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- Джордж Мартин
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- Игра престолов
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- Стр. 641/751
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"
Crow
food
,
"
Bronn
muttered
beside
him
,
giving
voice
to
what
Tyrion
had
left
unsaid
.
He
could
only
nod
.
Had
his
lord
father
taken
leave
of
his
senses
?
No
pikes
,
too
few
bowmen
,
a
bare
handful
of
knights
,
the
ill-armed
and
unarmored
,
commanded
by
an
unthinking
brute
who
led
with
his
rage
...
how
could
his
father
expect
this
travesty
of
a
battle
to
hold
his
left
?
He
had
no
time
to
think
about
it
.
The
drums
were
so
near
that
the
beat
crept
under
his
skin
and
set
his
hands
to
twitching
.
Bronn
drew
his
longsword
,
and
suddenly
the
enemy
was
there
before
them
,
boiling
over
the
tops
of
the
hills
,
advancing
with
measured
tread
behind
a
wall
of
shields
and
pikes
.
Gods
be
damned
,
look
at
them
all
,
Tyrion
thought
,
though
he
knew
his
father
had
more
men
on
the
field
.
Their
captains
led
them
on
armored
warhorses
,
standard-bearers
riding
alongside
with
their
banners
.
He
glimpsed
the
bull
moose
of
the
Hornwoods
,
the
Karstark
sunburst
,
Lord
Cerwyn
's
battle-axe
,
and
the
mailed
fist
of
the
Glovers
...
and
the
twin
towers
of
Frey
,
blue
on
grey
.
So
much
for
his
father
's
certainty
that
Lord
Walder
would
not
bestir
himself
.
The
white
of
House
Stark
was
seen
everywhere
,
the
grey
direwolves
seeming
to
run
and
leap
as
the
banners
swirled
and
streamed
from
the
high
staffs
.
Where
is
the
boy
?
Tyrion
wondered
.
A
warhorn
blew
.
Haroooooooooooooooooooooooo
,
it
cried
,
its
voice
as
long
and
low
and
chilling
as
a
cold
wind
from
the
north
.
The
Lannister
trumpets
answered
,
da-DA
da-DA
da-DAAAAAAAAA
,
brazen
and
defiant
,
yet
it
seemed
to
Tyrion
that
they
sounded
somehow
smaller
,
more
anxious
.
He
could
feel
a
fluttering
in
his
bowels
,
a
queasy
liquid
feeling
;
he
hoped
he
was
not
going
to
die
sick
.
As
the
horns
died
away
,
a
hissing
filled
the
air
;
a
vast
flight
of
arrows
arched
up
from
his
right
,
where
the
archers
stood
flanking
the
road
.
The
northerners
broke
into
a
run
,
shouting
as
they
came
,
but
the
Lannister
arrows
fell
on
them
like
hail
,
hundreds
of
arrows
,
thousands
,
and
shouts
turned
to
screams
as
men
stumbled
and
went
down
.
By
then
a
second
flight
was
in
the
air
,
and
the
archers
were
fitting
a
third
arrow
to
their
bowstrings
.
The
trumpets
blared
again
,
da-DAAA
da-DAAA
da-DA
da-DA
da-DAAAAAAA
.
Ser
Gregor
waved
his
huge
sword
and
bellowed
a
command
,
and
a
thousand
other
voices
screamed
back
at
him
.
Tyrion
put
his
spurs
to
his
horse
and
added
one
more
voice
to
the
cacophony
,
and
the
van
surged
forward
.
"
The
river
!
"
he
shouted
at
his
clansmen
as
they
rode
.
"
Remember
,
hew
to
the
river
.
"
He
was
still
leading
when
they
broke
a
canter
,
until
Chella
gave
a
bloodcurdling
shriek
and
galloped
past
him
,
and
Shagga
howled
and
followed
.
The
clansmen
charged
after
them
,
leaving
Tyrion
in
their
dust
.
A
crescent
of
enemy
spearmen
had
formed
ahead
,
a
double
hedgehog
bristling
with
steel
,
waiting
behind
tall
oaken
shields
marked
with
the
sunburst
of
Karstark
.
Gregor
Clegane
was
the
first
to
reach
them
,
leading
a
wedge
of
armored
veterans
.
Half
the
horses
shied
at
the
last
second
,
breaking
their
charge
before
the
row
of
spears
.
The
others
died
,
sharp
steel
points
ripping
through
their
chests
.
Tyrion
saw
a
dozen
men
go
down
.
The
Mountain
's
stallion
reared
,
lashing
out
with
iron-shod
hooves
as
a
barbed
spearhead
raked
across
his
neck
.
Maddened
,
the
beast
lunged
into
the
ranks
.
Spears
thrust
at
him
from
every
side
,
but
the
shield
wall
broke
beneath
his
weight
.
The
northerners
stumbled
away
from
the
animal
's
death
throes
.
As
his
horse
fell
,
snorting
blood
and
biting
with
his
last
red
breath
,
the
Mountain
rose
untouched
,
laying
about
him
with
his
two-handed
greatsword
.
Shagga
went
bursting
through
the
gap
before
the
shields
could
close
,
other
Stone
Crows
hard
behind
him
.
Tyrion
shouted
,
"
Burned
Men
!
Moon
Brothers
!
After
me
!
"
but
most
of
them
were
ahead
of
him
.
He
glimpsed
Timett
son
of
Timett
vault
free
as
his
mount
died
under
him
in
full
stride
,
saw
a
Moon
Brother
impaled
on
a
Karstark
spear
,
watched
Conn
's
horse
shatter
a
man
's
ribs
with
a
kick
.
A
flight
of
arrows
descended
on
them
;
where
they
came
from
he
could
not
say
,
but
they
fell
on
Stark
and
Lannister
alike
,
rattling
off
armor
or
finding
flesh
.
Tyrion
lifted
his
shield
and
hid
beneath
it
.
