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- Джордж Мартин
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"
You
know
you
are
,
gods
save
us
both
.
"
"
Then
help
me
now
.
"
Ser
Jorah
grimaced
.
"
Would
that
I
knew
how
.
"
Mirri
Maz
Duur
's
voice
rose
to
a
high
,
ululating
wail
that
sent
a
shiver
down
Dany
's
back
.
Some
of
the
Dothraki
began
to
mutter
and
back
away
.
The
tent
was
aglow
with
the
light
of
braziers
within
.
Through
the
blood-spattered
sandsilk
,
she
glimpsed
shadows
moving
.
Mirri
Maz
Duur
was
dancing
,
and
not
alone
.
Dany
saw
naked
fear
on
the
faces
of
the
Dothraki
.
"
This
must
not
be
,
"
Qotho
thundered
.
She
had
not
seen
the
bloodrider
return
.
Haggo
and
Cohollo
were
with
him
.
They
had
brought
the
hairless
men
,
the
eunuchs
who
healed
with
knife
and
needle
and
fire
.
"
This
will
be
,
"
Dany
replied
.
"
Maegi
,
"
Haggo
growled
.
And
old
Cohollo
--
Cohollo
who
had
bound
his
life
to
Drogo
's
on
the
day
of
his
birth
,
Cohollo
who
had
always
been
kind
to
her
--
Cohollo
spat
full
in
her
face
.
"
You
will
die
,
maegi
,
"
Qotho
promised
,
"
but
the
other
must
die
first
.
"
He
drew
his
arakh
and
made
for
the
tent
.
