Feen: переводы

→—his guide, COLDHANDS, clad in black, once perhaps a man of the Night’s Watch, now a mystery,

→—HODOR, a simple lad, seven feet tall,

→—JOJEN REED, her brother, thirteen, cursed with greensight,

→—MEERA REED, a maid of sixteen, daughter of Lord How-land Reed of Greywater Watch,

→—his companions and protectors:

→—BRANDON STARK, called BRAN, Prince of Winterfell and heir to the North, a crippled boy of nine,

→—in the Haunted Forest

→BEYOND THE WALL

→—ROSLIN, his fifth daughter, m. Lord Edmure Tully at the Red Wedding, pregnant with his child,

→—OLYVAR FREY, his eighteenth son, once a squire to Robb Stark,

→—MAESTER WILLAMEN, his seventeenth son, in service at Longbow Hall,

→—{SER BENFREY FREY}, his Walder’s sixteenth son, died of a wound received at the Red Wedding,

→—Jammos’s son, WALDER, called BIG WALDER, eight, a squire in service to Ramsey Bolton,

→THE DRAGONTAMER

→An iron brazier gave the only light. Beside it stood two of the queen’s cupbearers, Draqaz and Qezza. “Miklaz has gone to wake the king,” said Qezza. “May we bring you wine, ser?”

→The woman Ser Barristan glimpsed peering through the archway from behind a gauzy curtain was naked as well, her breasts and hips only partially concealed by the blowing silk.

→It was still a good few moments before King Hizdahr zo Loraq, Fourteenth of That Noble Name, emerged yawning, knotting the sash that closed his robe. The robe was green satin, richly worked with pearls and silver thread. Under it the king was quite naked. That was good. Naked men felt vulnerable and were less inclined to acts of suicidal heroism.

→“You may sit,” said Draqaz, indicating a bench. “I prefer to stand.” He could hear voices drifting through the archway from the bedchamber. One of them was the king’s.

→Dark and windowless, surrounded on all sides by brick walls eight feet thick, the chambers that the king had made his own were large and luxurious within. Great beams of black oak supported the high ceilings. The floors were covered with silk carpets out of Qarth. On the walls were priceless tapestries, ancient and much faded, depicting the glory of the Old Empire of Ghis. The largest of them showed the last survivors of a defeated Valyrian army passing beneath the yoke and being chained. The archway leading to the royal bedchamber was guarded by a pair of sandalwood lovers, shaped and smoothed and oiled. Ser Barristan found them distasteful, though no doubt they were meant to be arousing. The sooner we are gone from this place, the better.

→“Groleo,” Ser Barristan said. “Groleo,” the bull returned. “Third hall to the right.” The rat unlocked the chain. Ser Barristan and his escort stepped through into a narrow, torchlit servants’ corridor of red and black brick. Their footsteps echoed on the floors as they strode past two halls and took the third one to the right.