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- Джордж Мартин
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"
I
know
that
.
But
there
are
no
three
-
headed
dragons
.
"
"
The
three
heads
were
Aegon
and
his
sisters
.
"
"
Visenya
and
Rhaenys
,
"
she
recalled
.
"
I
am
descended
from
Aegon
and
Rhaenys
through
their
son
Aenys
and
their
grandson
Jaehaerys
.
"
"
Blue
lips
speak
only
lies
,
isn
’
t
that
what
Xaro
told
you
?
Why
do
you
care
what
the
warlocks
whispered
?
All
they
wanted
was
to
suck
the
life
from
you
,
you
know
that
now
.
"
"
Perhaps
,
"
she
said
reluctantly
.
"
Yet
the
things
I
saw
.
.
.
"
"
A
dead
man
in
the
prow
of
a
ship
,
a
blue
rose
,
a
banquet
of
blood
.
.
.
what
does
any
of
it
mean
,
Khaleesi
?
A
mummer
’
s
dragon
,
you
said
.
What
is
a
mummer
’
s
dragon
,
pray
?
"
"
A
cloth
dragon
on
poles
,
"
Dany
explained
.
"
Mummers
use
them
in
their
follies
,
to
give
the
heroes
something
to
fight
.
"
Ser
Jorah
frowned
.
Dany
could
not
let
it
go
.
"
His
is
the
song
of
ice
and
fire
,
my
brother
said
.
I
’
m
certain
it
was
my
brother
.
Not
Viserys
,
Rhaegar
.
He
had
a
harp
with
silver
strings
.
"
