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- Джордж Мартин
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- Стр. 84/751
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Tyrion
hit
him
again
.
Now
both
cheeks
flamed
.
"
You
tell
your
mother
,
"
Tyrion
told
him
.
"
But
first
you
get
yourself
to
Lord
and
Lady
Stark
,
and
you
fall
to
your
knees
in
front
of
them
,
and
you
tell
them
how
very
sorry
you
are
,
and
that
you
are
at
their
service
if
there
is
the
slightest
thing
you
can
do
for
them
or
theirs
in
this
desperate
hour
,
and
that
all
your
prayers
go
with
them
.
Do
you
understand
?
Do
you
?
"
The
boy
looked
as
though
he
was
going
to
cry
.
Instead
,
he
managed
a
weak
nod
.
Then
he
turned
and
fled
headlong
from
the
yard
,
holding
his
cheek
.
Tyrion
watched
him
run
.
A
shadow
fell
across
his
face
.
He
turned
to
find
Clegane
looming
overhead
like
a
cliff
.
His
soot-dark
armor
seemed
to
blot
out
the
sun
.
He
had
lowered
the
visor
on
his
helm
.
It
was
fashioned
in
the
likeness
of
a
snarling
black
hound
,
fearsome
to
behold
,
but
Tyrion
had
always
thought
it
a
great
improvement
over
Clegane
's
hideously
burned
face
.
"
The
prince
will
remember
that
,
little
lord
,
"
the
Hound
warned
him
.
The
helm
turned
his
laugh
into
a
hollow
rumble
.
"
I
pray
he
does
,
"
Tyrion
Lannister
replied
.
"
If
he
forgets
,
be
a
good
dog
and
remind
him
.
"
He
glanced
around
the
courtyard
.
"
Do
you
know
where
I
might
find
my
brother
?
"
"
Breaking
fast
with
the
queen
.
"
"
Ah
,
"
Tyrion
said
.
He
gave
Sandor
Clegane
a
perfunctory
nod
and
walked
away
as
briskly
as
his
stunted
legs
would
carry
him
,
whistling
.
He
pitied
the
first
knight
to
try
the
Hound
today
.
The
man
did
have
a
temper
.
A
cold
,
cheerless
meal
had
been
laid
out
in
the
morning
room
of
the
Guest
House
.
Jaime
sat
at
table
with
Cersei
and
the
children
,
talking
in
low
,
hushed
voices
.
"
Is
Robert
still
abed
?
"
Tyrion
asked
as
he
seated
himself
,
uninvited
,
at
the
table
.
