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- Джордж Мартин
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- Игра престолов
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- Стр. 674/751
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Everyone
was
moving
in
the
same
direction
,
all
in
a
hurry
to
see
what
the
ringing
was
all
about
.
The
bells
seemed
louder
now
,
clanging
,
calling
.
Arya
joined
the
stream
of
people
.
Her
thumb
hurt
so
bad
where
the
nail
had
broken
that
it
was
all
she
could
do
not
to
cry
.
She
bit
her
lip
as
she
limped
along
,
listening
to
the
excited
voices
around
her
.
"
--
the
King
's
Hand
,
Lord
Stark
.
They
're
carrying
him
up
to
Baelor
's
Sept.
"
"
I
heard
he
was
dead
.
"
"
Soon
enough
,
soon
enough
.
Here
,
I
got
me
a
silver
stag
says
they
lop
his
head
off
.
"
"
Past
time
,
the
traitor
.
"
The
man
spat
.
Arya
struggled
to
find
a
voice
.
"
He
never
--
"
she
started
,
but
she
was
only
a
child
and
they
talked
right
over
her
.
"
Fool
!
They
ai
n't
neither
going
to
lop
him
.
Since
when
do
they
knick
traitors
on
the
steps
of
the
Great
Sept
?
"
"
Well
,
they
do
n't
mean
to
anoint
him
no
knight
.
I
heard
it
was
Stark
killed
old
King
Robert
.
Slit
his
throat
in
the
woods
,
and
when
they
found
him
,
he
stood
there
cool
as
you
please
and
said
it
was
some
old
boar
did
for
His
Grace
.
"
"
Ah
,
that
's
not
true
,
it
was
his
own
brother
did
him
,
that
Renly
,
him
with
his
gold
antlers
.
"
"
You
shut
your
lying
mouth
,
woman
.
You
do
n't
know
what
you
're
saying
,
his
lordship
's
a
fine
true
man
.
"