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- Джордж Мартин
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- Стр. 737/751
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"
Your
son
,
"
he
whispered
.
"
Yes
.
Cat
's
child
...
he
had
my
eyes
,
I
remember
.
When
he
was
born
.
Bring
him
...
yes
.
"
"
And
your
brother
?
"
Her
father
glanced
out
over
the
rivers
.
"
Blackfish
,
"
he
said
.
"
Has
he
wed
yet
?
Taken
some
...
girl
to
wife
?
"
Even
on
his
deathbed
,
Catelyn
thought
sadly
.
"
He
has
not
wed.
.
You
know
that
,
Father
.
Nor
will
he
ever
.
"
"
I
told
him
...
commanded
him
.
Marry
!
I
was
his
lord
.
He
knows
.
My
right
,
to
make
his
match
.
A
good
match
.
A
Redwyne
.
Old
House
.
Sweet
girl
,
pretty
...
freckles
...
Bethany
,
yes
.
Poor
child
.
Still
waiting
.
Yes
.
Still
...
"
"
Bethany
Redwyne
wed
Lord
Rowan
years
ago
,
"
Catelyn
reminded
him
.
"
She
has
three
children
by
him
.
"
"
Even
so
,
"
Lord
Hoster
muttered
.
"
Even
so
.
Spit
on
the
girl
.
The
Redwynes
.
Spit
on
me
.
His
lord
,
his
brother
...
that
Blackfish
.
I
had
other
offers
.
Lord
Bracken
's
girl
.
Walder
Frey
...
any
of
three
,
he
said
...
Has
he
wed
?
Anyone
?
Anyone
?
"
"
No
one
,
"
Catelyn
said
,
"
yet
he
has
come
many
leagues
to
see
you
,
fighting
his
way
back
to
Riverrun
.
I
would
not
be
here
now
,
if
Ser
Brynden
had
not
helped
us
.
"
"
He
was
ever
a
warrior
,
"
her
father
husked
.
"
That
he
could
do
.
Knight
of
the
Gate
,
yes
.
"
He
leaned
back
and
closed
his
eyes
,
inutterably
weary
.
"
Send
him
.
Later
.
I
'll
sleep
now
.
Too
sick
to
fight
.
Send
him
up
later
,
the
Blackfish
...
"
