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- Джордж Мартин
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- Игра престолов
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- Стр. 675/751
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By
the
time
they
reached
the
Street
of
the
Sisters
,
they
were
packed
in
shoulder
to
shoulder
.
Arya
let
the
human
current
carry
her
along
,
up
to
the
top
of
Visenya
's
Hill
.
The
white
marble
plaza
was
a
solid
mass
of
people
,
all
yammering
excitedly
at
each
other
and
straining
to
get
closer
to
the
Great
Sept
of
Baelor
.
The
bells
were
very
loud
here
.
Arya
squirmed
through
the
press
,
ducking
between
the
legs
of
horses
and
clutching
tight
to
her
sword
stick
.
From
the
middle
of
the
crowd
,
all
she
could
see
were
arms
and
legs
and
stomachs
,
and
the
seven
slender
towers
of
the
sept
looming
overhead
.
She
spotted
a
wood
wagon
and
thought
to
climb
up
on
the
back
where
she
might
be
able
to
see
,
but
others
had
the
same
idea
.
The
teamster
cursed
at
them
and
drove
them
off
with
a
crack
of
his
whip
.
Arya
grew
frantic
.
Forcing
her
way
to
the
front
of
the
crowd
,
she
was
shoved
up
against
the
stone
of
a
plinth
.
She
looked
up
at
Baelor
the
Blessed
,
the
septon
king
.
Sliding
her
stick
sword
through
her
belt
,
Arya
began
to
climb
.
Her
broken
thumbnail
left
smears
of
blood
on
the
painted
marble
,
but
she
made
it
up
,
and
wedged
herself
in
between
the
king
's
feet
.
That
was
when
she
saw
her
father
.
Lord
Eddard
stood
on
the
High
Septon
's
pulpit
outside
the
doors
of
the
sept
,
supported
between
two
of
the
gold
cloaks
.
He
was
dressed
in
a
rich
grey
velvet
doublet
with
a
white
wolf
sewn
on
the
front
in
beads
,
and
a
grey
wool
cloak
trimmed
with
fur
,
but
he
was
thinner
than
Arya
had
ever
seen
him
,
his
long
face
drawn
with
pain
.
He
was
not
standing
so
much
as
being
held
up
;
the
cast
over
his
broken
leg
was
grey
and
rotten
.
The
High
Septon
himself
stood
behind
him
,
a
squat
man
,
grey
with
age
and
ponderously
fat
,
wearing
long
white
robes
and
an
immense
crown
of
spun
gold
and
crystal
that
wreathed
his
head
with
rainbows
whenever
he
moved
.
Clustered
around
the
doors
of
the
sept
,
in
front
of
the
raised
marble
pulpit
,
were
a
knot
of
knights
and
high
lords
.
Joffrey
was
prominent
among
them
,
his
raiment
all
crimson
,
silk
and
satin
patterned
with
prancing
stags
and
roaring
lions
,
a
gold
crown
on
his
head
.
His
queen
mother
stood
beside
him
in
a
black
mourning
gown
slashed
with
crimson
,
a
veil
of
black
diamonds
in
her
hair
.
Arya
recognized
the
Hound
,
wearing
a
snowy
white
cloak
over
his
dark
grey
armor
,
with
four
of
the
Kingsguard
around
him
.
She
saw
Varys
the
eunuch
gliding
among
the
lords
in
soft
slippers
and
a
patterned
damask
robe
,
and
she
thought
the
short
man
with
the
silvery
cape
and
pointed
beard
might
be
the
one
who
had
once
fought
a
duel
for
Mother
.
And
there
in
their
midst
was
Sansa
,
dressed
in
sky-blue
silk
,
with
her
long
auburn
hair
washed
and
curled
and
silver
bracelets
on
her
wrists
.
Arya
scowled
,
wondering
what
her
sister
was
doing
here
,
why
she
looked
so
happy
.
A
long
line
of
gold-cloaked
spearmen
held
back
the
crowd
,
commanded
by
a
stout
man
in
elaborate
armor
,
all
black
lacquer
and
gold
filigree
.
His
cloak
had
the
metallic
shimmer
of
true
cloth-of-gold
.
