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- Джордж Мартин
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- Игра престолов
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- Стр. 678/751
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"
Know
me
now
,
do
you
?
There
's
a
bright
boy
.
"
He
spat
.
"
They
're
done
here
.
You
'll
be
coming
with
me
,
and
you
'll
be
keeping
your
mouth
shut
.
"
When
she
started
to
reply
,
he
shook
her
again
,
even
harder
.
"
Shut
,
I
said
.
"
The
plaza
was
beginning
to
empty
.
The
press
dissolved
around
them
as
people
drifted
back
to
their
lives
.
But
Arya
's
life
was
gone
.
Numb
,
she
trailed
along
beside
...
Yoren
,
yes
,
his
name
is
Yoren
.
She
did
not
recall
him
finding
Needle
,
until
he
handed
the
sword
back
to
her
.
"
Hope
you
can
use
that
,
boy
"
"
I
'm
not
--
"
she
started
.
He
shoved
her
into
a
doorway
,
thrust
dirty
fingers
through
her
hair
,
and
gave
it
a
twist
,
yanking
her
head
back
.
"
--
not
a
smart
boy
,
that
what
you
mean
to
say
?
"
He
had
a
knife
in
his
other
hand
.
As
the
blade
flashed
toward
her
face
,
Arya
threw
herself
backward
,
kicking
wildly
,
wrenching
her
head
from
side
to
side
,
but
he
had
her
by
the
hair
,
so
strong
,
she
could
feel
her
scalp
tearing
,
and
on
her
lips
the
salt
taste
of
tears
.
The
oldest
were
men
grown
,
seventeen
and
eighteen
years
from
the
day
of
their
naming
.
One
was
past
twenty
.
Most
were
younger
,
sixteen
or
less
.
Bran
watched
them
from
the
balcony
of
Maester
Luwin
's
turret
,
listening
to
them
grunt
and
strain
and
curse
as
they
swung
their
staves
and
wooden
swords
.
The
yard
was
alive
to
the
clack
of
wood
on
wood
,
punctuated
all
too
often
by
thwacks
and
yowls
of
pain
when
a
blow
struck
leather
or
flesh
.
Ser
Rodrik
strode
among
the
boys
,
face
reddening
beneath
his
white
whiskers
,
muttering
at
them
one
and
all
.
Bran
had
never
seen
the
old
knight
look
so
fierce
.
"
No
,
"
he
kept
saying
.
"
No
.
No
.
No
.
"
"
They
do
n't
fight
very
well
,
"
Bran
said
dubiously
.
He
scratched
Summer
idly
behind
the
ears
as
the
direwolf
tore
at
a
haunch
of
meat
.
Bones
crunched
between
his
teeth
.
"
For
a
certainty
,
"
Maester
Luwin
agreed
with
a
deep
sigh
.
The
maester
was
peering
through
his
big
Myrish
lens
tube
,
measuring
shadows
and
noting
the
position
of
the
comet
that
hung
low
in
the
morning
sky
.
"
Yet
given
time
...
Ser
Rodrik
has
the
truth
of
it
,
we
need
men
to
walk
the
walls
.
Your
lord
father
took
the
cream
of
his
guard
to
King
's
Landing
,
and
your
brother
took
the
rest
,
along
with
all
the
likely
lads
for
leagues
around
.
Many
will
not
come
back
to
us
,
and
we
must
needs
find
the
men
to
take
their
places
.
"
