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- Джордж Мартин
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- Игра престолов
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- Стр. 642/751
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The
hedgehog
was
crumbling
,
the
northerners
reeling
back
under
the
impact
of
the
mounted
assault
.
Tyrion
saw
Shagga
catch
a
spearman
full
in
the
chest
as
the
fool
came
on
at
a
run
,
saw
his
axe
shear
through
mail
and
leather
and
muscle
and
lungs
.
The
man
was
dead
on
his
feet
,
the
axehead
lodged
in
his
breast
,
yet
Shagga
rode
on
,
cleaving
a
shield
in
two
with
his
left-hand
battle-axe
while
the
corpse
was
bouncing
and
stumbling
bonelessly
along
on
his
right
.
Finally
the
dead
man
slid
off
.
Shagga
smashed
the
two
axes
together
and
roared
.
By
then
the
enemy
was
on
him
,
and
Tyrion
's
battle
shrunk
to
the
few
feet
of
ground
around
his
horse
.
A
man-at-arms
thrust
at
his
chest
and
his
axe
lashed
out
,
knocking
the
spear
aside
.
The
man
danced
back
for
another
try
,
but
Tyrion
spurred
his
horse
and
rode
right
over
him
.
Bronn
was
surrounded
by
three
foes
,
but
he
lopped
the
head
off
the
first
spear
that
came
at
him
,
and
raked
his
blade
across
a
second
man
's
face
on
his
backslash
.
A
thrown
spear
came
hurtling
at
Tyrion
from
the
left
and
lodged
in
his
shield
with
a
woody
chunk
.
He
wheeled
and
raced
after
the
thrower
,
but
the
man
raised
his
own
shield
over
his
head
.
Tyrion
circled
around
him
,
raining
axe
blows
down
on
the
wood
.
Chips
of
oak
went
flying
,
until
the
northerner
lost
his
feet
and
slipped
,
failing
flat
on
his
back
with
his
shield
on
top
of
him
.
He
was
below
the
reach
of
Tyrion
's
axe
and
it
was
too
much
bother
to
dismount
,
so
he
left
him
there
and
rode
after
another
man
,
taking
him
from
behind
with
a
sweeping
downcut
that
sent
a
jolt
of
impact
up
his
arm
.
That
won
him
a
moment
's
respite
.
Reining
up
,
he
looked
for
the
river
.
There
it
was
,
off
to
the
right
.
Somehow
he
had
gotten
turned
around
.
A
Burned
Man
rode
past
,
slumped
against
his
horse
.
A
spear
had
entered
his
belly
and
come
out
through
his
back
.
He
was
past
any
help
,
but
when
Tyrion
saw
one
of
the
northerners
run
up
and
make
a
grab
for
his
reins
,
he
charged
.
His
quarry
met
him
sword
in
hand
.
He
was
tall
and
spare
,
wearing
a
long
chainmail
hauberk
and
gauntlets
of
lobstered
steel
,
but
he
'd
lost
his
helm
and
blood
ran
down
into
his
eyes
from
a
gash
across
his
forehead
.
Tyrion
aimed
a
swipe
at
his
face
,
but
the
tall
man
slammed
it
aside
.
"
Dwarf
,
"
he
screamed
.
"
Die
.
"
He
turned
in
a
circle
as
Tyrion
rode
around
him
,
hacking
at
his
head
and
shoulders
.
Steel
rang
on
steel
,
and
Tyrion
soon
realized
that
the
tall
man
was
quicker
and
stronger
than
he
was
.
Where
in
the
seven
hells
was
Bronn
?
"
Die
,
"
the
man
grunted
,
chopping
at
him
savagely
.
Tyrion
barely
got
his
shield
up
in
time
,
and
the
wood
seemed
to
explode
inward
under
the
force
of
the
blow
.
The
shattered
pieces
fell
away
from
his
arm
.
"
Die
!
"
the
swordsman
bellowed
,
shoving
in
close
and
whanging
Tyrion
across
the
temple
so
hard
his
head
rang
.
The
blade
made
a
hideous
scraping
sound
as
he
drew
it
back
over
the
steel
.
The
tall
man
grinned
...
until
Tyrion
's
destrier
bit
,
quick
as
a
snake
,
laying
his
cheek
bare
to
the
bone
.
Then
he
screamed
.
Tyrion
buried
his
axe
in
his
head
.
"
You
die
,
"
he
told
him
,
and
he
did
.
As
he
wrenched
the
blade
free
,
he
heard
a
shout
.
'
Eddard
!
"
a
voice
rang
out
.
"
For
Eddard
and
Winterfell
!
"
The
knight
came
thundering
down
on
him
,
swinging
the
spiked
ball
of
a
morningstar
around
his
head
.
Their
warhorses
slammed
together
before
Tyrion
could
so
much
as
open
his
mouth
to
shout
for
Bronn
.
His
right
elbow
exploded
with
pain
as
the
spikes
punched
through
the
thin
metal
around
the
joint
.
His
axe
was
gone
,
as
fast
as
that
.
He
clawed
for
his
sword
,
but
the
morningstar
was
circling
again
,
coming
at
his
face
.
A
sickening
crunch
,
and
he
was
falling
.
He
did
not
recall
hitting
the
ground
,
but
when
he
looked
up
there
was
only
sky
above
him
.
He
rolled
onto
his
side
and
tried
to
find
his
feet
,
but
pain
shuddered
through
him
and
the
world
throbbed
.
The
knight
who
had
felled
him
drew
up
above
him
.
"
Tyrion
the
Imp
,
"
he
boomed
down
.
"
You
are
mine
.
Do
you
yield
,
Lannister
?
"
Yes
,
Tyrion
thought
,
but
the
word
caught
in
his
throat
.
He
made
a
croaking
sound
and
fought
his
way
to
his
knees
,
fumbling
for
a
weapon
.
His
sword
,
his
dirk
,
anything
...
