"George R. R. Martin - A Song of Ice and Fire 4 - A Feast for Crows" - читать интересную книгу автора (Martin George R R)

"Only in details." Mollander grew more stubborn when he drank, and even when
sober he was bullheaded. "All speak of dragons, and a beautiful young queen."

The only dragon Pate cared about was made of yellow gold. He wondered what
had happened to the alchemist. The third day. He said he'd he here.

"There's another apple near your foot," Alleras called to Mollander, "and I
still have two arrows in my quiver."

"Fuck your quiver." Mollander scooped up the windfall. This one's wormy." he
complained, but he threw it any/way. The arrow caught the apple as it began to
fall and sliced it clean in two. One half landed on a turret roof, tumbled to a
lower roof, bounced, and missed Armen by a foot. "If you cut a worm in two. you
make two worms," the acolyte informed them.

"If only it worked that way with apples, no one would ever need go hungry."
said Alleras with one of his soft smiles. The Sphinx was always smiling, as if
he knew some secret jape. It gave him a wicked look that went well with his
pointed chin, widow's peak, and dense mat of close-cropped jet-black curls.

Alleras would make a maester. He had only been at the Citadel for a year, yet
already he had forged three links of his maester's chain. Armen might have
more, but each of his had taken him a year to earn. Still, he would make a
maester too. Rooneand Mollander remained pink-necked novices, but Roone was
very young and Mollander preferred drinking to reading.

Pate, though . . .

He had been five years at the Citadel, arriving when he was no more than
three-and-ten, yet his neck remained as pink as it had been on the day he first
arrived from the westerlands. Twice had he believed himself ready. The first
time he had gone before Archmaester Vaellyn to demonstrate his knowledge of the
heavens. Instead he learned how Vinegar Vaelhn had earned that name. It took
Pate two years to summon up the courage to try again. This time he submitted
himself to kindly old Archmaester F.brose, renowned for his soft voice and
gentle hands, but Ebrose's sighs had somehow proved just as painful as
Vaellyn's barbs.

"One last apple," promised Alleras. "and I will tell you what I suspect about
these dragons."

"What could you know that I don't?" grumbled Mollander. He spied



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GEORGE R. R. MARTIN