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- Джордж Мартин
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- Игра престолов
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- Стр. 738/751
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Catelyn
kissed
him
gently
,
smoothed
his
hair
,
and
left
him
there
in
the
shade
of
his
keep
,
with
his
rivers
flowing
beneath
.
He
was
asleep
before
she
left
the
solar
.
When
she
returned
to
the
lower
bailey
,
Ser
Brynden
Tully
stood
on
the
water
stairs
with
wet
boots
,
talking
with
the
captain
of
Riverrun
's
guards
.
He
came
to
her
at
once
.
"
Is
he
--
"
"
Dying
,
"
she
said
.
"
As
we
feared
.
"
Her
uncle
's
craggy
face
showed
his
pain
plain
.
He
ran
his
fingers
through
his
thick
grey
hair
.
"
Will
he
see
me
?
"
She
nodded
.
"
He
says
he
is
too
sick
to
fight
.
"
Brynden
Blackfish
chuckled
.
"
I
am
too
old
a
soldier
to
believe
that
.
Hoster
will
be
chiding
me
about
the
Redwyne
girl
even
as
we
light
his
funeral
pyre
,
damn
his
bones
.
"
Catelyn
smiled
,
knowing
it
was
true
.
"
I
do
not
see
Robb
.
"
"
He
went
with
Greyjoy
to
the
hall
,
I
believe
.
"
Theon
Greyjoy
was
seated
on
a
bench
in
Riverrun
's
Great
Hall
,
enjoying
a
horn
of
ale
and
regaling
her
father
's
garrison
with
an
account
of
the
slaughter
in
the
Whispering
Wood
.
"
Some
tried
to
flee
,
but
we
'd
pinched
the
valley
shut
at
both
ends
,
and
we
rode
out
of
the
darkness
with
sword
and
lance
.
The
Lannisters
must
have
thought
the
Others
themselves
were
on
them
when
that
wolf
of
Robb
's
got
in
among
them
.
I
saw
him
tear
one
man
's
arm
from
his
shoulder
,
and
their
horses
went
mad
at
the
scent
of
him
.
I
could
n't
tell
you
how
many
men
were
thrown
--
"
