TYRION
31 提利昂
As he stood in the predawn chill watching Chiggen butcher his horse, Tyrion Lannister chalked up one more debt owed the Starks. Steam rose from inside the carcass when the squat sellsword opened the belly with his skinning knife. His hands moved deftly, with never a wasted cut; the work had to be done quickly, before the stink of blood brought shadowcats down from the heights.
提利昂·兰尼斯特站在天光未现的清冷晓色里，看着契根宰杀他的坐骑，暗暗在心里把史塔克家欠他的债再添上一笔。那佣兵用剥皮的刀割开马肚，蒸汽立刻从尸骸里冒出。他两手并用，熟练操作，一刀也不浪费。这事本当迅速完成，以免山上的影子山猫嗅到血腥闻香而来。
“None of us will go hungry tonight,” Bronn said. He was near a shadow himself; bone thin and bone hard, with black eyes and black hair and a stubble of beard.
“今晚咱们都不会挨饿了。”波隆道。他瘦得像骨头一样，也坚毅得像骨头，黑眼黑发，加上短短的胡子，活像是团黑影。
“Some of us may,” Tyrion told him. “I am not fond of eating horse. Particularly my horse.”
“不见得。”提利昂告诉他。“我可对马肉没兴趣，尤其没兴趣吃自己的马。”
“Meat is meat,” Bronn said with a shrug. “The Dothraki like horse more than beef or pork.”
“反正都是肉，”波隆耸肩道，“跟牛肉和猪肉相比，多斯拉克人还更爱马肉呢。”
“Do you take me for a Dothraki?” Tyrion asked sourly. The Dothraki ate horse, in truth; they also left deformed children out for the feral dogs who ran behind their khalasars. Dothraki customs had scant appeal for him.
“你觉得我像多斯拉克人吗？”提利昂冷冷地说。多斯拉克人吃马肉是千真万确的事，他们还放任畸形儿自生自灭，留给跟在卡拉萨后面的野狗吃。他们的习俗委实不怎么吸引他。
Chiggen sliced a thin strip of bloody meat off the carcass and held it up for inspection. “Want a taste, dwarf?”
契根从马尸上割下一薄片血淋淋的肉，举在半空中仔细瞧看。“矮个子，要不要先来一口？”
“My brother Jaime gave me that mare for my twenty-third name day,” Tyrion said in a flat voice.
“这匹母马是我老哥詹姆送给我的二十三岁命名日礼物。”提利昂用平板的口气说。
“Thank him for us, then. If you ever see him again.” Chiggen grinned, showing yellow teeth, and swallowed the raw meat in two bites. “Tastes well bred.”
“那如果你还能活着见到他，代我们道声谢。”契根嘻嘻一笑，露出满嘴黄牙，然后两口就把那块生肉吞下肚去。“这马挺不错。”
“Better if you fry it up with onions,” Bronn put in.
“配洋葱煎着吃更棒。”波隆建议。
Wordlessly, Tyrion limped away. The cold had settled deep in his bones, and his legs were so sore he could scarcely walk. Perhaps his dead mare was the lucky one. He had hours more riding ahead of him, followed by a few mouthfuls of food and a short, cold sleep on hard ground, and then another night of the same, and another, and another, and the gods only knew how it would end. “Damn her,” he muttered as he struggled up the road to rejoin his captors, remembering, “damn her and all the Starks.”
提利昂一言不发，跛着脚走开。他只觉寒意彻骨，两腿酸痛得几乎无法走动。或许他的母马死了反而幸运，因为他自己还有得走咧。每天晚上吃点东西，在坚硬又寒冷的岩地上小睡片刻，便又上路，如此日复一日，只有天上诸神知道何时才是尽头。“去她的，”他喃喃道，一边挣扎着上坡回到绑架他的人身边，一边忆起发生过的事。“姓史塔克的都该死。”
The memory was still bitter. One moment he’d been ordering supper, and an eye blink later he was facing a room of armed men, with Jyck reaching for a sword and the fat innkeep shrieking, “No swords, not here, please, m’lords.”
之前的经过，现在回想起来，依然很不好受。前一秒他才刚点晚餐，一眨眼全屋子的人却都拔刀相向，杰克也准备抽出武器，肥胖的老板娘则尖叫道：“各位大人，求求你们别在这儿动刀动枪。”
Tyrion wrenched down Jyck’s arm hurriedly, before he got them both hacked to pieces. “Where are your courtesies, Jyck? Our good hostess said no swords. Do as she asks.” He forced a smile that must have looked as queasy as it felt. “You’re making a sad mistake, Lady Stark. I had no part in any attack on your son. On my honor...”
提利昂赶在他们两个一起被剁成肉块前抓住杰克的胳膊。“杰克，你的礼貌哪儿去了？咱们好心的老板娘不是说别动刀动枪吗？还不快照办。”他勉强挤出一丝微笑，心想在别人眼里一定难看。“史塔克夫人，我想您一定是弄错了，我跟贵公子的事一点关系也没有。我以我的荣誉起誓——”
“Lannister honor,” was all she said. She held up her hands for all the room to see. “His dagger left these scars. The blade he sent to open my son’s throat.”
“兰尼斯特的荣誉。”她只说了这句，便举起手让全屋子的人看。“这伤疤是他的匕首留下的。他派人用那把刀来割我儿子的喉咙。”
Tyrion felt the anger all around him, thick and smoky, fed by the deep cuts in the Stark woman’s hands. “Kill him,” hissed some drunken slattern from the back, and other voices took up the call, faster than he would have believed. Strangers all, friendly enough only a moment ago, and yet now they cried for his blood like hounds on a trail.
提利昂只感觉周遭人众的怒火上升，被那史塔克女人手上的伤煽动得简直要冒烟。“宰了他。”身后一个喝醉的妓女说，接着其他人也同声附和，速度快得使他不敢相信。大家素昧平生，刚才还颇为友善，如今竟像紧咬不放的嗜血猎犬般要他偿命。
Tyrion spoke up loudly, trying to keep the quaver from his voice. “If Lady Stark believes I have some crime to answer for, I will go with her and answer for it.”
提利昂提高音量，一边努力掩饰声音里的颤抖：“假如史塔克夫人认定我要为某些罪行负责，那我很乐意跟她去好好解释。”
It was the only possible course. Trying to cut their way out of this was a sure invitation to an early grave. A good dozen swords had responded to the Stark woman’s plea for help: the Harrenhal man, the three Brackens, a pair of unsavory sellswords who looked as though they’d kill him as soon as spit, and some fool field hands who doubtless had no idea what they were doing. Against that, what did Tyrion have? A dagger at his belt, and two men. Jyck swung a fair enough sword, but Morrec scarcely counted; he was part groom, part cook, part body servant, and no soldier. As for Yoren, whatever his feelings might have been, the black brothers were sworn to take no part in the quarrels of the realm. Yoren would do nothing.
这是惟一的办法。试图杀出重围无异自掘坟墓。有十来个人应那史塔克女人的请求拔了剑：那名赫伦堡的武士，三个布雷肯家的人，还有两个一副吐口痰就可以把他干掉模样的讨厌佣兵，以及一群根本不知道自己在做什么的庄稼汉。提利昂拿什么对付这些人？杰克的剑使得还不赖，但莫里斯就完全不行，他身兼马夫、厨子和照顾起居的随从三职，原本就不是打仗的料。至于尤伦，无论他自己想法为何，黑衣弟兄可是发过誓，与王国内任何争执都无涉。尤伦只会袖手旁观。
And indeed, the black brother stepped aside silently when the old knight by Catelyn Stark’s side said, “Take their weapons,” and the sellsword Bronn stepped forward to pull the sword from Jyck’s fingers and relieve them all of their daggers. “Good,” the old man said as the tension in the common room ebbed palpably, “excellent.” Tyrion recognized the gruff voice; Winterfell’s master-at-arms, shorn of his whiskers.
果不其然，当凯特琳·史塔克身边的老骑士喝道“没收他们的武器”时，黑衣弟兄便静静地站到一边。佣兵波隆走上前来，从杰克手中拿下剑，并且搜出他们所有的匕首。“很好。”老人说。房间里的紧张气氛明显缓和下来。“干得不错。”提利昂认出那粗硬的声音，是临冬城的教头，只是剃了胡子。
Scarlet-tinged spittle flew from the fat innkeep’s mouth as she begged of Catelyn Stark, “Don’t kill him here!”
胖老板娘向凯特琳·史塔克苦苦哀求，嘴里喷出一串腥红的唾沫：“别在这儿杀他！”
“Don’t kill him anywhere,” Tyrion urged.
“到哪儿都别杀他。”提利昂提议。
“Take him somewheres else, no blood here, m’lady, I wants no high lordlin’s quarrels.”
“夫人，要杀也请您到别的地方杀，别把我这儿弄得到处是血，我不想惹上官家的麻烦事儿啊。”
“We are taking him back to Winterfell,” she said, and Tyrion thought, Well, perhaps?.?.?.?By then he’d had a moment to glance over the room and get a better idea of the situation. He was not altogether displeased by what he saw. Oh, the Stark woman had been clever, no doubt of it. Force them to make a public affirmation of the oaths sworn her father by the lords they served, and then call on them for succor, and her a woman, yes, that was sweet. Yet her success was not as complete as she might have liked. There were close to fifty in the common room by his rough count. Catelyn Stark’s plea had roused a bare dozen; the others looked confused, or frightened, or sullen. Only two of the Freys had stirred, Tyrion noted, and they’d sat back down quick enough when their captain failed to move. He might have smiled if he’d dared.
“我们要把他带回临冬城去。”她说，提利昂听了心想：要是这样的话，或许……当时他已趁短暂余暇环顾四周，对当下情形更有掌握。眼前所见不至于让他绝望。噢，那史塔克女人反应倒是机敏，这无庸置疑。她先逼他们公开承认自家主子对她父亲的誓约，然后再请他们拔刀相助，何况她又是区区一个弱女子。没错，这招厉害。然而她也没有赢得太彻底。据他约略估算，饭厅里将近有五十个人。凯特琳·史塔克不过说动了十来个，其他人有的困惑，有的害怕，还有的冷漠。提利昂注意到，佛雷家那群人只有两个准备响应，而他们眼看带头的没动静，便又很快坐回去了。若不是不敢，否则他还真想偷笑。
“Winterfell it is, then,” he said instead. That was a long ride, as he could well attest, having just ridden it the other way. So many things could happen along the way. “My father will wonder what has become of me,” he added, catching the eye of the swordsman who’d offered to yield up his room. “He’ll pay a handsome reward to any man who brings him word of what happened here today.” Lord Tywin would do no such thing, of course, but Tyrion would make up for it if he won free.
“临冬城，去就去。”他说。这会是趟漫长的旅途，他自己刚从反方向走来，有着切身的体会。谁也说不准途中会有什么变数。“不过我不告而别，我老爸可能会担心我，”他补充道，一边看着刚才那个自愿把房间让给他的流浪剑客。“谁把今天发生的事告诉他，他定将重重赏赐。”泰温公爵当然不会如此，提利昂打算等自己脱身后再想办法补偿。
Ser Rodrik glanced at his lady, his look worried, as well it might be. “His men come with him,” the old knight announced. “And we’ll thank the rest of you to stay quiet about what you’ve seen here.”
罗德利克爵士忧心忡忡地看看他的女主人，这老家伙也没什么高招。“他的人跟他一起走。”老骑士宣布，“刚才发生的事，还请诸位不要张扬。”
It was all Tyrion could do not to laugh. Quiet? The old fool. Unless he took the whole inn, the word would begin to spread the instant they were gone. The freerider with the gold coin in his pocket would fly to Casterly Rock like an arrow. If not him, then someone else. Yoren would carry the story south. That fool singer might make a lay of it. The Freys would report back to their lord, and the gods only knew what he might do. Lord Walder Frey might be sworn to Riverrun, but he was a cautious man who had lived a long time by making certain he was always on the winning side. At the very least he would send his birds winging south to King’s Landing, and he might well dare more than that.
提利昂好容易才忍住笑。不要张扬？老糊涂蛋。除非把整间旅店里的人都抓起来，否则前脚刚踏出门，后脚消息就会散播开去。那个口袋里装了金币的流浪武士一定会心急火燎地飞速赶往凯岩城通风报信，就算他没去，别人也一定会去。尤伦将把消息带往南方，而那个愚蠢的歌手说不定还会为此写首歌谣。佛雷家的手下会回报他们主子，他下一步会怎么做，只有天上诸神知道。瓦德·佛雷男爵虽然是奔流城的臣属，但他活了这么大把年纪，靠的就是小心谨慎，永远站在赢家那边。至少他会派鸟儿送信息到君临，很可能还不只这样。
Catelyn Stark wasted no time. “We must ride at once. We’ll want fresh mounts, and provisions for the road. You men, know that you have the eternal gratitude of House Stark. If any of you choose to help us guard our captives and get them safe to Winterfell, I promise you shall be well rewarded.” That was all it took; the fools came rushing forward. Tyrion studied their faces; they would indeed be well rewarded, he vowed to himself, but perhaps not quite as they imagined.
凯特琳·史塔克一点时间也没浪费。“我们马上动身，我们需要精力充足的马，还有路上必须的粮食。你们几位，史塔克家族永远感激你们。假如你们愿意协助我们押送犯人前往临冬城，我保证有重赏。”那些个蠢蛋就等这句话，听了立刻一拥而上。提利昂一个接一个地审视他们的脸庞：你们的确会得到重赏，他发誓，只怕不是你们想像的那种。
Yet even as they were bundling him outside, saddling the horses in the rain, and tying his hands with a length of coarse rope, Tyrion Lannister was not truly afraid. They would never get him to Winterfell, he would have given odds on that. Riders would be after them within the day, birds would take wing, and surely one of the river lords would want to curry favor with his father enough to take a hand. Tyrion was congratulating himself on his subtlety when someone pulled a hood down over his eyes and lifted him up onto a saddle.
他们立刻来到屋外，冒着雨给马备鞍。他们用粗绳绑住提利昂的手，他却不怎么害怕。他敢打赌，他们绝对无法把他押回临冬城，不出一天，定会有人骑马追来，这有什么好奇怪呢？鸟儿会送出讯息，届时必有河间地区的领主插手，借机讨好他老爸。提利昂正对自己的精打细算感到得意，就被人盖上兜帽，遮住眼睛，放上马鞍。
They set out through the rain at a hard gallop, and before long Tyrion’s thighs were cramped and aching and his butt throbbed with pain. Even when they were safely away from the inn, and Catelyn Stark slowed them to a trot, it was a miserable pounding journey over rough ground, made worse by his blindness. Every twist and turn put him in danger of falling off his horse. The hood muffled sound, so he could not make out what was being said around him, and the rain soaked through the cloth and made it cling to his face, until even breathing was a struggle. The rope chafed his wrists raw and seemed to grow tighter as the night wore on. I was about to settle down to a warm fire and a roast fowl, and that wretched singer had to open his mouth, he thought mournfully. The wretched singer had come along with them. “There is a great song to be made from this, and I’m the one to make it,” he told Catelyn Stark when he announced his intention of riding with them to see how the “splendid adventure” turned out. Tyrion wondered whether the boy would think the adventure quite so splendid once the Lannister riders caught up with them.
他们快马加鞭地冒雨出发，没过多久提利昂便已两腿酸疼，屁股也磨得难受。虽然安然远离旅店之后，凯特琳·史塔克便放慢速度，但这仍旧是一趟崎岖难行的艰苦旅程，蒙住眼睛更是雪上加霜。每次转弯他都有坠马的危险。透过头套听见的声音很模糊，所以他不清楚身边的人在说什么。细雨浸湿布料，头套紧贴脸庞，后来连呼吸都有困难。粗绳磨破他的手腕，随着夜色渐深，似乎越来越紧。他本来是要好好坐下，在火炉边取暖，享用刚烤出来的鸟肉的，只怪那该死的歌手偏偏要张开他的乌鸦嘴，他可怜兮兮地想。这该死的歌手竟然也在队伍里。“这件事值得大加传颂，我当然义不容辞啰。”当他宣布和他们一道，好瞧瞧这趟“精彩的冒险”会有什么结果时，他对凯特琳·史塔克这么说。提利昂不禁心想：等兰尼斯特家的骑士追上他们，你小子再来瞧瞧这趟冒险精不精彩。
The rain had finally stopped and dawn light was seeping through the wet cloth over his eyes when Catelyn Stark gave the command to dismount. Rough hands pulled him down from his horse, untied his wrists, and yanked the hood off his head. When he saw the narrow stony road, the foothills rising high and wild all around them, and the jagged snowcapped peaks on the distant horizon, all the hope went out of him in a rush. “This is the high road,” he gasped, looking at Lady Stark with accusation. “The eastern road. You said we were riding for Winterfell!”
凯特琳·史塔克下令暂时休息时，雨总算停了，曙光从湿布间的缝隙渗进眼帘。他被人粗手粗脚地拉下马，解开腕上的粗绳，拉掉头罩。当他看见眼前狭窄的石头路，四周愈见陡峭险恶的丘陵地势，以及远方地平线上呈锯齿状的覆雪峰峦，心中一切希望顿时化为乌有。“这是上坡路，”他用控诉的神情看着史塔克夫人，失声道，“是朝东边的路。你说我们要去临冬城！”
Catelyn Stark favored him with the faintest of smiles. “Often and loudly,” she agreed. “No doubt your friends will ride that way when they come after us. I wish them good speed.”
凯特琳·史塔克带着轻浅的笑意看着他。“说了很多次，而且很大声。”她同意，“想必你的朋友们会打那边追赶我们。祝他们一路顺风。”
Even now, long days later, the memory filled him with a bitter rage. All his life Tyrion had prided himself on his cunning, the only gift the gods had seen fit to give him, and yet this seven-times-damned she-wolf Catelyn Stark had outwitted him at every turn. The knowledge was more galling than the bare fact of his abduction.
即使过了这么些天，现在回想起来，他还是恼怒不已。提利昂这辈子向来以机敏自豪，因为那是天上诸神赐给他的惟一礼物，没想到这该死七次的母狼凯特琳·史塔克却魔高一丈，想到自己每一着棋都被她识破，简直比他被绑架这件事还叫他难过。
They stopped only as long as it took to feed and water the horses, and then they were off again. This time Tyrion was spared the hood. After the second night they no longer bound his hands, and once they had gained the heights they scarcely bothered to guard him at all. It seemed they did not fear his escape. And why should they? Up here the land was harsh and wild, and the high road little more than a stony track. If he did run, how far could he hope to go, alone and without provisions? The shadowcats would make a morsel of him, and the clans that dwelt in the mountain fastnesses were brigands and murderers who bowed to no law but the sword.
他们只停下来让马儿吃草喝水，便又匆匆上路。这次他们放过了提利昂，没再给他戴上头套，两天后更松开绑住他双手的绳子，等进入高山区，更是连派人看守都免了。他们似乎不怕他逃走，有什么好怕的？这里地势崎岖险恶，所谓的大道不过是条石头小径。就算他真的脱逃成功，在没有粮食又只身一人的情况下，能跑多远？影子山猫会拿他当点心，而蛰居山间的氏族部落更是些杀人越货的法外凶徒，惟有刀剑能叫他们臣服。
Yet still the Stark woman drove them forward relentlessly. He knew where they were bound. He had known it since the moment they pulled off his hood. These mountains were the domain of House Arryn, and the late Hand’s widow was a Tully, Catelyn Stark’s sister?.?.?.?and no friend to the Lannisters. Tyrion had known the Lady Lysa slightly during her years at King’s Landing, and did not look forward to renewing the acquaintance.
虽然如此，史塔克家的女人还是无情地催促他们赶路。此行目的地为何，早在头套被摘下那一刻，他便一清二楚。此间山区是艾林家族的领地，而前任首相的遗孀也是徒利家人，正是凯特琳·史塔克的妹妹……换言之，对兰尼斯特家无甚好感。在莱莎夫人待在君临的那些年里，提利昂跟她算是点头之交，此时此刻实在不想再续前缘。
His captors were clustered around a stream a short ways down the high road. The horses had drunk their fill of the icy cold water, and were grazing on clumps of brown grass that grew from clefts in the rock. Jyck and Morrec huddled close, sullen and miserable. Mohor stood over them, leaning on his spear and wearing a rounded iron cap that made him look as if he had a bowl on his head. Nearby, Marillion the singer sat oiling his woodharp, complaining of what the damp was doing to his strings.
绑架他的人们聚集在离山坡不远的小溪边。马儿们喝饱了冰冷的山泉，正啃食着从岩缝里长出的褐色杂草。杰克和莫里斯可怜兮兮地窝在一起，摩霍尔拄着长枪站在他们旁边，头戴一顶圆形铁盔，活像扣了个大碗。马瑞里安坐在他身边，正帮木头竖琴上油，一边抱怨湿气对琴弦有害。
“We must have some rest, my lady,” the hedge knight Ser Willis Wode was saying to Catelyn Stark as Tyrion approached. He was Lady Whent’s man, stiff-necked and stolid, and the first to rise to aid Catelyn Stark back at the inn.
“夫人，我们真的需要休息。”提利昂走近时，雇佣骑士维里·渥德正对凯特琳·史塔克说话。他是河安伯爵夫人的手下，看来一副硬汉模样，麻木无情，却是旅店里头一个响应凯特琳·史塔克的人。
“Ser Willis speaks truly, my lady,” Ser Rodrik said. “This is the third horse we have lost...”
“夫人，维里爵士说得对，”罗德利克爵士道，“这已经是我们损失的第三匹马了——”
“We will lose more than horses if we’re overtaken by the Lannisters,” she reminded them. Her face was windburnt and gaunt, but it had lost none of its determination.
“如果我们被兰尼斯特家的手下追上，损失的可就不只是马啦。”她提醒他们。她的脸饱经风吹雨打，面容憔悴，但坚毅果决丝毫不减。
“Small chance of that here,” Tyrion put in.
“在这里不太可能。”提利昂插嘴。
“The lady did not ask your views, dwarf,” snapped Kurleket, a great fat oaf with short-cropped hair and a pig’s face. He was one of the Brackens, a man-at-arms in the service of Lord Jonos. Tyrion had made a special effort to learn all their names, so he might thank them later for their tender treatment of him. A Lannister always paid his debts. Kurleket would learn that someday, as would his friends Lharys and Mohor, and the good Ser Willis, and the sellswords Bronn and Chiggen. He planned an especially sharp lesson for Marillion, him of the woodharp and the sweet tenor voice, who was struggling so manfully to rhyme imp with gimp and limp so he could make a song of this outrage.
“侏儒，夫人可没问你意见。”库雷凯特斥道。他是个头脑简单的胖子，一头短发，生了张猪脸，是布雷肯家那几人之一，在裘诺斯伯爵手下当兵。为了记住这些名字，提利昂特别下过功夫，以便将来好好感谢他们的礼遇。兰尼斯特有债必还，库雷凯特总有一天会知道这句话可不是说着玩的，他的朋友拉利斯和摩霍尔，好心的维里爵士，以及那两个佣兵波隆和契根也一样。至于马瑞里安，这个成天拨弄竖琴，有副甜腻的高嗓音，正努力地要把“小恶魔”和“脚跛”、“走不动”等字押韵，好为这件事写首歌的浑小子，他打算特别给他点苦头尝尝。
“Let him speak,” Lady Stark commanded.
“让他说罢。”史塔克夫人下令。
Tyrion Lannister seated himself on a rock. “By now our pursuit is likely racing across the Neck, chasing your lie up the kingsroad?.?.?.?assuming there is a pursuit, which is by no means certain. Oh, no doubt the word has reached my father?.?.?.?but my father does not love me overmuch, and I am not at all sure that he will bother to bestir himself.” It was only half a lie; Lord Tywin Lannister cared not a fig for his deformed son, but he tolerated no slights on the honor of his House. “This is a cruel land, Lady Stark. You’ll find no succor until you reach the Vale, and each mount you lose burdens the others all the more. Worse, you risk losing me. I am small, and not strong, and if I die, then what’s the point?” That was no lie at all; Tyrion did not know how much longer he could endure this pace.
提利昂·兰尼斯特找了块石头坐下。“现在我们的追兵大概已经赶到颈泽，按照您撒的谎沿国王大道一路追过去了……当然，这是假设真的有追兵，事实上有没有还不知道。喔，家父毫无疑问已经听说了消息……但家父对我不甚疼爱，所以我说不准他是否大动干戈。”这不完全是说谎，泰温·兰尼斯特公爵固然不管他畸形儿子死活，但他绝对无法忍受家族荣誉受损。“史塔克夫人，这是个残酷的地方，我相信在你们抵达艾林谷以前都不会有追兵赶来，但您每损失一匹马，便是加重其他人的负担。更糟的是，您还有可能连我的命也保不住。我个子小，身体又不强壮，若是死了，这岂不是白跑一趟？”这句可完全属实，提利昂真不知道如此折磨下去，他还能撑多久。
“It might be said that your death is the point, Lannister,” Catelyn Stark replied.
“兰尼斯特，跑这一趟的目的就是要你死。”凯特琳·史塔克答道。
“I think not,” Tyrion said. “If you wanted me dead, you had only to say the word, and one of these staunch friends of yours would gladly have given me a red smile.” He looked at Kurleket, but the man was too dim to taste the mockery.
“我不这样想，”提利昂道，“您真要我死，只消说一声，您这群忠心耿耿的朋友立刻会自告奋勇上来取我性命。”他看看库雷凯特，但那家伙智能太低，听不出其中的讥讽。
“The Starks do not murder men in their beds.”
“史塔克家的人不会乘人之危。”
“Nor do I,” he said. “I tell you again, I had no part in the attempt to kill your son.”
“我也不会。”他说：“我再跟您说一遍，意图谋害贵公子的事与我毫无瓜葛。”
“The assassin was armed with your dagger.”
“刺客手里拿的是你的匕首。”
Tyrion felt the heat rise in him. “It was not my dagger,” he insisted. “How many times must I swear to that? Lady Stark, whatever you may believe of me, I am not a stupid man. Only a fool would arm a common footpad with his own blade.”
提利昂胸中的怒火直往上冒。“那不是我的东西。”他强调，“你到底要我发多少次誓才肯相信？史塔克夫人，无论你信不信，总之我不是笨蛋，把自己的武器交给普通小贼用，这种事只有笨蛋才干得出来。”
Just for a moment, he thought he saw a flicker of doubt in her eyes, but what she said was, “Why would Petyr lie to me?”
一时间他似乎看到怀疑闪过她眼底，但她却说：“培提尔为什么要对我撒谎？”
“Why does a bear shit in the woods?” he demanded. “Because it is his nature. Lying comes as easily as breathing to a man like Littlefinger. You ought to know that, you of all people.”
“狗熊为什么要在森林里拉屎？”他质问，“那是天性。对小指头那种人来说，撒谎跟呼吸一样自然。不说别人，你应该特别了解才对。”
She took a step toward him, her face tight. “And what does that mean, Lannister?”
她向他走近一步，绷紧了脸。“你什么意思，兰尼斯特？”
Tyrion cocked his head. “Why, every man at court has heard him tell how he took your maidenhead, my lady.”
提利昂昂头道：“这个嘛，我说夫人，您是怎么被他开苞的，这事宫里每个人都听他说过哪。”
“That is a lie!” Catelyn Stark said.
“根本没这回事！”凯特琳·史塔克怒道。
“Oh, wicked little imp,” Marillion said, shocked.
“哎，你这小恶魔真是坏到骨子里去了。”马瑞里安显然吓了一跳。
Kurleket drew his dirk, a vicious piece of black iron. “At your word, m’lady, I’ll toss his lying tongue at your feet.” His pig eyes were wet with excitement at the prospect.
库雷凯特抽出他那黑铁打造的锋利短刀。“夫人，您点个头，我就把这家伙的烂舌头割下来。”一想到割舌头的情景，他那对猪眼睛便兴奋地睁得老大。
Catelyn Stark stared at Tyrion with a coldness on her face such as he had never seen. “Petyr Baelish loved me once. He was only a boy. His passion was a tragedy for all of us, but it was real, and pure, and nothing to be made mock of. He wanted my hand. That is the truth of the matter. You are truly an evil man, Lannister.”
凯特琳·史塔克用一种提利昂从未见过的冷酷神情瞪着他。“培提尔·贝里席曾经爱过我。当时他还只是个孩子。他的爱虽然对我们彼此都是个错误，但却是千真万确、纯洁无瑕的小儿女之情，不是拿给你寻开心的。他想牵我的手、娶我为妻，这才是事情的真相。兰尼斯特，你真是个无可救药的恶魔。”
“And you are truly a fool, Lady Stark. Littlefinger has never loved anyone but Littlefinger, and I promise you that it is not your hand that he boasts of, it’s those ripe breasts of yours, and that sweet mouth, and the heat between your legs.”
“那你就是无可救药的笨蛋了，史塔克夫人。小指头除了他自己，从没爱过别人。我敢跟您保证，他对我们吹嘘的绝不是您那双纤纤玉手，而是您那对胀鼓鼓的乳房，那张娇艳欲滴的樱桃小嘴，还有您两腿间那团热呼呼的火。”
Kurleket grabbed a handful of hair and yanked his head back in a hard jerk, baring his throat. Tyrion felt the cold kiss of steel beneath his chin. “Shall I bleed him, my lady?”
库雷凯特猛地一把攫住他头发，使劲将头往后一拉，露出他的喉咙。提利昂感觉出刀锋冰冷地吻着下巴。“夫人，要不我给他放点血？”
“Kill me and the truth dies with me,” Tyrion gasped.
“杀了我，真相也就永远埋没。”提利昂喘息着说。
“Let him talk,” Catelyn Stark commanded.
“让他说完。”凯特琳·史塔克下令。
Kurleket let go of Tyrion’s hair, reluctantly.
库雷凯特很不情愿地放手。
Tyrion took a deep breath. “How did Littlefinger tell you I came by this dagger of his? Answer me that.”
提利昂深吸一口气。“根据小指头的说法，我是怎么拿到他匕首的？告诉我。”
“You won it from him in a wager, during the tourney on Prince Joffrey’s name day.”
“你在乔佛里王子命名日那天的比武大会上，打赌赢了他。”
“When my brother Jaime was unhorsed by the Knight of Flowers, that was his story, no?”
“是在家兄詹姆被百花骑士刺下马的时候。这就是他的故事，对不对？”
“It was,” she admitted. A line creased her brow.
“是的。”她坦承。她的眉间闪过一抹疑虑。
“Riders!”
“骑兵！”
The shriek came from the wind-carved ridge above them. Ser Rodrik had sent Lharys scrambling up the rock face to watch the road while they took their rest.
尖叫声自上方的风蚀山脊间传来。休息之前，罗德利克爵士派拉利斯爬上去守望。
For a long second, no one moved. Catelyn Stark was the first to react. “Ser Rodrik, Ser Willis, to horse,” she shouted. “Get the other mounts behind us. Mohor, guard the prisoners...”
一时之间大家全愣住了。凯特琳·史塔克是第一个采取行动的人。“罗德利克爵士，维里爵士，请你们赶快上马备战，”她喊道，“把其他马牵到后面。摩霍尔，你负责看守犯人……”
“Arm us!” Tyrion sprang to his feet and seized her by the arm. “You will need every sword.”
“给我们武器！”提利昂一跃起身，抓住她的手，“多一个人就多一分力量。”
She knew he was right, Tyrion could see it. The mountain clans cared nothing for the enmities of the great houses; they would slaughter Stark and Lannister with equal fervor, as they slaughtered each other. They might spare Catelyn herself; she was still young enough to bear sons. Still, she hesitated.
提利昂看得出她知道他说得对，高山氏族部落才不管贵族间的纠葛——不管杀史塔克还是兰尼斯特家，都会像自相残杀一样毫不留情。他们或许只会放过凯特琳，因为她还年轻，可以替他们传宗接代。明知如此，她仍旧犹豫不决。
“I hear them!” Ser Rodrik called out. Tyrion turned his head to listen, and there it was: hoofbeats, a dozen horses or more, coming nearer. Suddenly everyone was moving, reaching for weapons, running to their mounts.
“我听见他们了！”罗德利克爵士大喊。提利昂侧耳倾听，果然听到十来匹马的蹄声快速逼近。突然间大家都行动起来，有的抽出武器，有的朝坐骑跑去。
Pebbles rained down around them as Lharys came springing and sliding down the ridge. He landed breathless in front of Catelyn Stark, an ungainly-looking man with wild tufts of rust-colored hair sticking out from under a conical steel cap. “Twenty men, maybe twenty-five,” he said, breathless. “Milk Snakes or Moon Brothers, by my guess. They must have eyes out, m’lady?.?.?.?hidden watchers?.?.?.?they know we’re here.”
拉利斯连跑带跳地翻下山脊，碎石如雨般朝他们撒来。他上气不接下气地跳到凯特琳·史塔克面前。他生得很丑，满头铁锈色的乱发从锥形钢盔下方爆出。“我看到二十个，可能有二十五个，”他气喘吁吁地说，“我猜是白蛇部或月人部。夫人，路上一定有斥候……躲起来观察……他们早发现了我们。”
Ser Rodrik Cassel was already ahorse, a longsword in hand. Mohor crouched behind a boulder, both hands on his iron-tipped spear, a dagger between his teeth. “You, singer,” Ser Willis Wode called out. “Help me with this breastplate.” Marillion sat frozen, clutching his woodharp, his face as pale as milk, but Tyrion’s man Morrec bounded quickly to his feet and moved to help the knight with his armor.
罗德利克·凯索爵士已经上马，手握长剑。摩霍尔蹲伏在一块巨石后，双手握住他的铁尖长矛，牙间咬着一把短刀。“喂，唱歌的，”维里·渥德爵士叫道，“过来帮我穿盔甲。”马瑞里安僵在原地，抱紧他的木头竖琴，脸色像牛奶一般苍白。结果是提利昂的仆人莫里斯跳起来，上前帮骑士穿上护甲。
Tyrion kept his grip on Catelyn Stark. “You have no choice,” he told her. “Three of us, and a fourth man wasted guarding us?.?.?.?four men can be the difference between life and death up here.”
提利昂抓着凯特琳·史塔克不放。“你别无选择，”他告诉她，“我们有三个，你还得浪费第四个人作看守……眼下，四个人足以决定全体生死。”
“Give me your word that you will put down your swords again after the fight is done.”
“向我保证事后你会归还武器。”
“My word?” The hoofbeats were louder now. Tyrion grinned crookedly. “Oh, that you have, my lady?.?.?.?on my honor as a Lannister.”
“你要我的保证？”马蹄声越来越大，提利昂嘻嘻笑道，“唉，那有什么问题，夫人，我以兰尼斯特的荣誉为名……向你保证。”
For a moment he thought she would spit at him, but instead she snapped, “Arm them,” and as quick as that she was pulling away. Ser Rodrik tossed Jyck his sword and scabbard, and wheeled to meet the foe. Morrec helped himself to a bow and quiver, and went to one knee beside the road. He was a better archer than swordsman. And Bronn rode up to offer Tyrion a double-bladed axe.
他原以为她会朝自己吐口水，结果她只丢下一句：“把武器给他们，”便快步离开。罗德利克爵士把杰克的武器连剑带鞘丢还给他，然后调转马头投入战斗。莫里斯自己弄了张弓和一筒箭，单膝跪在路上。他射箭比用剑在行多了。波隆则骑马过来，给了提利昂一把双刃斧。
“I have never fought with an axe.” The weapon felt awkward and unfamiliar in his hands. It had a short haft, a heavy head, a nasty spike on top.
“我没用过斧头。”武器在手的感觉怪异而陌生。它的握柄很短，斧刃则极重，前端还有根吓人的尖钉。
“Pretend you’re splitting logs,” Bronn said, drawing his longsword from the scabbard across his back. He spat, and trotted off to form up beside Chiggen and Ser Rodrik. Ser Willis mounted up to join them, fumbling with his helmet, a metal pot with a thin slit for his eyes and a long black silk plume.
“就当是劈柴。”波隆边说边从背上的鞘里抽出长剑。他啐了口唾沫，飞奔至契根和罗德利克爵士旁边。维里爵士也上马加入他们，一边拨弄着他那顶开了条细眼缝，上面插了根黑丝羽毛的金属锅形头盔。
“Logs don’t bleed,” Tyrion said to no one in particular. He felt naked without armor. He looked around for a rock and ran over to where Marillion was hiding. “Move over.”
“木头可不会流血。”提利昂自言自语。没有盔甲，他觉得自己好像没穿衣服。他环顾四周，想找块石头，最后跑到马瑞里安躲着的地方。“靠过去一点。”
“Go away!” the boy screamed back at him. “I’m a singer, I want no part of this fight!”
“走开！”男孩朝他尖叫，“我是唱歌的，打打杀杀跟我无关！”
“What, lost your taste for adventure?” Tyrion kicked at the youth until he slid over, and not a moment too soon. A heartbeat later, the riders were on them.
“怎么，不想冒险啦？”提利昂抬脚踢他，直到他不敢拖延，乖乖爬开。一个心跳的间隔之后，敌人便骑马冲过来了。
There were no heralds, no banners, no horns nor drums, only the twang of bowstrings as Morrec and Lharys let fly, and suddenly the clansmen came thundering out of the dawn, lean dark men in boiled leather and mismatched armor, faces hidden behind barred halfhelms. In gloved hands were clutched all manner of weapons: longswords and lances and sharpened scythes, spiked clubs and daggers and heavy iron mauls. At their head rode a big man in a striped shadowskin cloak, armed with a two-handed greatsword.
这场战斗没有传令官，没有旗帜，没有号角吹响，也没有鼓声隆隆，只听见莫里斯和拉利斯放箭时的弓弦砰然声，转眼间原住民的铁蹄便踏破黎明，轰然而至。他们个个皮肤黝黑，身形精瘦，穿着硬皮革和抢来的不合身的护甲，面容隐藏在半罩头盔里。他们戴着手套，手里拿着形形色色的武器，有老朽的长剑、长枪，磨利的镰刀，还有狼牙棒、匕首和重铁锤。骑在最前面的人穿了一件花斑影子山猫皮做成的披风，握着一把双手巨剑。
Ser Rodrik shouted “Winterfell!” and rode to meet him, with Bronn and Chiggen beside him, screaming some wordless battle cry. Ser Willis Wode followed, swinging a spiked morningstar around his head. “Harrenhal! Harrenhal!” he sang. Tyrion felt a sudden urge to leap up, brandish his axe, and boom out, “Casterly Rock!” but the insanity passed quickly and he crouched down lower.
罗德利克爵士大喊一声：“临冬城万岁！”然后迎上前去，波隆和契根也一左一右冲杀出去，嘴里喊着含混不清的口号。维里爵士跟在后面，头上挥舞着一把钉刺流星锤。“赫伦堡万岁！赫伦堡万岁！”他叫道。提利昂突然间也有股冲动，想跳起来挥动斧头，然后大叫：“凯岩城万岁！”但他很快打消了这疯狂的念头，反而蹲得更低。
He heard the screams of frightened horses and the crash of metal on metal. Chiggen’s sword raked across the naked face of a mailed rider, and Bronn plunged through the clansmen like a whirlwind, cutting down foes right and left. Ser Rodrik hammered at the big man in the shadowskin cloak, their horses dancing round each other as they traded blow for blow. Jyck vaulted onto a horse and galloped bareback into the fray. Tyrion saw an arrow sprout from the throat of the man in the shadowskin cloak. When he opened his mouth to scream, only blood came out. By the time he fell, Ser Rodrik was fighting someone else.
他听见马儿受惊的尖叫，以及金属碰撞的声音。契根的剑削开一个人的脸，那人穿了铠甲，但没戴头盔。波隆则像一阵龙卷风般冲入敌阵，左劈右砍，切菜似地掀倒对手。罗德利克爵士则径自朝那个披影子山猫皮披风的大汉攻去，两匹马相互绕圈，两人你来我往。杰克跳上一匹马，连马鞍都没用就飞奔进乱军之中。提利昂看见一枝利箭自那披山猫披风的人喉头刺出，他张嘴欲喊，却只有鲜血涌出。等他倒地，罗德利克爵士已找到了新对手。
Suddenly Marillion shrieked, covering his head with his woodharp as a horse leapt over their rock. Tyrion scrambled to his feet as the rider turned to come back at them, hefting a spiked maul. Tyrion swung his axe with both hands. The blade caught the charging horse in the throat with a meaty thunk, angling upward, and Tyrion almost lost his grip as the animal screamed and collapsed. He managed to wrench the axe free and lurch clumsily out of the way. Marillion was less fortunate. Horse and rider crashed to the ground in a tangle on top of the singer. Tyrion danced back in while the brigand’s leg was still pinned beneath his fallen mount, and buried the axe in the man’s neck, just above the shoulder blades.
马瑞里安忽然尖叫起来，拿他的木头竖琴遮住头，只见一匹马自他们躲藏的岩石上方跳过。提利昂见状赶忙起身，来人调转马头，举起一柄带刺的大锤，回来收拾他们。提利昂双手握斧挥出，正砍中冲刺的马的喉咙，铮地发出结实的一声。马儿惨叫倒地，提利昂的武器险些脱手。他好不容易即时拔出斧头，踉跄地闪开。马瑞里安可没这么好运，对方连人带马朝他摔去，一团砸在他身上。趁着这匪徒的腿还被马压住，提利昂溜过去补上一斧，恰好砍在肩胛骨上方的脖子处。
As he struggled to yank the blade loose, he heard Marillion moaning under the bodies. “Someone help me,” the singer gasped. “Gods have mercy, I’m bleeding.”
正当他奋力拔出斧头，他听见埋在尸体下面的马瑞里安发出的呻吟。“谁来救救我，”歌手喘着气说，“天上诸神可怜我，我要流血而死了。”
“I believe that’s horse blood,” Tyrion said. The singer’s hand came crawling out from beneath the dead animal, scrabbling in the dirt like a spider with five legs. Tyrion put his heel on the grasping fingers and felt a satisfying crunch. “Close your eyes and pretend you’re dead,” he advised the singer before he hefted the axe and turned away.
“我相信那是马的血。”提利昂道。吟游诗人的手从死马底下伸出来，在泥地里乱抠，活像只五条脚的蜘蛛。提利昂伸出脚跟狠踩在狂抓的手指上，听到一声令人满意的喀啦响。“闭上眼睛，假装你已经死了吧。”他如此建议歌手，然后抽出斧头，转身走开。
After that, things ran together. The dawn was full of shouts and screams and heavy with the scent of blood, and the world had turned to chaos. Arrows hissed past his ear and clattered off the rocks. He saw Bronn unhorsed, fighting with a sword in each hand. Tyrion kept on the fringes of the fight, sliding from rock to rock and darting out of the shadows to hew at the legs of passing horses. He found a wounded clansman and left him dead, helping himself to the man’s halfhelm. It fit too snugly, but Tyrion was glad of any protection at all. Jyck was cut down from behind while he sliced at a man in front of him, and later Tyrion stumbled over Kurleket’s body. The pig face had been smashed in with a mace, but Tyrion recognized the dirk as he plucked it from the man’s dead fingers. He was sliding it through his belt when he heard a woman’s scream.
在那之后，战场的情形乱成一团。这个清晨充满了呐喊和尖叫，空气中弥漫着血腥，世界一片混沌。利箭咻咻飞过他耳际，在石头上弹开。他看到波隆被打下马，两手各持一剑继续作战。提利昂在战场边缘游走，穿梭于岩石间，偶尔从躲藏的阴影里跳出来砍路过马匹的腿。他找到一个负伤的原住民，了结了他，并把他的半罩头盔拿来穿戴。头盔太紧，但只要能提供保护，提利昂就很高兴。杰克正和面前的敌人缠斗，却被人从后面捅了一刀。不一会儿提利昂又绊在了库雷凯特的尸体上，那张猪脸被钉头锤打得稀烂，但提利昂认得他手中的短刀，他把它从死人的指间拔出。他正要插进腰带时，听到了女人的尖叫。
Catelyn Stark was trapped against the stone face of the mountain with three men around her, one still mounted and the other two on foot. She had a dagger clutched awkwardly in her maimed hands, but her back was to the rock now and they had penned her on three sides. Let them have the bitch, Tyrion thought, and welcome to her, yet somehow he was moving. He caught the first man in the back of the knee before they even knew he was there, and the heavy axehead split flesh and bone like rotten wood. Logs that bleed, Tyrion thought inanely as the second man came for him. Tyrion ducked under his sword, lashed out with the axe, the man reeled backward?.?.?.?and Catelyn Stark stepped up behind him and opened his throat. The horseman remembered an urgent engagement elsewhere and galloped off suddenly.
凯特琳·史塔克被三个人围在山壁边，其中一个骑马，另外两个则是徒步。她受伤的手姿势怪异地握着一把匕首，但她已经退到山壁边缘，被三面团团包围。这婊子就给他们吧，提利昂心想，爱怎么搞随他们去，但不知怎么，他却采取了行动。他在对方发觉之前砍中一个人的膝盖后方，沉重的斧刃劈开血肉和骨头，好像劈的不过是腐朽的烂木。会流血的木头，提利昂心不在焉地想，接着第二个人朝他攻来。提利昂弯身躲开他的剑，挥出斧头，那人连忙后退……结果凯特琳·史塔克刚好走到他背后，割了他喉咙。骑马那人似乎想起别处有更重要的战斗，突然就快速跑开了。
Tyrion looked around. The enemy were all vanquished or vanished. Somehow the fighting had ended when he wasn’t looking. Dying horses and wounded men lay all around, screaming or moaning. To his vast astonishment, he was not one of them. He opened his fingers and let the axe thunk to the ground. His hands were sticky with blood. He could have sworn they had been fighting for half a day, but the sun seemed scarcely to have moved at all.
提利昂环顾四周，敌人不是被杀便是逃走，总之战斗在他没注意到的时候已经结束。遍地都是濒死的马和负伤的人，发出惨叫和呻吟。最令他惊讶的是自己竟安然无恙。他松开手指，斧头锵一声落在地上，忽然发现自己满手是血。他相信他们起码打了半天之久，但太阳却纹丝未动。
“Your first battle?” Bronn asked later as he bent over Jyck’s body, pulling off his boots. They were good boots, as befit one of Lord Tywin’s men; heavy leather, oiled and supple, much finer than what Bronn was wearing.
“第一次上战场？”过了一会儿，波隆站在杰克的尸体上一边弯身脱靴子，一边问。那是双好靴子，厚实的皮革，上过油，柔软异常，正配泰温公爵手下的身份，比起波隆穿的要好太多了。
Tyrion nodded. “My father will be so proud,” he said. His legs were cramping so badly he could scarcely stand. Odd, he had never once noticed the pain during the battle.
提利昂点点头。“我老爸应该会骄傲。”他说。他的脚抽筋得厉害，几乎无法站立。奇怪，刚才打斗时却一点不觉得疼。
“You need a woman now,” Bronn said with a glint in his black eyes. He shoved the boots into his saddlebag. “Nothing like a woman after a man’s been blooded, take my word.”
“你需要找个女人，”波隆眨着黑眼睛，顺手将靴子扔进自己的马鞍袋。“相信我，流过血之后，找个女人最来劲。”
Chiggen stopped looting the corpses of the brigands long enough to snort and lick his lips.
听见这话，契根停下对土匪尸体的搜刮，哼了一声，舔舔舌头。
Tyrion glanced over to where Lady Stark was dressing Ser Rodrik’s wounds. “I’m willing if she is,” he said. The freeriders broke into laughter, and Tyrion grinned and thought, There’s a start.
提利昂瞄了一眼正帮罗德利克爵士包扎的史塔克夫人。“她说好我就上。”他说。两个流浪武士听了哈哈大笑，提利昂一边跟着乐一边想：这是个好的开始。
Afterward he knelt by the stream and washed the blood off his face in water cold as ice. As he limped back to the others, he glanced again at the slain. The dead clansmen were thin, ragged men, their horses scrawny and undersized, with every rib showing. What weapons Bronn and Chiggen had left them were none too impressive. Mauls, clubs, a scythe?.?.?.?He remembered the big man in the shadowskin cloak who had dueled Ser Rodrik with a two-handed greatsword, but when he found his corpse sprawled on the stony ground, the man was not so big after all, the cloak was gone, and Tyrion saw that the blade was badly notched, its cheap steel spotted with rust. Small wonder the clansmen had left nine bodies on the ground.
随后他跪在溪边，用冰冷刺骨的溪水洗去脸上血迹。他瘸着腿走回去时，又看了看地上的死人。战死的原住民都是些衣衫褴褛、瘦骨嶙峋的家伙，他们的坐骑也是又瘦又小，根根肋骨清楚可见。波隆和契根挑剩下的武器都不怎么起眼，大锤、棍棒，还有一把镰刀……他想起那个穿了影子山猫皮披风、拿双手巨剑和罗德利克爵士对打的大汉，但当他看到那人四肢伸展躺在石地上的尸首时，他看起来一点也不高大。他的披风没了踪影，提利昂发现他的剑锋早就布满缺口，廉价钢铁锈得厉害。难怪原住民倒下九个。
They had only three dead; two of Lord Bracken’s men-at-arms, Kurleket and Mohor, and his own man Jyck, who had made such a bold show with his bareback charge. A fool to the end, Tyrion thought.
他们这边只死了三人：两个布雷肯伯爵的手下——库雷凯特和摩霍尔，还有他自己的护卫杰克，他奋不顾身的冲锋充分显示了他的愚勇。到死都还是傻子一个，提利昂心想。
“Lady Stark, I urge you to press on, with all haste,” Ser Willis Wode said, his eyes scanning the ridgetops warily through the slit in his helm. “We drove them off for the moment, but they will not have gone far.”
“史塔克夫人，我请求您立刻动身，加紧赶路。”维里·渥德爵士道，他透过头盔上那道细缝，小心翼翼地扫视着附近山脊。“我们虽然暂时赶跑了他们，但他们不会走远。”
“We must bury our dead, Ser Willis,” she said. “These were brave men. I will not leave them to the crows and shadowcats.”
“维里爵士，我们应该先安葬死者。”她说，“他们英勇殉难，我不能把他们留在这里给乌鸦和山猫糟蹋。”
“This soil is too stony for digging,” Ser Willis said.
“这里土地多石，没法挖的。”维里爵士道。
“Then we shall gather stones for cairns.”
“那我们就搬石头堆石冢。”
“Gather all the stones you want,” Bronn told her, “but do it without me or Chiggen. I’ve better things to do than pile rocks on dead men?.?.?.?breathing, for one.” He looked over the rest of the survivors. “Any of you who hope to be alive come nightfall, ride with us.”
“要怎么搬随你便，”波隆告诉她，“但我和契根可不干。比起在死人身上堆石头，我还有更要紧的事情……比如呼吸。”他环视其余的生还者。“你们要是还想活过今晚，就跟我们走。”
“My lady, I fear he speaks the truth,” Ser Rodrik said wearily. The old knight had been wounded in the fight, a deep gash in his left arm and a spear thrust that grazed his neck, and he sounded his age. “If we linger here, they will be on us again for a certainty, and we may not live through a second attack.”
“夫人，恐怕他说的没错。”罗德利克爵士虚弱地说。老骑士在打斗中负了伤，左臂被深深割了一道，脖子也被掷出的标枪擦伤，如今老态尽露。“若是在此逗留，他们一定会再次攻击，到时候我们可能就顶不住了。”
Tyrion could see the anger in Catelyn’s face, but she had no choice. “May the gods forgive us, then. We will ride at once.”
提利昂看出凯特琳脸上的愤怒，但她别无选择。“那就祈祷天上诸神原谅我们罢。我们这就动身。”
There was no shortage of horses now. Tyrion moved his saddle to Jyck’s spotted gelding, who looked strong enough to last another three or four days at least. He was about to mount when Lharys stepped up and said, “I’ll take that dirk now, dwarf.”
现在马倒是不缺。提利昂把他的马鞍移到杰克的花斑公马背上，因为它看起来还算强壮，再撑个三四天应该没问题。他正准备上马，只见拉利斯往前一站道：“侏儒，把你的匕首交给我。”
“Let him keep it.” Catelyn Stark looked down from her horse. “And see that he has his axe back as well. We may have need of it if we are attacked again.”
“让他留着吧。”凯特琳·史塔克从马上往下俯看，“斧头也还给他，若是再遇攻击，可能还用得着。”
“You have my thanks, lady,” Tyrion said, mounting up.
“夫人，谢谢您。”提利昂说着爬上马。
“Save them,” she said curtly. “I trust you no more than I did before.” She was gone before he could frame a reply.
“省省吧，”她唐突地说，“我跟以前一样不信任你。”他还来不及回嘴，她便拍马离开。
Tyrion adjusted his stolen helm and took the axe from Bronn. He remembered how he had begun the journey, with his wrists bound and a hood pulled down over his head, and decided that this was a definite improvement. Lady Stark could keep her trust; so long as he could keep the axe, he would count himself ahead in the game.
提利昂整了整偷来的头盔，然后从波隆手中接过斧头。他想起这趟旅程刚开始时，自己两手被绑，戴着头罩，如今堪称大有进展。史塔克夫人不信任他没关系，只要他能留住斧头，他就有信心在这场游戏里胜过对手。
Ser Willis Wode led them out. Bronn took the rear, with Lady Stark safely in the middle, Ser Rodrik a shadow beside her. Marillion kept throwing sullen looks back at Tyrion as they rode. The singer had broken several ribs, his woodharp, and all four fingers on his playing hand, yet the day had not been an utter loss to him; somewhere he had acquired a magnificent shadowskin cloak, thick black fur slashed by stripes of white. He huddled beneath its folds silently, and for once had nothing to say.
维里·渥德领队，波隆负责殿后，史塔克夫人安全地骑在队伍中间，罗德利克爵士则如影随形跟在她身旁。途中，马瑞里安带着怨恨的眼光，不断回头看他，他的几根肋骨，木头竖琴，还有用来弹奏的四根指头通通断了，但他还不算倒楣到极点：他弄来一件漂亮的影子山猫皮披风，厚实的黑毛皮，点缀着白线。他沉默地缩在斗篷里，难得地闭上了嘴巴。
They heard the deep growls of shadowcats behind them before they had gone half a mile, and later the wild snarling of the beasts fighting over the corpses they had left behind. Marillion grew visibly pale. Tyrion trotted up beside him. “Craven,” he said, “rhymes nicely with raven.” He kicked his horse and moved past the singer, up to Ser Rodrik and Catelyn Stark.
行不到半里，他们便听见背后影子山猫低沉的吼叫，稍后又传来它们争食尸体的咆哮。马瑞里安的脸色愈加苍白，提利昂骑马跑到他旁边。“‘黑鸟’，”他道，“恰好跟‘胆子小’押韵。”说完他一踢马肚，丢下吟游诗人，跑到罗德利克爵士和凯特琳·史塔克身边。
She looked at him, lips pressed tightly together.
她抿紧嘴唇看着他。
“As I was saying before we were so rudely interrupted,” Tyrion began, “there is a serious flaw in Littlefinger’s fable. Whatever you may believe of me, Lady Stark, I promise you this, I never bet against my family.”
“刚才我话说到一半，就被人无礼地打断了。”提利昂开口道，“小指头编的故事里有个很严重的疏漏。史塔克夫人，无论你信不信，我可以向你保证——我跟别人赌的时候，只把注下在自家人身上。”
