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- Джордж Мартин
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- Игра престолов
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- Стр. 76/751
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Then
for
a
while
the
guards
would
chase
him
whenever
they
saw
him
on
the
roofs
,
and
try
to
haul
him
down
.
That
was
the
best
time
of
all
.
It
was
like
playing
a
game
with
his
brothers
,
except
that
Bran
always
won
.
None
of
the
guards
could
climb
half
so
well
as
Bran
,
not
even
Jory
.
Most
of
the
time
they
never
saw
him
anyway
.
People
never
looked
up
.
That
was
another
thing
he
liked
about
climbing
;
it
was
almost
like
being
invisible
.
He
liked
how
it
felt
too
,
pulling
himself
up
a
wall
stone
by
stone
,
fingers
and
toes
digging
hard
into
the
small
crevices
between
.
He
always
took
off
his
boots
and
went
barefoot
when
he
climbed
;
it
made
him
feel
as
if
he
had
four
hands
instead
of
two
.
He
liked
the
deep
,
sweet
ache
it
left
in
the
muscles
afterward
.
He
liked
the
way
the
air
tasted
way
up
high
,
sweet
and
cold
as
a
winter
peach
.
He
liked
the
birds
:
the
crows
in
the
broken
tower
,
the
tiny
little
sparrows
that
nested
in
cracks
between
the
stones
,
the
ancient
owl
that
slept
in
the
dusty
loft
above
the
old
armory
.
Bran
knew
them
all
.
Most
of
all
,
he
liked
going
places
that
no
one
else
could
go
,
and
seeing
the
grey
sprawl
of
Winterfell
in
a
way
that
no
one
else
ever
saw
it
.
It
made
the
whole
castle
Bran
's
secret
place
.
His
favorite
haunt
was
the
broken
tower
.
Once
it
had
been
a
watchtower
,
the
tallest
in
Winterfell
.
A
long
time
ago
,
a
hundred
years
before
even
his
father
had
been
born
,
a
lightning
strike
had
set
it
afire
.
The
top
third
of
the
structure
had
collapsed
inward
,
and
the
tower
had
never
been
rebuilt
.
Sometimes
his
father
sent
ratters
into
the
base
of
the
tower
,
to
clean
out
the
nests
they
always
found
among
the
jumble
of
fallen
stones
and
charred
and
rotten
beams
.
But
no
one
ever
got
up
to
the
jagged
top
of
the
structure
now
except
for
Bran
and
the
crows
.
He
knew
two
ways
to
get
there
.
You
could
climb
straight
up
the
side
of
the
tower
itself
,
but
the
stones
were
loose
,
the
mortar
that
held
them
together
long
gone
to
ash
,
and
Bran
never
liked
to
put
his
full
weight
on
them
.
The
best
way
was
to
start
from
the
godswood
,
shinny
up
the
tall
sentinel
,
and
cross
over
the
armory
and
the
guards
hall
,
leaping
roof
to
roof
,
barefoot
so
the
guards
would
n't
hear
you
overhead
.
That
brought
you
up
to
the
blind
side
of
the
First
Keep
,
the
oldest
part
of
the
castle
,
a
squat
round
fortress
that
was
taller
than
it
looked
.
Only
rats
and
spiders
lived
there
now
but
the
old
stones
still
made
for
good
climbing
.
You
could
go
straight
up
to
where
the
gargoyles
leaned
out
blindly
over
empty
space
,
and
swing
from
gargoyle
to
gargoyle
,
hand
over
hand
,
around
to
the
north
side
.
From
there
,
if
you
really
stretched
,
you
could
reach
out
and
pull
yourself
over
to
the
broken
tower
where
it
leaned
close
.
The
last
part
was
the
scramble
up
the
blackened
stones
to
the
eyrie
,
no
more
than
ten
feet
,
and
then
the
crows
would
come
round
to
see
if
you
'd
brought
any
corn
.
Bran
was
moving
from
gargoyle
to
gargoyle
with
the
ease
of
long
practice
when
he
heard
the
voices
.
He
was
so
startled
he
almost
lost
his
grip
.
The
First
Keep
had
been
empty
all
his
life
.
"
I
do
not
like
it
,
"
a
woman
was
saying
.
There
was
a
row
of
windows
beneath
him
,
and
the
voice
was
drifting
out
of
the
last
window
on
this
side
.
"
You
should
be
the
Hand
.
"
