Оглавление
Джордж Р. Р. Мартин. A Clash of Kings
COPYRIGHT
Dedication
Maps
PROLOGUE
ARYA
SANSA
TYRION
BRAN
ARYA
JON
CATELYN
TYRION
ARYA
DAVOS
THEON
DAENERYS
JON
ARYA
TYRION
BRAN
TYRION
SANSA
ARYA
TYRION
BRAN
CATELYN
JON
THEON
TYRION
ARYA
DAENERYS
BRAN
TYRION
ARYA
CATELYN
SANSA
CATELYN
JON
BRAN
TYRION
THEON
ARYA
CATELYN
DAENERYS
TYRION
DAVOS
JON
TYRION
CATELYN
BRAN
ARYA
DAENERYS
TYRION
THEON
JON
SANSA
JON
TYRION
CATELYN
THEON
SANSA
DAVOS
TYRION
SANSA
TYRION
SANSA
DAENERYS
ARYA
SANSA
THEON
TYRION
JON
BRAN
APPENDIX THE KINGS AND THEIR COURTS
THE KING ON THE IRON THRONE
THE KING IN HIGHGARDEN
THE KING IN THE NARROW SEA
THE KING IN THE NORTH
THE QUEEN ACROSS THE WATER
OTHER HOUSES GREAT AND SMALL
HOUSE LANNISTER
HOUSE TYRELL
HOUSE MARTELL
HOUSE FLORENT
HOUSE GREYJOY
HOUSE ARRYN
HOUSE FREY
THE MEN OF THE NIGHT’S WATCH
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
PRAISE FOR
ABOUT THE PUBLISHER
Отрывок из книги
The comet’s tail spread across the dawn, a red slash that bled above the crags of Dragonstone like a wound in the pink and purple sky.
The maester stood on the windswept balcony outside his chambers. It was here the ravens came, after long flight. Their droppings speckled the gargoyles that rose twelve feet tall on either side of him, a hellhound and a wyvern, two of the thousand that brooded over the walls of the ancient fortress. When first he came to Dragonstone, the army of stone grotesques had made him uneasy, but as the years passed he had grown used to them. Now he thought of them as old friends. The three of them watched the sky together with foreboding.
.....
“It would surprise me if Lord Renly sought counsel, Your Grace.” The youngest of Lord Steffon’s three sons had grown into a man bold but heedless, who acted from impulse rather than calculation. In that, as in so much else, Renly was like his brother Robert, and utterly unlike Stannis.
“Your Grace,” Stannis repeated bitterly. “You mock me with a king’s style, yet what am I king of? Dragonstone and a few rocks in the narrow sea, there is my kingdom.” He descended the steps of his chair to stand before the table, his shadow falling across the mouth of the Blackwater Rush and the painted forest where King’s Landing now stood. There he stood, brooding over the realm he sought to claim, so near at hand and yet so far away. “Tonight I am to dine with my lords bannermen, such as they are. Celtigar, Velaryon, Bar Emmon, the whole paltry lot of them. A poor crop, if truth be told, but they are what my brothers have left me. That Lysene pirate Salladhor Saan will be there with the latest tally of what I owe him, and Morosh the Myrman will caution me with talk of tides and autumn gales, while Lord Sunglass mutters piously of the will of the Seven. Celtigar will want to know which storm lords are joining us. Velaryon will threaten to take his levies home unless we strike at once. What am I to tell them? What must I do now?”
.....
