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- Джордж Мартин
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- Игра престолов
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- Стр. 639/751
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"
M'lord
looks
a
dwarf
in
mismatched
armor
,
"
Tyrion
answered
sourly
,
"
but
I
thank
you
for
the
kindness
.
Podrick
,
should
the
battle
go
against
us
,
see
the
lady
safely
home
.
"
He
saluted
her
with
his
axe
,
wheeled
his
horse
about
,
and
trotted
off
.
His
stomach
was
a
hard
knot
,
so
tight
it
pained
him
.
Behind
,
his
servants
hurriedly
began
to
strike
his
tent
.
Pale
crimson
fingers
fanned
out
to
the
east
as
the
first
rays
of
the
sun
broke
over
the
horizon
.
The
western
sky
was
a
deep
purple
,
speckled
with
stars
.
Tyrion
wondered
whether
this
was
the
last
sunrise
he
would
ever
see
...
and
whether
wondering
was
a
mark
of
cowardice
.
Did
his
brother
Jaime
ever
contemplate
death
before
a
battle
?
A
warhorn
sounded
in
the
far
distance
,
a
deep
mournful
note
that
chilled
the
soul
.
The
clansmen
climbed
onto
their
scrawny
mountain
horses
,
shouting
curses
and
rude
jokes
.
Several
appeared
to
be
drunk
.
The
rising
sun
was
burning
off
the
drifting
tendrils
of
fog
as
Tyrion
led
them
off
.
What
grass
the
horses
had
left
was
heavy
with
dew
,
as
if
some
passing
god
had
scattered
a
bag
of
diamonds
over
the
earth
.
The
mountain
men
fell
in
behind
him
,
each
clan
arrayed
behind
its
own
leaders
.
In
the
dawn
light
,
the
army
of
Lord
Tywin
Lannister
unfolded
like
an
iron
rose
,
thorns
gleaming
.
His
uncle
would
lead
the
center
.
Ser
Kevan
had
raised
his
standards
above
the
kingsroad
.
Quivers
hanging
from
their
belts
,
the
foot
archers
arrayed
themselves
into
three
long
lines
,
to
east
and
west
of
the
road
,
and
stood
calmly
stringing
their
bows
.
Between
them
,
pikemen
formed
squares
;
behind
were
rank
on
rank
of
men-at-arms
with
spear
and
sword
and
axe
.
Three
hundred
heavy
horse
surrounded
Ser
Kevan
and
the
lords
bannermen
Lefford
,
Lydden
,
and
Serrett
with
all
their
sworn
retainers
.
The
right
wing
was
all
cavalry
,
some
four
thousand
men
,
heavy
with
the
weight
of
their
armor
.
More
than
three
quarters
of
the
knights
were
there
,
massed
together
like
a
great
steel
fist
.
Ser
Addam
Marbrand
had
the
command
.
Tyrion
saw
his
banner
unfurl
as
his
standardbearer
shook
it
out
;
a
burning
tree
,
orange
and
smoke
.
Behind
him
flew
Ser
Flement
's
purple
unicorn
,
the
brindled
boar
of
Crakehall
,
the
bantam
rooster
of
Swyft
,
and
more
.
His
lord
father
took
his
place
on
the
hill
where
he
had
slept
.
Around
him
,
the
reserve
assembled
;
a
huge
force
,
half
mounted
and
half
foot
,
five
thousand
strong
.
Lord
Tywin
almost
always
chose
to
command
the
reserve
;
he
would
take
the
high
ground
and
watch
the
battle
unfold
below
him
,
committing
his
forces
when
and
where
they
were
needed
most
.
Even
from
afar
,
his
lord
father
was
resplendent
.
Tywin
Lannister
's
battle
armor
put
his
son
Jaime
's
gilded
suit
to
shame
.
His
greatcloak
was
sewn
from
countless
layers
of
cloth-of-gold
,
so
heavy
that
it
barely
stirred
even
when
he
charged
,
so
large
that
its
drape
covered
most
of
his
stallion
's
hindquarters
when
he
took
the
saddle
.
No
ordinary
clasp
would
suffice
for
such
a
weight
,
so
the
greatcloak
was
held
in
place
by
a
matched
pair
of
miniature
lionesses
crouching
on
his
shoulders
,
as
if
poised
to
spring
.
Their
mate
,
a
male
with
a
magnificent
mane
,
reclined
atop
Lord
Tywin
's
greathelm
,
one
paw
raking
the
air
as
he
roared
.
All
three
lions
were
wrought
in
gold
,
with
ruby
eyes
.
His
armor
was
heavy
steel
plate
,
enameled
in
a
dark
crimson
,
greaves
and
gauntlets
inlaid
with
ornate
gold
scrollwork
.
His
rondels
were
golden
sunbursts
,
all
his
fastenings
were
gilded
,
and
the
red
steel
was
burnished
to
such
a
high
sheen
that
it
shone
like
fire
in
the
light
of
the
rising
sun
.
Tyrion
could
hear
the
rumble
of
the
foemen
's
drums
now
.
He
remembered
Robb
Stark
as
he
had
last
seen
him
,
in
his
father
's
high
seat
in
the
Great
Hall
of
Winterfell
,
a
sword
naked
and
shining
in
his
hands
.
He
remembered
how
the
direwolves
had
come
at
him
out
of
the
shadows
,
and
suddenly
he
could
see
them
again
,
snarling
and
snapping
,
teeth
bared
in
his
face
.
Would
the
boy
bring
his
wolves
to
war
with
him
?
The
thought
made
him
uneasy
.
The
northerners
would
be
exhausted
after
their
long
sleepless
march
.
Tyrion
wondered
what
the
boy
had
been
thinking
.
