"George R. R. Martin - Ice and Fire 4 - Arms of the Kraken" - читать интересную книгу автора (Martin George R R)

whose holy sea I stand."


The horsemen exchanged a look. "Tell him," said The Sparr, and the youth in the red cloak summoned up his courage. "The
king is dead," he said, as plain as that. Four small words, yet the sea itself trembled when he uttered them.


Four kings there were in Westeros, yet Aeron did not need to ask which one was meant. Balon Greyjoy ruled the Iron Islands,
and no other. The king is dead. How can that be? Aeron had seen his eldest brother not a moon's turn past, when he had
returned to the Iron Islands from harrying the Stony Store. Balon's grey hair had gone half white whilst the priest had been
away, and the stoop in his shoulders was more pronounced than when the long-ships sailed. Yet all in all the king had not
seemed ill.




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 George R.R. Martin - Arms of the Kraken (A Song of Ice and Fire Book 4 Novella).htm

Aeron Greyjoy had built his life upon two mighty pillars. Those four small words had knocked one down. Only the Drowned
God remains to me. May he make me as strong and tireless as the sea. "Tell me the manner of my brother's death."


"His Grace was crossing a bridge at Pyke when he fell, and was dashed upon the rocks below."


The Greyjoy stronghold stood upon broken headland, its keeps and towers built atop massive stone stacks that thrust up
from the sea. Bridges knottei Pyke together; arched bridges of carved stone, and swaying spans of hempen rope and
wooden planks. "Wa; the storm raging when he fell?" Aeron demanded of them,


"Aye," the youth said, "if was."


"The Storm God cast him down," the priest announced. For a thousand thou sand years sea and sky had been at war. From
the sea had come the iron-born, and the fish that sustained them even in the depths of winter, but storms brought only woe
and grief. "My brother Balon made us great again, which earned the Storm God's wrath. He feasts now in the Drowned God's
watery halls, with mermaids to attend his every want. It shall be for u: who remain behind in this dry and dismal vale to finish
his great work." He pushed the cork back into his waterskit "I shall speak with your lord father. How far from here to
Hammerhorn?"


"Six leagues. You may ride pillion with me."


"One can ride faster than two. Give me your horse, and the Drowned God will bless you."


"Take my horse, Damphair," offered Steffarion Sparr.