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- Джордж Мартин
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Mirri
Maz
Duur
studied
Drogo
,
her
face
still
and
dead
.
"
The
wound
has
festered
.
"
"
This
is
your
work
,
maegi
,
"
Qotho
said
.
Haggo
laid
his
fist
across
Mirri
's
cheek
with
a
meaty
smack
that
drove
her
to
the
ground
.
Then
he
kicked
her
where
she
lay
.
"
Stop
it
!
"
Dany
screamed
.
Qotho
pulled
Haggo
away
,
saying
,
"
Kicks
are
too
merciful
for
a
maegi
.
Take
her
outside
.
We
will
stake
her
to
the
earth
,
to
be
the
mount
of
every
passing
man
.
And
when
they
are
done
with
her
,
the
dogs
will
use
her
as
well
.
Weasels
will
tear
out
her
entrails
and
carrion
crows
feast
upon
her
eyes
.
The
flies
off
the
river
shall
lay
their
eggs
in
her
womb
and
drink
pus
from
the
ruins
of
her
breasts
...
"
He
dug
iron-hard
fingers
into
the
soft
,
wobbly
flesh
under
the
godswife
's
arm
and
hauled
her
to
her
feet
.
"
No
,
"
Dany
said
.
"
I
will
not
have
her
harmed
.
"
Qotho
's
lips
skinned
back
from
his
crooked
brown
teeth
in
a
terrible
mockery
of
a
smile
.
"
No
?
You
say
me
no
?
Better
you
should
pray
that
we
do
not
stake
you
out
beside
your
maegi
.
You
did
this
,
as
much
as
the
other
.
"
Ser
Jorah
stepped
between
them
,
loosening
his
longsword
in
its
scabbard
.
"
Rein
in
your
tongue
,
bloodrider
.
The
princess
is
still
your
khaleesi
.
"
"
Only
while
the
blood-of-my-blood
still
lives
,
"
Qotho
told
the
knight
.
"
When
he
dies
,
she
is
nothing
.
"
Dany
felt
a
tightness
inside
her
.
"
Before
I
was
khaleesi
,
I
was
the
blood
of
the
dragon
.
Ser
Jorah
,
summon
my
khas
.
"
"
No
,
"
said
Qotho
.
"
We
will
go
.
For
now
...
Khaleesi
.
"
Haggo
followed
him
from
the
tent
,
scowling
.
