
"
chimed
the
talkative
raven
.
"
Who
will
.
"
Truly
,
the
gods
had
heard
Jon
's
prayer
that
night
;
the
fire
had
caught
in
the
dead
man
's
clothing
and
consumed
him
as
if
his
flesh
were
candle
wax
and
his
bones
old
dry
wood
.
Jon
had
only
to
close
his
eyes
to
see
the
thing
staggering
across
the
solar
,
crashing
against
the
furniture
and
flailing
at
the
flames
.
It
was
the
face
that
haunted
him
most
;
surrounded
by
a
nimbus
of
fire
,
hair
blazing
like
straw
,
the
dead
flesh
melting
away
and
sloughing
off
its
skull
to
reveal
the
gleam
of
bone
beneath
.
Whatever
demonic
force
moved
Othor
had
been
driven
out
by
the
flames
;
the
twisted
thing
they
had
found
in
the
ashes
had
been
no
more
than
cooked
meat
and
charred
bone
.
Yet
in
his
nightmare
he
faced
it
again
...
and
this
time
the
burning
corpse
wore
Lord
Eddard
's
features
.
It
was
his
father
's
skin
that
burst
and
blackened
,
his
father
's
eyes
that
ran
liquid
down
his
cheeks
like
jellied
tears
.
Jon
did
not
understand
why
that
should
be
or
what
it
might
mean
,
but
it
frightened
him
more
than
he
could
say
.
"
A
sword
's
small
payment
for
a
life
,
"
Mormont
concluded
.
"
Take
it
,
I
'll
hear
no
more
of
it
,
is
that
understood
?
"
