-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Джордж Мартин
-
- Игра престолов
-
- Стр. 614/751
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
Jon
unsheathed
Longclaw
and
showed
it
to
them
,
turning
it
this
way
and
that
so
they
could
admire
it
.
The
bastard
blade
glittered
in
the
pale
sunlight
,
dark
and
deadly
.
"
Valyrian
steel
,
"
he
declared
solemnly
,
trying
to
sound
as
pleased
and
proud
as
he
ought
to
have
felt
.
"
I
heard
of
a
man
who
had
a
razor
made
of
Valyrian
steel
,
"
declared
Toad
.
"
He
cut
his
head
off
trying
to
shave
.
"
Pyp
grinned
.
"
The
Night
's
Watch
is
thousands
of
years
old
,
"
he
said
,
"
but
I
'll
wager
Lord
Snow
's
the
first
brother
ever
honored
for
burning
down
the
Lord
Commander
's
Tower
.
"
The
others
laughed
,
and
even
Jon
had
to
smile
.
The
fire
he
'd
started
had
not
,
in
truth
,
burned
down
that
formidable
stone
tower
,
but
it
had
done
a
fair
job
of
gutting
the
interior
of
the
top
two
floors
,
where
the
Old
Bear
had
his
chambers
.
No
one
seemed
to
mind
that
very
much
,
since
it
had
also
destroyed
Othor
's
murderous
corpse
.
The
other
wight
,
the
one-handed
thing
that
had
once
been
a
ranger
named
Jafer
Flowers
,
had
also
been
destroyed
,
cut
near
to
pieces
by
a
dozen
swords
...
but
not
before
it
had
slain
Ser
Jaremy
Rykker
and
four
other
men
.
Ser
Jaremy
had
finished
the
job
of
hacking
its
head
off
,
yet
had
died
all
the
same
when
the
headless
corpse
pulled
his
own
dagger
from
its
sheath
and
buried
it
in
his
bowels
.
Strength
and
courage
did
not
avail
much
against
foemen
who
would
not
fall
because
they
were
already
dead
;
even
arms
and
armor
offered
small
protection
.
That
grim
thought
soured
Jon
's
fragile
mood
.
"
I
need
to
see
Hobb
about
the
Old
Bear
's
supper
,
"
he
announced
brusquely
,
sliding
Longclaw
back
into
its
scabbard
.
His
friends
meant
well
,
but
they
did
not
understand
.
It
was
not
their
fault
,
truly
;
they
had
not
had
to
face
Othor
,
they
had
not
seen
the
pale
glow
of
those
dead
blue
eyes
,
had
not
felt
the
cold
of
those
dead
black
fingers
.
Nor
did
they
know
of
the
fighting
in
the
riverlands
.
How
could
they
hope
to
comprehend
?
He
turned
away
from
them
abruptly
and
strode
off
,
sullen
.
Pyp
called
after
him
,
but
Jon
paid
him
no
mind
.
They
had
moved
him
back
to
his
old
cell
in
tumbledown
Hardin
's
Tower
after
the
fire
,
and
it
was
there
he
returned
.
Ghost
was
curled
up
asleep
beside
the
door
,
but
he
lifted
his
head
at
the
sound
of
Jon
's
boots
.
The
direwolf
's
red
eyes
were
darker
than
garnets
and
wiser
than
men
.
Jon
knelt
,
scratched
his
ear
,
and
showed
him
the
pommel
of
the
sword
.
"
Look
.
It
's
you
.
"
Ghost
sniffed
at
his
carved
stone
likeness
and
tried
a
lick
.
Jon
smiled
.
"
You
're
the
one
deserves
an
honor
,
"
he
told
the
wolf
...
and
suddenly
he
found
himself
remembering
how
he
'd
found
him
,
that
day
in
the
late
summer
snow
.
They
had
been
riding
off
with
the
other
pups
,
but
Jon
had
heard
a
noise
and
turned
back
,
and
there
he
was
,
white
fur
almost
invisible
against
the
drifts
.
He
was
all
alone
,
he
thought
,
apart
from
the
others
in
the
litter
.
He
was
different
,
so
they
drove
him
out
.
