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- Джордж Мартин
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- Игра престолов
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- Стр. 648/751
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When
he
'd
forced
Catelyn
to
accept
her
protectors
,
she
had
insisted
that
he
be
guarded
as
well
,
and
the
lords
bannermen
had
agreed
.
Many
of
their
sons
had
clamored
for
the
honor
of
riding
with
the
Young
Wolf
,
as
they
had
taken
to
calling
him
.
Torrhen
Karstark
and
his
brother
Eddard
were
among
his
thirty
,
and
Patrek
Mallister
,
Smalljon
Umber
,
Daryn
Hornwood
,
Theon
Greyjoy
,
no
less
than
five
of
Walder
Frey
's
vast
brood
,
along
with
older
men
like
Ser
Wendel
Manderly
and
Robin
Flint
.
One
of
his
companions
was
even
a
woman
:
Dacey
Mormont
,
Lady
Maege
's
eldest
daughter
and
heir
to
Bear
Island
,
a
lanky
six-footer
who
had
been
given
a
morningstar
at
an
age
when
most
girls
were
given
dolls
.
Some
of
the
other
lords
muttered
about
that
,
but
Catelyn
would
not
listen
to
their
complaints
.
"
This
is
not
about
the
honor
of
your
houses
,
"
she
told
them
.
"
This
is
about
keeping
my
son
alive
and
whole
.
"
And
if
it
comes
to
that
,
she
wondered
,
will
thirty
be
enough
?
Will
six
thousand
be
enough
?
A
bird
called
faintly
in
the
distance
,
a
high
sharp
trill
that
felt
like
an
icy
hand
on
Catelyn
's
neck
.
Another
bird
answered
;
a
third
,
a
fourth
.
She
knew
their
call
well
enough
,
from
her
years
at
Winterfell
.
Snow
shrikes
.
Sometimes
you
saw
them
in
the
deep
of
winter
,
when
the
godswood
was
white
and
still
.
They
were
northern
birds
.
They
are
coming
,
Catelyn
thought
.
"
They
're
coming
,
my
lady
,
"
Hal
Mollen
whispered
.
He
was
always
a
man
for
stating
the
obvious
.
"
Gods
be
with
us
.
"
She
nodded
as
the
woods
grew
still
around
them
.
In
the
quiet
she
could
hear
them
,
far
off
yet
moving
closer
;
the
tread
of
many
horses
,
the
rattle
of
swords
and
spears
and
armor
,
the
murmur
of
human
voices
,
with
here
a
laugh
,
and
there
a
curse
.
Eons
seemed
to
come
and
go
.
The
sounds
grew
louder
.
She
heard
more
laughter
,
a
shouted
command
,
splashing
as
they
crossed
and
recrossed
the
little
stream
.
A
horse
snorted
.
A
man
swore
.
And
then
at
last
she
saw
him
...
only
for
an
instant
,
framed
between
the
branches
of
the
trees
as
she
looked
down
at
the
valley
floor
,
yet
she
knew
it
was
him
.
Even
at
a
distance
,
Ser
Jaime
Lannister
was
unmistakable
.
The
moonlight
had
silvered
his
armor
and
the
gold
of
his
hair
,
and
turned
his
crimson
cloak
to
black
.
He
was
not
wearing
a
helm
.
He
was
there
and
he
was
gone
again
,
his
silvery
armor
obscured
by
the
trees
once
more
.
Others
came
behind
him
,
long
columns
of
them
,
knights
and
sworn
swords
and
freeriders
,
three
quarters
of
the
Lannister
horse
.
"
He
is
no
man
for
sitting
in
a
tent
while
his
carpenters
build
siege
towers
,
"
Ser
Brynden
had
promised
.
"
He
has
ridden
out
with
his
knights
thrice
already
,
to
chase
down
raiders
or
storm
a
stubborn
holdfast
.
"
