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- Джордж Мартин
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- Игра престолов
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- Стр. 643/751
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"
Do
you
yield
?
"
The
knight
loomed
overhead
on
his
armored
warhorse
.
Man
and
horse
both
seemed
immense
.
The
spiked
ball
swung
in
a
lazy
circle
.
Tyrion
's
hands
were
numb
,
his
vision
blurred
,
his
scabbard
empty
.
"
Yield
or
die
,
"
the
knight
declared
,
his
flail
whirling
faster
and
faster
.
Tyrion
lurched
to
his
feet
,
driving
his
head
into
the
horse
's
belly
.
The
animal
gave
a
hideous
scream
and
reared
.
It
tried
to
twist
away
from
the
agony
,
a
shower
of
blood
and
viscera
poured
down
over
Tyrion
's
face
,
and
the
horse
fell
like
an
avalanche
.
The
next
he
knew
,
his
visor
was
packed
with
mud
and
something
was
crushing
his
foot
.
He
wriggled
free
,
his
throat
so
tight
he
could
scarce
talk
.
"
...
yield
...
"
he
managed
to
croak
faintly
.
"
Yes
,
"
a
voice
moaned
,
thick
with
pain
.
Tyrion
scraped
the
mud
off
his
helm
so
he
could
see
again
.
The
horse
had
fallen
away
from
him
,
onto
its
rider
.
The
knight
's
leg
was
trapped
,
the
arm
he
'd
used
to
break
his
fall
twisted
at
a
grotesque
angle
.
"
Yield
,
"
he
repeated
.
Fumbling
at
his
belt
with
his
good
hand
,
he
drew
a
sword
and
flung
it
at
Tyrion
's
feet
.
"
I
yield
,
my
lord
.
"
Dazed
,
the
dwarf
knelt
and
lifted
the
blade
.
Pain
hammered
through
his
elbow
when
he
moved
his
arm
.
The
battle
seemed
to
have
moved
beyond
him
.
No
one
remained
on
his
part
of
the
field
save
a
large
number
of
corpses
.
Ravens
were
already
circling
and
landing
to
feed
.
He
saw
that
Ser
Kevan
had
brought
up
his
center
in
support
of
the
van
;
his
huge
mass
of
pikemen
had
pushed
the
northerners
back
against
the
hills
.
They
were
struggling
on
the
slopes
,
pikes
thrusting
against
another
wall
of
shields
,
these
oval
and
reinforced
with
iron
studs
.
As
he
watched
,
the
air
filled
with
arrows
again
,
and
the
men
behind
the
oak
wall
crumbled
beneath
the
murderous
fire
.
"
I
believe
you
are
losing
,
ser
,
"
he
told
the
knight
under
the
horse
.
The
man
made
no
reply
.
The
sound
of
hooves
coming
up
behind
him
made
him
whirl
,
though
he
could
scarcely
lift
the
sword
he
held
for
the
agony
in
his
elbow
.
Brorm
reined
up
and
looked
down
on
him
.
"
Small
use
you
turned
out
to
be
,
"
Tyrion
told
him
.
"
It
would
seem
you
did
well
enough
on
your
own
,
"
Bronn
answered
.
"
You
've
lost
the
spike
off
your
helm
,
though
.
"
Tyrion
groped
at
the
top
of
the
greathelm
.
The
spike
had
snapped
off
clean
.
"
I
have
n't
lost
it
.
I
know
just
where
it
is
.
Do
you
see
my
horse
?
"
