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- Авторы
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- Джордж Мартин
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- Игра престолов
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- Стр. 669/751
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The
tarts
were
still
warm
from
the
oven
.
The
smells
were
making
her
mouth
water
,
but
she
did
not
have
three
coppers
...
or
one
.
She
gave
the
pushcart
man
a
look
,
remembering
what
Syrio
had
told
her
about
seeing
.
He
was
short
,
with
a
little
round
belly
,
and
when
he
moved
he
seemed
to
favor
his
left
leg
a
little
.
She
was
just
thinking
that
if
she
snatched
a
tart
and
ran
he
would
never
be
able
to
catch
her
when
he
said
,
"
You
be
keepin
'
your
filthy
hands
off
.
The
gold
cloaks
know
how
to
deal
with
thieving
little
gutter
rats
,
that
they
do
.
"
Arya
glanced
warily
behind
her
.
Two
of
the
City
Watch
were
standing
at
the
mouth
of
an
alley
.
Their
cloaks
hung
almost
to
the
ground
,
the
heavy
wool
dyed
a
rich
gold
;
their
mail
and
boots
and
gloves
were
black
.
One
wore
a
longsword
at
his
hip
,
the
other
an
iron
cudgel
.
With
a
last
wistful
glance
at
the
tarts
,
Arya
edged
back
from
the
cart
and
hurried
off
.
The
gold
cloaks
had
not
been
paying
her
any
special
attention
,
but
the
sight
of
them
tied
her
stomach
in
knots
.
Arya
had
been
staying
as
far
from
the
castle
as
she
could
get
,
yet
even
from
a
distance
she
could
see
the
heads
rotting
atop
the
high
red
walls
.
Flocks
of
crows
squabbled
noisily
over
each
head
,
thick
as
flies
.
The
talk
in
Flea
Bottom
was
that
the
gold
cloaks
had
thrown
in
with
the
Lannisters
,
their
commander
raised
to
a
lord
,
with
lands
on
the
Trident
and
a
seat
on
the
king
's
council
.
She
had
also
heard
other
things
,
scary
things
,
things
that
made
no
sense
to
her
.
Some
said
her
father
had
murdered
King
Robert
and
been
slain
in
turn
by
Lord
Renly
.
Others
insisted
that
Renly
had
killed
the
king
in
a
drunken
quarrel
between
brothers
.
Why
else
should
he
have
fled
in
the
night
like
a
common
thief
?
One
story
said
the
king
had
been
killed
by
a
boar
while
hunting
,
another
that
he
'd
died
eating
a
boar
,
stuffing
himself
so
full
that
he
'd
ruptured
at
the
table
.
No
,
the
king
had
died
at
table
,
others
said
,
but
only
because
Varys
the
Spider
poisoned
him
.
No
,
it
had
been
the
queen
who
poisoned
him
.
No
,
he
had
died
of
a
pox
.
No
,
he
had
choked
on
a
fish
bone
.
One
thing
all
the
stories
agreed
on
:
King
Robert
was
dead
.
The
bells
in
the
seven
towers
of
the
Great
Sept
of
Baelor
had
tolled
for
a
day
and
a
night
,
the
thunder
of
their
grief
rolling
across
the
city
in
a
bronze
tide
.
They
only
rang
the
bells
like
that
for
the
death
of
a
king
,
a
tanner
's
boy
told
Arya
.
All
she
wanted
was
to
go
home
,
but
leaving
King
's
Landing
was
not
so
easy
as
she
had
hoped
.
Talk
of
war
was
on
every
lip
,
and
gold
cloaks
were
as
thick
on
the
city
walls
as
fleas
on
...
well
,
her
,
for
one
.
She
had
been
sleeping
in
Flea
Bottom
,
on
rooftops
and
in
stables
,
wherever
she
could
find
a
place
to
lie
down
,
and
it
had
n't
taken
her
long
to
learn
that
the
district
was
well
named
.
Every
day
since
her
escape
from
the
Red
Keep
,
Arya
had
visited
each
of
the
seven
city
gates
in
turn
.
The
Dragon
Gate
,
the
Lion
Gate
,
and
the
Old
Gate
were
closed
and
barred
.
The
Mud
Gate
and
the
Gate
of
the
Gods
were
open
,
but
only
to
those
who
wanted
to
enter
the
city
;
the
guards
let
no
one
out
.
Those
who
were
allowed
to
leave
left
by
the
King
's
Gate
or
the
Iron
Gate
,
but
Lannister
men-at-arms
in
crimson
cloaks
and
lion-crested
helms
manned
the
guard
posts
there
.
Spying
down
from
the
roof
of
an
inn
by
the
King
's
Gate
,
Arya
saw
them
searching
wagons
and
carriages
,
forcing
riders
to
open
their
saddlebags
,
and
questioning
everyone
who
tried
to
pass
on
foot
.
Sometimes
she
thought
about
swimming
the
river
,
but
the
Blackwater
Rush
was
wide
and
deep
,
and
everyone
agreed
that
its
currents
were
wicked
and
treacherous
.
She
had
no
coin
to
pay
a
ferryman
or
take
passage
on
a
ship
.
