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- Джордж Мартин
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"
Then
tell
us
.
"
"
Perhaps
I
should
withdraw
,
"
Maester
Luwin
said
.
"
No
,
"
Catelyn
said
.
"
We
will
need
your
counsel
.
"
She
threw
back
the
furs
and
climbed
from
the
bed
.
The
night
air
was
as
cold
as
the
grave
on
her
bare
skin
as
she
padded
across
the
room
.
Maester
Luwin
averted
his
eyes
.
Even
Ned
looked
shocked
.
"
What
are
you
doing
?
"
he
asked
.
"
Lighting
a
fire
,
"
Catelyn
told
him
.
She
found
a
dressing
gown
and
shrugged
into
it
,
then
knelt
over
the
cold
hearth
.
"
Maester
Luwin
--
"
Ned
began
.
"
Maester
Luwin
has
delivered
all
my
children
,
"
Catelyn
said
.
"
This
is
no
time
for
false
modesty
.
"
She
slid
the
paper
in
among
the
kindling
and
placed
the
heavier
logs
on
top
of
it
.
Ned
crossed
the
room
,
took
her
by
the
arm
,
and
pulled
her
to
her
feet
.
He
held
her
there
,
his
face
inches
from
her
.
"
My
lady
,
tell
me
!
What
was
this
message
?
"
Catelyn
stiffened
in
his
grasp
.
"
A
warning
,
"
she
said
softly
.
"
If
we
have
the
wits
to
hear
.
"
