Najzad je martin zavrsio 4. nastavak.
Na site-u http://www.georgerrmartin.com/ je izasla ta informacija tako da za koji mesec mozemo da ocekujemo u knjizarama nastavak fantasticne sage.
:D :D
A Feast for a Crows - martinov 4. deo
Moderator: Moderators
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Grim Reaper
- Posts: 11
- Joined: Wed May 11, 2005 8:30 pm
- Location: BG
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Violet_Faerie
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Alukard
Bash tako... lol, aj sad svi vi odozgo u biblioteke da nadjete "Letopis tomasa Kovenanta nevernika" :lol: I ti Raziele i ti... umesto MCa, ti ovako...
A verovao sam mu kao bratu, sto znaci nimalo...
Chuck Norris can touch MC Hammer
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Chuck Norris can touch MC Hammer
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Bobbisha wrote: Njemu bi zena trebala samo da sklanja sve ove pixle i knjige koje ostavlja u klonji
Ma cuj da li drhtim?? Jedva sam se susdrzao da je ne citam do sada - mada sam "bacio pogled". Od starkovih izgleda da samo Araja ima svoja poglavlja u ovoj knjizi.
Samo se nadam da cu videti sta se desava sa jednim od mojih velikih idola - Blackfish(om)!!
No videcemo, a spojleri ce uslediti
Samo se nadam da cu videti sta se desava sa jednim od mojih velikih idola - Blackfish(om)!!
No videcemo, a spojleri ce uslediti
Last edited by Ota on Sat Nov 12, 2005 5:05 am, edited 1 time in total.
Djenrale uzalud te traze,
cuvaju te sve bozije straze.
cuvaju te sve bozije straze.
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Slartibartfast
- Posts: 933
- Joined: Sat Mar 13, 2004 9:31 pm
- Location: Beograd
Evo malo SPOJLERA iz poslednje Martinove knjige - mada su verovatno vec stigle tu!!
…”Lord Commander?” A guardsman stood in the open door. “Lady Westerling and her daughter are without, as you commanded.”
Jaime showed the map aside: “Show them in.” At least the girl did not vanish too. Jayne Westerling had been Robb Stark’s queen, the girl who cost him everything. With a wolf in her belly, she could have proved more dangerous then the Blackfish.
She did not look dangerous. Jayne was a willowy girl, no more then fifteen or sixteen, more awkward then gracefull. She had narrow hips, breasts the size of apples, a mop of chestnut curls, and the soft brown eyes of a doe. Pretty enough for a child, Jamie decded, but not a girl to loose kingdom for. Her face was puffy, and there was scab on her forehead, half-hidden by a lock of brown hear. “What happened there?” he asked her.
The girl turned her head away. “It is nothing,” insisted her mother, a stern-faced woman in gown of green velvet. A necklace of golden seashells looped about her long thin neck. “She would not give up the little crown the rebel gave her, and when I tried to take it from her head willful child fought me.”
“It was mine.” Jayne sobbed. “You had no right. Robb had it made for me. I lowed him.”
Her mother made to slap her, but Jamie stepped between them. “None of that,” he warned Lady Sybelll. “Sit down, both of you.” The girl curled up in her chair like frightened animal, but her mother sat stiffly, her head high. “Will you have wine?” he asked them. The girl did not answer. “No thank you,” said her mother.
“As you will.” Jaime turned to the daughter. “I am sorry for your loss. The boy had courage, I’ll give him that. There is question I must ask you. Are you carrying his chield, my lady?”
Jayne burst from her chair and would have fled the room if guard at the door had not seized her by the arm. “She is not,” said Lady Sybell, as her daughter struggled to escape. “I made certain of that, as your lord father bid me.”
Jaime nodded. Tywin Lannister was not a man to overlook such details. “Unhand the girl,” he said, “I’m done with her for now.” As Jeyne fled sobbing down the stairs, he considered her mother. “House Westerling has its pardon, and your brother Ralph has been made Lord of Castamere. What else would you have of us?”
“Your lord father promised me worthy marriages for Jeyne and her young sister. Lords or hairs, he swore to me, not younger sons nor household knights.”
Lords or hairs. To be sure. The Westerlings were an old House, and proud, but Lady Sybell herself had been born a Spicer, from a line of up-jumped merchants. Her grandmother had been some sort of half-mad witch woman from the east, he seemed to recall. And the Westerlings were impoverished. Younger sons would have been best that Sybell Spicer’s daughters could have hoped for in the ordinary course of events, but a nice fatpot of Lannister gold would make even a dead rebel’s widow look attractive to some lord. “You’ll have your marriages,” said Jaime, ”but Jeyne must wait two full years before she weds again.” If the girl took another husband too soon and had child with him, inevitably there would come whispers that Young Wolf was the father.
“I have two sons as well,” Lady Westerling reminded him. “Rollam is with me, but Raynald was a knight and went with rebels to the Twins. If I had known what was to happen there, I would never have allowed that.” There was a hint of reproach in her
voice. “Raynald knew nought of any… of the understanding with your lord father.He may be captive at the Twins.”
Or he may be dead. Walder Fray would not have known of the understanding eather. “I will make inquiries. If Ser Raynald is still captive, we’ll pay his ransom for you.”
“Mention was made of a match for him as well. A bride from Casterly Rock. Your lord father said that Raynald should have joy of him, if all went as we hoped.”
Even from grave, Lord Tywin’s dead hand moves us all. “Joy is my late uncle’s Gerion’s natural daughter. A betrothal can be arranged, if that is your wish, but any marriage will need to wait. Joy was nine or ten when last I saw her.”
“His natural daughter?” Lady Sybell looked as if she had swallowed a lemon. “You want Westerling to wed a bastard?”
“No more then I want Joy to marry son of some scheming turncloak bitch. She deserves better.” Jaim would happily have strangled the woman with her seashell necklace . Joy was a sweet child, albeit a lonely one; her father had been Jaime’s favorite uncle.
“Your daughter is worth ten of you, my lady. You’ll leave with Edmure and Ser Forley on the morrow. Untill than you would do well to stay out of my sight.” ….
…”Lord Commander?” A guardsman stood in the open door. “Lady Westerling and her daughter are without, as you commanded.”
Jaime showed the map aside: “Show them in.” At least the girl did not vanish too. Jayne Westerling had been Robb Stark’s queen, the girl who cost him everything. With a wolf in her belly, she could have proved more dangerous then the Blackfish.
She did not look dangerous. Jayne was a willowy girl, no more then fifteen or sixteen, more awkward then gracefull. She had narrow hips, breasts the size of apples, a mop of chestnut curls, and the soft brown eyes of a doe. Pretty enough for a child, Jamie decded, but not a girl to loose kingdom for. Her face was puffy, and there was scab on her forehead, half-hidden by a lock of brown hear. “What happened there?” he asked her.
The girl turned her head away. “It is nothing,” insisted her mother, a stern-faced woman in gown of green velvet. A necklace of golden seashells looped about her long thin neck. “She would not give up the little crown the rebel gave her, and when I tried to take it from her head willful child fought me.”
“It was mine.” Jayne sobbed. “You had no right. Robb had it made for me. I lowed him.”
Her mother made to slap her, but Jamie stepped between them. “None of that,” he warned Lady Sybelll. “Sit down, both of you.” The girl curled up in her chair like frightened animal, but her mother sat stiffly, her head high. “Will you have wine?” he asked them. The girl did not answer. “No thank you,” said her mother.
“As you will.” Jaime turned to the daughter. “I am sorry for your loss. The boy had courage, I’ll give him that. There is question I must ask you. Are you carrying his chield, my lady?”
Jayne burst from her chair and would have fled the room if guard at the door had not seized her by the arm. “She is not,” said Lady Sybell, as her daughter struggled to escape. “I made certain of that, as your lord father bid me.”
Jaime nodded. Tywin Lannister was not a man to overlook such details. “Unhand the girl,” he said, “I’m done with her for now.” As Jeyne fled sobbing down the stairs, he considered her mother. “House Westerling has its pardon, and your brother Ralph has been made Lord of Castamere. What else would you have of us?”
“Your lord father promised me worthy marriages for Jeyne and her young sister. Lords or hairs, he swore to me, not younger sons nor household knights.”
Lords or hairs. To be sure. The Westerlings were an old House, and proud, but Lady Sybell herself had been born a Spicer, from a line of up-jumped merchants. Her grandmother had been some sort of half-mad witch woman from the east, he seemed to recall. And the Westerlings were impoverished. Younger sons would have been best that Sybell Spicer’s daughters could have hoped for in the ordinary course of events, but a nice fatpot of Lannister gold would make even a dead rebel’s widow look attractive to some lord. “You’ll have your marriages,” said Jaime, ”but Jeyne must wait two full years before she weds again.” If the girl took another husband too soon and had child with him, inevitably there would come whispers that Young Wolf was the father.
“I have two sons as well,” Lady Westerling reminded him. “Rollam is with me, but Raynald was a knight and went with rebels to the Twins. If I had known what was to happen there, I would never have allowed that.” There was a hint of reproach in her
voice. “Raynald knew nought of any… of the understanding with your lord father.He may be captive at the Twins.”
Or he may be dead. Walder Fray would not have known of the understanding eather. “I will make inquiries. If Ser Raynald is still captive, we’ll pay his ransom for you.”
“Mention was made of a match for him as well. A bride from Casterly Rock. Your lord father said that Raynald should have joy of him, if all went as we hoped.”
Even from grave, Lord Tywin’s dead hand moves us all. “Joy is my late uncle’s Gerion’s natural daughter. A betrothal can be arranged, if that is your wish, but any marriage will need to wait. Joy was nine or ten when last I saw her.”
“His natural daughter?” Lady Sybell looked as if she had swallowed a lemon. “You want Westerling to wed a bastard?”
“No more then I want Joy to marry son of some scheming turncloak bitch. She deserves better.” Jaim would happily have strangled the woman with her seashell necklace . Joy was a sweet child, albeit a lonely one; her father had been Jaime’s favorite uncle.
“Your daughter is worth ten of you, my lady. You’ll leave with Edmure and Ser Forley on the morrow. Untill than you would do well to stay out of my sight.” ….
Djenrale uzalud te traze,
cuvaju te sve bozije straze.
cuvaju te sve bozije straze.
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Ko, jel' ja?
- Posts: 1974
- Joined: Fri Dec 02, 2005 1:50 pm
- Location: ovde
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Ko, jel' ja?
- Posts: 1974
- Joined: Fri Dec 02, 2005 1:50 pm
- Location: ovde
Covek se toliko raspisao da nije sve moglo da stane u jednu knjigu pa je sve to podelio u dve. Tako se neki likovi ne pojavljuju u jednoj ali se pojavljuju u drugoj knjizi koja jos nije izasla (u prevodu, nacekaces se ti za Tiriona).gile wrote:Knjiga je zivo ******....
Pa za ime Bozije gdje je TIRION????
Glupost.....