-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Джордж Мартин
-
- Игра престолов
-
- Стр. 677/751
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
The
crowd
roared
,
and
Arya
felt
the
statue
of
Baelor
rock
as
they
surged
against
it
.
The
High
Septon
clutched
at
the
king
's
cape
,
and
Varys
came
rushing
over
waving
his
arms
,
and
even
the
queen
was
saying
something
to
him
,
but
Joffrey
shook
his
head
.
Lords
and
knights
moved
aside
as
he
stepped
through
,
tall
and
fleshless
,
a
skeleton
in
iron
mail
,
the
King
's
Justice
.
Dimly
,
as
if
from
far
off
,
Arya
heard
her
sister
scream
.
Sansa
had
fallen
to
her
knees
,
sobbing
hysterically
.
Ser
Ilyn
Payne
climbed
the
steps
of
the
pulpit
.
Arya
wriggled
between
Baelor
's
feet
and
threw
herself
into
the
crowd
,
drawing
Needle
.
She
landed
on
a
man
in
a
butcher
's
apron
,
knocking
him
to
the
ground
.
Immediately
someone
slammed
into
her
back
and
she
almost
went
down
herself
.
Bodies
closed
in
around
her
,
stumbling
and
pushing
,
trampling
on
the
poor
butcher
.
Arya
slashed
at
them
with
Needle
.
High
atop
the
pulpit
,
Ser
Ilyn
Payne
gestured
and
the
knight
in
black-and-gold
gave
a
command
.
The
gold
cloaks
flung
Lord
Eddard
to
the
marble
,
with
his
head
and
chest
out
over
the
edge
.
"
Here
,
you
!
"
an
angry
voice
shouted
at
Arya
,
but
she
bowled
past
,
shoving
people
aside
,
squirming
between
them
,
slamming
into
anyone
in
her
way
.
A
hand
fumbled
at
her
leg
and
she
hacked
at
it
,
kicked
at
shins
.
A
woman
stumbled
and
Arya
ran
up
her
back
,
cutting
to
both
sides
,
but
it
was
no
good
,
no
good
,
there
were
too
many
people
,
no
sooner
did
she
make
a
hole
than
it
closed
again
.
Someone
buffeted
her
aside
.
She
could
still
hear
Sansa
screaming
.
Ser
Ilyn
drew
a
two-handed
greatsword
from
the
scabbard
on
his
back
.
As
he
lifted
the
blade
above
his
head
,
sunlight
seemed
to
ripple
and
dance
down
the
dark
metal
,
glinting
off
an
edge
sharper
than
any
razor
.
Ice
,
she
thought
,
he
has
Ice
!
Her
tears
streamed
down
her
face
,
blinding
her
.
And
then
a
hand
shot
out
of
the
press
and
closed
round
her
arm
like
a
wolf
trap
,
so
hard
that
Needle
went
flying
from
her
hand
.
Arya
was
wrenched
off
her
feet
.
She
would
have
fallen
if
he
had
n't
held
her
up
,
as
easy
as
if
she
were
a
doll
.
A
face
pressed
close
to
hers
,
long
black
hair
and
tangled
beard
and
rotten
teeth
.
"
Do
n't
look
!
"
a
thick
voice
snarled
at
her
.
"
I.
.
.
I.
.
.
I.
.
.
"
Arya
sobbed
.
The
old
man
shook
her
so
hard
her
teeth
rattled
.
"
Shut
your
mouth
and
close
your
eyes
,
boy
.
"
Dimly
,
as
if
from
far
away
,
she
heard
a.
.
.
a
noise
...
a
soft
sighing
sound
,
as
if
a
million
people
had
let
out
their
breath
at
once
.
The
old
man
's
fingers
dug
into
her
arm
,
stiff
as
iron
.
"
Look
at
me
.
Yes
,
that
's
the
way
of
it
,
at
me
.
"
Sour
wine
perfumed
his
breath
.
"
Remember
,
boy
?
"
It
was
the
smell
that
did
it
.
Arya
saw
the
matted
greasy
hair
,
the
patched
,
dusty
black
cloak
that
covered
his
twisted
shoulders
,
the
hard
black
eyes
squinting
at
her
.
And
she
remembered
the
black
brother
who
had
come
to
visit
her
father
.
