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busyba
busyba

2017年07月03日

water and scrub

water and scrub
“If you can spare it, we won’t say no,” Tom conceded. “Now when did you ever say no
to anything, Tom?” the woman hooted. “I’ll roast some mutton for your friends, and an old dry rat for you. It’s more than you deserve, but if you gargle me a song or three, might be I’ll weaken. I always pity the afflicted. Come on, come on. Cass, Lanna, put some kettles on. Jyzene, help me get the clothes off them, we’ll
need to boil those too.” She made good on all her threats. Arya tried to tell them that she’d been bathed twice at Acorn Hall, not a fortnight past, but the red-
haired woman was having none of it. Two serving wenches carried her up the stairs bodily, arguing about whether she was a girl or a boy. The one called Helly won, so
the other had to fetch the hot Arya’s back with a stiff bristly brush that almost took her skin off. Then they stole all the clothes that Lady formaldehydeSmallwood had given her and dressed her up like one of Sansa’s dolls in linen and lace. But at least when they were done she got to go down and eat. As she sat in
the common room in her stupid girl clothes, Arya remembered what Syrio Forel had told her, the trick of looking and seeing what was there. When she looked, she saw
more serving wenches than any inn could want, and most of them young and comely. And come evenfall, lots of men started coming and going at the Peach. They did not
linger long in the common room, not even when Tom took out his woodharp and began to sing “Six Maids in a Pool.” The wooden steps were old and steep, and creaked
something fierce whenever one of the men took a girl upstairs. “I bet this is a brothel,” she whispered to Gendry. “You don’t even know what a brothel is.” “I
do so,” she insisted. “It’s like an inn, with girls.” He was turning red again. “What are you doing here, then?” he demanded. “A brothel’s no fit place for
no bloody highborn lady, everybody knows that.” One of the girls sat down on the bench beside him. “Who’s a highborn lady? The little skinny one?” She looked at HKBU BBA
Arya and laughed. “I’m a king’s daughter myself.” Arya knew she was being mocked. “You are not.” “Well, I might be.” When the girl shrugged, her gown
slipped off one shoulder. “They say King Robert, back before the battle. Not that he didn’t have all the other girls too, but
Leslyn says he liked my ma the best.” The girl did have hair like the old king’s, Arya thought; a great thick mop of it, as black as coal. That doesn’t mean
anything, though. Gendry has the same kind of hair too. Lots of people have black hair. “I’m named Bella,” the girl told Gendry. “For the battle. I bet I could
ring your bell, too. You want to?” “No,” he said gruffly. “I bet you do.” She ran a hand along his arm. “I don’t cost nothing to friends of Thoros and the
lightning lord.” “No, I said.” Gendry rose abruptly and stalked away from the table out into the night. Bella turned to Arya. “Don’t he like girls?” Arya
shrugged. “He’s just stupid. He likes to polish helmets and beat on swords with hammers.”


Posted by busyba at 13:27│Comments(0)
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