Ⅲ 冰雨的风暴 Chapter5 戴佛斯
DAVOS
他久久凝视着那张越变越大的帆，不知自己究竟想死还是想活。
He watched the sail grow for a long time, trying to decide whether he would sooner live or die.
等死很容易。只需爬回洞穴，任凭船只驶过，死亡很快就会来到。高烧多日不退，几乎蒸发了他，浑黄的毒水在肚肠里翻滚，烦乱的睡眠中颤抖从未停止。每个清晨他都更加虚弱。很快我就不会再受折磨了，他告诉自己。
Dying would be easier, he knew. All he had to do was crawl inside his cave and let the ship pass by, and death would find him. For days now the fever had been burning through him, turning his bowels to brown water and making him shiver in his restless sleep. Each morning found him weaker. It will not be much longer, he had taken to telling himself.
即便高烧不能夺走他的生命，他也会渴死。这里没有淡水，只有偶尔的降雨，积存在岩石缝隙中。三天以前（还是四天？躺在这块石礁上，要分清天日是不可能的）他的小水池就干掉了，干得象块老骨头，而四周却是无边无际、起着涟漪的灰绿汪洋，让他无法承受。饮用海水就意味着末日的来临，他对此十分明白，可当时实在忍受不住，喉咙烧得像火。是一阵突来的暴雨拯救了他，当时他好虚弱，以至于只能躺在雨中，闭上眼睛，张开嘴巴，一任雨点打在干裂的嘴唇和肿胀的舌头上。不管怎样，接下来总算有了点力气，而石礁上的水池、小沟和裂缝都暂时注满生气。
If the fever did not kill him, thirst surely would. He had no fresh water here, but for the occasional rainfall that pooled in hollows on the rock. Only three days past (or had it been four? On his rock, it was hard to tell the days apart) his pools had been dry as old bone, and the sight of the bay rippling green and grey all around him had been almost more than he could bear. Once he began to drink seawater the end would come swiftly, he knew, but all the same he had almost taken that first swallow, so parched was his throat. A sudden squall had saved him. He had grown so feeble by then that it was all he could do to lie in the rain with his eyes closed and his mouth open, and let the water splash down on his cracked lips and swollen tongue. But afterward he felt a little stronger, and the island’s pools and cracks and crevices once more had brimmed with life.
但这是三天（或四天？）前的事了，而今水已消失殆尽。有些被蒸发，剩下的他吮了个干净，等到明天，又得吮吸污泥，以及从洼穴底部挖到的潮湿冷硬的石头。
But that had been three days ago (or maybe four), and most of the water was gone now. Some had evaporated, and he had sucked up the rest. By the morrow he would be tasting the mud again, and licking the damp cold stones at the bottom of the depressions.
退一万步讲，就算没有高烧和干渴，饥饿同样会要命。他所在之地不过是辽阔的黑水湾中一块突出的荒石。潮落之时，会有细小的螃蟹吸附在石滩上——他在战斗过后也是被冲刷到这里来的。他在岩石上撞碎它们，吮吸爪子里的肉和壳里的内脏。螃蟹们总把他的手夹得生痛。
And if not thirst or fever, starvation would kill him. His island was no more than a barren spire jutting up out of the immensity of Blackwater Bay. When the tide was low, he could sometimes find tiny crabs along the stony strand where he had washed ashore after the battle. They nipped his fingers painfully before he smashed them apart on the rocks to suck the meat from their claws and the guts from their shells.
潮起之时，石滩会消失，戴佛斯不得不慌忙爬上岩石，以免再次被冲进海湾。满潮时分，岩石顶端比海平面高出十五尺，但海湾里的浪很高，因而无法保持身上干燥，就算躲进洞里也没用（说真的，所谓的洞不过是岩石中的大窟窿）。石礁上除了青苔之外什么也不长，海鸥也不来这儿。时而有些幼鸟会停在尖顶上，戴佛斯不断尝试抓它们的方法，可每当他靠拢，它们便飞快地离开。他扔石子，却虚弱得发不上力，即便击中目标，也只能惹得海鸟对他恼怒尖叫，接着拍拍翅膀远走高飞。
But the strand vanished whenever the tide came rushing in, and Davos had to scramble up the rock to keep from being swept out into the bay once more. The point of the spire was fifteen feet above the water at high tide, but when the bay grew rough the spray went even higher, so there was no way to keep dry, even in his cave (which was really no more than a hollow in the rock beneath an overhang). Nothing grew on the rock but lichen, and even the seabirds shunned the place. Now and again some gulls would land atop the spire and Davos would try to catch one, but they were too quick for him to get close. He took to flinging stones at them, but he was too weak to throw with much force, so even when his stones hit, the gulls would only scream at him in annoyance and then take to the air.
从他的避难所，可以望见其他石礁，有的似乎比他这块要高。别的不说，虽然目测可能出现误差，但他认为最近那块至少比海平面高出四十尺。更诱人的是，那儿常盘旋着一大群海鸥，戴佛斯幻想游过去侵夺它们的巢穴。可海水冰凉，潮流多变而剧烈，自己又没力气。如此的举动和喝海水无异，同样会要命。
There were other rocks visible from his refuge, distant stony spires taller than his own. The nearest stood a good forty feet above the water, he guessed, though it was hard to be sure at this distance. A cloud of gulls swirled about it constantly, and often Davos thought of crossing over to raid their nests. But the water was cold here, the currents strong and treacherous, and he knew he did not have the strength for such a swim. That would kill him as sure as drinking seawater.
多年的海上生涯使他明白狭海的秋季总是潮湿而多雨。因为日照转弱，白天倒不太难过，可夜里却越来越冷。海风不时刮过海湾，卷起道道白色的浪涛，湿透了戴佛斯，让他浑身颤抖。在高烧和寒冷的轮番攻击下，很快他便开始持续而痛苦的咳嗽。
Autumn in the narrow sea could often be wet and rainy, he remembered from years past. The days were not bad so long as the sun was shining, but the nights were growing colder and sometimes the wind would come gusting across the bay, driving a line of whitecaps before it, and before long Davos would be soaked and shivering. Fever and chills assaulted him in turn, and of late he had developed a persistent racking cough.
洞穴是他唯一的遮蔽所，却远远不够。退潮之际，漂流的木头和烧焦的残骸不时被冲刷到石滩上来，可它们无法打出火花。曾有一次，在绝望中，他试着摩擦两片浮木，但木头业已彻底腐朽，他的努力只换回几大块水疱。衣服没有干过，而来此之前一只鞋就已在海湾中遗失。
His cave was all the shelter he had, and that was little enough. Driftwood and bits of charred debris would wash up on the strand during low tide, but he had no way to strike a spark or start a fire. Once, in desperation, he had tried rubbing two pieces of driftwood against each other, but the wood was rotted, and his efforts earned him only blisters. His clothes were sodden as well, and he had lost one of his boots somewhere in the bay before he washed up here.
口渴，饥饿，暴露，三个伙计，陪伴他度过每一天的每个时辰，最终成为了他的朋友。但愿不久之后，他的某个朋友会怜悯他，为他解脱无尽的折磨。也许应当直接走进海里，奋力向北游，他知道海岸就在北方的某处，但眼睛看不见。距离太远，身体虚弱，游不过去，可这没关系。戴佛斯打小便是名水手，他希望死在海里。水下的神灵在等着我，他告诉自己，是我去见他们的时侯了。
Thirst; hunger; exposure. They were his companions, with him every hour of every day, and in time he had come to think of them as his friends. Soon enough, one or the other of his friends would take pity on him and free him from this endless misery. Or perhaps he would simply walk into the water one day, and strike out for the shore that he knew lay somewhere to the north, beyond his sight. It was too far to swim, as weak as he was, but that did not matter. Davos had always been a sailor; he was meant to die at sea. The gods beneath the waters have been waiting for me, he told himself. It’s past time I went to them.
偏偏这时，远方却出现了那只帆，起初还只是地平线上一个斑点，而今却越变越大。这里不该有船的。他知道石礁的位置，此地乃黑水湾中一系列海底山脉突出的地方，称为美人鱼礁。其中最高的比海面高出一百尺，还有十来个高出三十至六十尺的小型尖顶，水手们呼作“人鱼王之矛”。这里每块尖顶都有详细记录，水手们更互相警告潜藏于水下、范围更广的暗礁，总而言之，任何有理智的船长都会远远避开。
But now there was a sail; only a speck on the horizon, but growing larger. A ship where no ship should be. He knew where his rock lay, more or less; it was one of a series of sea monts that rose from the floor of Blackwater Bay. The tallest of them jutted a hundred feet above the tide, and a dozen lesser monts stood thirty to sixty feet high. Sailors called them spears of the merling king, and knew that for every one that broke the surface, a dozen lurked treacherously just below it. Any captain with sense kept his course well away from them.
戴佛斯用苍白红肿的双眼打量着渐渐鼓起的船帆，试图分辨海风吹刮帆布的声响。她正对着我驶来，除非立刻改变航向，否则很快就近得能听到我从这小小避难所发出的呼喊。我活了。如果我想活的话。对此，他却不能确定。
Davos watched the sail swell through pale red-rimmed eyes, and tried to hear the sound of the wind caught in the canvas. She is coming this way. Unless she changed course soon, she would pass within hailing distance of his meager refuge. It might mean life. If he wanted it. He was not sure he did.
我该怎么活？他心想，一任泪水模糊了视线。诸神在上，我该怎么活？我的孩子们死了，戴尔和阿拉德，马利克和马索斯，也许连戴冯也……作父亲的怎有脸在失去如此多的强壮孩儿之后苟活下去？我该怎么活下去？我是一具空壳，一只死去的螃蟹，内里什么都没有。他们为什么还要来救我，难道他们不明白吗？
Why should I live? he thought as tears blurred his vision. Gods be good, why? My sons are dead, Dale and Allard, Maric and Matthos, perhaps Devan as well. How can a father outlive so many strong young sons? How would I go on? I am a hollow shell, the crab’s died, there’s nothing left inside. Don’t they know that?
想当初阵容壮盛地进军黑水河，舰队上空飘扬着光之王的烈焰红心。戴佛斯和他的黑贝丝号位于第二战列，两边是戴尔的海灵号和阿拉德的玛瑞亚夫人号。他的三子马利克是怒火号的桨官，位于第一战列正中，马索斯则是父亲船上的大副。在红堡的高墙下，史坦尼斯·拜拉席恩的战船与小鬼国王乔佛里的“玩具”展开交锋，刹时间，河面布满漫天的弩箭，钢铁的撞锤不断击碎船桨和木壳。
They had sailed up the Blackwater Rush flying the fiery heart of the Lord of Light. Davos and Black Betha had been in the second line of battle, between Dale’s Wraith and Allard on Lady Marya. Maric his third-born was oarmaster on Fury, at the center of the first line, while Matthos served as his father’s second. Beneath the walls of the Red Keep Stannis Baratheon’s galleys had joined in battle with the boy king Joffrey’s smaller fleet, and for a few moments the river had rung to the thrum of bowstrings and the crash of iron rams shattering oars and hulls alike.
然后几头巨兽开始咆哮，四周全是绿的火焰——这是野火，炼金术士的屎尿，绿火恶魔。黑贝丝号一下子被掀离水面，当时马索斯就站在父亲身旁。戴佛斯坠入河中，绝望地拍打挣扎，急流围住了他，迫使他不断打旋、打旋。上游，烟火撕裂天空，火柱冲起五十尺高。黑贝丝号，怒火号，还有十几艘其他船只同时燃烧，浑身是火的人跳入水中，却再也没有浮起。海灵号和玛瑞亚夫人号遍寻不着，想必已在漫天野火中沉没、粉碎或是消失，根本无从找寻儿子们，流水带着他直往河口冲。横亘在前的是兰尼斯特的巨型铁索，从北岸到南岸，河口处除了燃烧的野火和战船之外什么也没有。看到这番景象，他几乎停止了呼吸，但恐怖的声响仍源源不断地从耳朵里灌进：烈焰的劈啪、流水蒸发的嘶嘶声、垂死士兵的尖叫，还有潮流带他涌向地狱时那可怕的热浪在脸上的拍击。
And then some vast beast had let out a roar, and green flames were all around them: wildfire, pyromancer’s piss, the jade demon. Matthos had been standing at his elbow on the deck of Black Betha when the ship seemed to lift from the water. Davos found himself in the river, flailing as the current took him and spun him around and around. Upstream, the flames had ripped at the sky, fifty feet high. He had seen Black Betha afire, and Fury, and a dozen other ships, had seen burning men leaping into the water to drown. Wraith and Lady Marya were gone, sunk or shattered or vanished behind a veil of wildfire, and there was no time to look for them, because the mouth of the river was almost upon him, and across the mouth of the river the Lannisters had raised a great iron chain. From bank to bank there was nothing but burning ships and wildfire. The sight of it seemed to stop his heart for a moment, and he could still remember the sound of it, the crackle of flames, the hiss of steam, the shrieks of dying men, and the beat of that terrible heat against his face as the current swept him down toward hell.
他只需袖手旁观，不消片刻，就能和孩子们团聚，沉睡在海湾底部清冷的绿色泥土里，任凭小鱼噬咬脸庞。
All he needed to do was nothing. A few moments more, and he would be with his sons now, resting in the cool green mud on the bottom of the bay, with fish nibbling at his face.
但不知为什么，他却深吸口气，潜入水下，向着河底猛扎。惟一的希望是从铁索、燃烧的战船及水面四散漂流的野火底下穿过去，拼命地游，一直游到后方安全的海湾。戴佛斯是个游泳好手，而且那天没穿盔甲，惟一戴着的圆盔也于坠海时丢失。他在绿色的水帘里穿梭，见到无数挣扎摸索的人，沉重的铠甲和锁甲正把他们慢慢拽进底部。戴佛斯游过他们，用尽腿上每一分气力蹬开躯体，追随潮流的方向。海水很快灌进他的眼睛。他越游越深，越游越深，越游越深，随着每一次击打，逐渐难以屏住呼吸。记得自己望见了河底，透过嘴巴喷出的气泡瞧去，这儿柔软而昏暗。什么东西碰到腿，一块石头？一只鱼？一个淹死的士兵？他不知道。
Instead he sucked in a great gulp of air and dove, kicking for the bottom of the river. His only hope was to pass under the chain and the burning ships and the wildfire that floated on the surface of the water, to swim hard for the safety of the bay beyond. Davos had always been a strong swimmer, and he’d worn no steel that day, but for the helm he’d lost when he’d lost Black Betha. As he knifed through the green murk, he saw other men struggling beneath the water, pulled down to drown beneath the weight of plate and mail. Davos swam past them, kicking with all the strength left in his legs, giving himself up to the current, the water filling his eyes. Deeper he went, and deeper, and deeper still. With every stroke it grew harder to hold his breath. He remembered seeing the bottom, soft and dim, as a stream of bubbles burst from his lips. Something touched his leg … a snag or a fish or a drowning man, he could not tell.
他需要空气，却不敢上浮。越过铁索了吗？在海湾内了吗？如果浮上去触到船只，必定要憋死；倘若出现在飘浮的野火中，第一口呼吸就会将肺烧成灰烬。他在水中扭着身子往上瞧，除了暗绿的黑影，什么也看不到，而他动作太剧烈，突然间便无从分辨河流的走向。恐慌攫住了他。他拼命拍打，手拂过河底，制造出团团污泥，彻底遮蔽了视线。胸膛愈来愈紧，他四处乱抓、踢打、推搡、不断翻动，肺部呐喊着要呼吸空气。踢啊，踢啊，在漆黑的水底迷路了，踢啊，踢啊，踢到再也踢不动为止。他张口号叫，海水猛灌而进，味道像盐巴，戴佛斯·席渥斯明白自己就快淹死了。
He needed air by then, but he was afraid. Was he past the chain yet, was he out in the bay? If he came up under a ship he would drown, and if he surfaced amidst the floating patches of wildfire his first breath would sear his lungs to ash. He twisted in the water to look up, but there was nothing to see but green darkness and then he spun too far and suddenly he could no longer tell up from down. Panic took hold of him. His hands flailed against the bottom of the river and sent up a cloud of mud that blinded him. His chest was growing tighter by the instant. He clawed at the water, kicking, pushing himself, turning, his lungs screaming for air, kicking, kicking, lost now in the river murk, kicking, kicking, kicking until he could kick no longer. When he opened his mouth to scream, the water came rushing in, tasting of salt, and Davos Seaworth knew that he was drowning.
恢复知觉时，太阳已然升起，他躺在一块裸露石礁下方的滩头，四面是空荡荡的海湾，身旁有一根破碎的桅杆、一面烧焦的帆布和一具肿胀的尸体。涨潮的时候，桅杆、帆布和尸体全都消失，只把戴佛斯孤零零地扔在“人鱼王之矛”的岩石上。
The next he knew the sun was up, and he lay upon a stony strand beneath a spire of naked stone, with the empty bay all around and a broken mast, a burned sail, and a swollen corpse beside him. The mast, the sail, and the dead man vanished with the next high tide, leaving Davos alone on his rock amidst the spears of the merling king.
经历了漫长的走私者生涯，戴佛斯对君临附近海域的了解比他拥有过的任何家园都要深，他很清楚他的避难所不过是海图上的一个小点，况且这个小点正是诚实水手应当回避的地方，而不是靠近……他自己倒来过美人鱼礁几次，只为躲避侦查。等有一天，我的尸体在这块岩石上被人发现，他们或许会用我的名字为它命名，他心想，就叫“洋葱之岩”吧，这就是我的墓志铭。他别无所求。父亲保护孩子，修士们如此教诲，可他戴佛斯偏偏把自己的孩子们带进烈火之中。戴尔再不可能使他的妻子怀上他们一直祈求的孩儿了；而阿拉德，他在旧镇、在君临、在布拉佛斯都有情人，她们很快便要陷入哀泣之中；马索斯甚至不及完成自己的梦想，没能当上船长，拥有自己的船；而马利克再也不能成为骑士。
His long years as a smuggler had made the waters around King’s Landing more familiar to him than any home he’d ever had, and he knew his refuge was no more than a speck on the charts, in a place that honest sailors steered away from, not toward … though Davos himself had come by it once or twice in his smuggling days, the better to stay unseen. When they find me dead here, if ever they do, perhaps they will name the rock for me, he thought. Onion Rock, they’ll call it; it will be my tombstone and my legacy. He deserved no more. The Father protects his children, the septons taught, but Davos had led his boys into the fire. Dale would never give his wife the child they had prayed for, and Allard, with his girl in Oldtown and his girl in King’s Landing and his girl in Braavos, they would all be weeping soon. Matthos would never captain his own ship, as he’d dreamed. Maric would never have his knighthood.
他们都死了，我该怎么活？无数英勇的骑士，伟大的领主，比我优秀的人，比我高贵的人，纷纷捐躯，只有我……爬进洞穴里去，戴佛斯，爬进去，缩成一团，船就会离开，没有人会再来打扰你。睡在石头上，让海鸥琢出眼珠，让螃蟹享用血肉，你享用过它们，你欠它们的情。躲起来，走私者，躲起来，别出声，然后死去。
How can I live when they are dead? So many brave knights and mighty lords have died, better men than me, and highborn. Crawl inside your cave, Davos. Crawl inside and shrink up small and the ship will go away, and no one will trouble you ever again. Sleep on your stone pillow, and let the gulls peck out your eyes while the crabs feast on your flesh. You’ve feasted on enough of them, you owe them. Hide, smuggler. Hide, and be quiet, and die.
风帆几乎近在眼前。再过一会儿，船就会平静地离开，他也将平静地死去。
The sail was almost on him. A few moments more, and the ship would be safely past, and he could die in peace.
他的手伸向咽喉，摸索着一直戴在颈项上的小皮袋，里面保留着他的国王册封他为骑士当天，削下的四根指节。我的幸运符。短指在胸前拍打、摸索，什么也没找到。袋子不见了，连同里面的指骨一起。史坦尼斯一直不理解他为何要留着这些骨头。“提醒我谨记吾王的公正，”他用破裂的嘴唇低语。而今连它们也不见了，大火像带走我的孩子们一样带走了我的幸运符。在梦中，河上的火焰从未熄灭，手持火鞭的魔鬼在水面舞蹈，活人在抽打下燃烧，化为焦炭。“圣母啊，发发慈悲吧，”戴佛斯祈求，“救救我，温柔的圣母，救救我们大家。我的幸运符丢了，我的孩子们死了。”他无法抑制地嚎啕大哭，咸咸的泪水在面颊积成小溪。“火带走了一切……火……”
His hand reached for his throat, fumbling for the small leather pouch he always wore about his neck. Inside he kept the bones of the four fingers his king had shortened for him, on the day he made Davos a knight. My luck. His shortened fingers patted at his chest, groping, finding nothing. The pouch was gone, and the fingerbones with them. Stannis could never understand why he’d kept the bones. “To remind me of my king’s justice,” he whispered through cracked lips. But now they were gone. The fire took my luck as well as my sons. In his dreams the river was still aflame and demons danced upon the waters with fiery whips in their hands, while men blackened and burned beneath the lash. “Mother, have mercy,” Davos prayed. “Save me, gentle Mother, save us all. My luck is gone, and my sons.” He was weeping freely now, salt tears streaming down his cheeks. “The fire took it all … the fire …”
也许只是一阵刮过岩石的海风，也许只是一阵拍打滩头的浪潮，但在那一瞬间，戴佛斯·席渥斯听到了她的回应。“是你招来火焰，”她低语道，声音像隔着贝壳听潮一般微弱轻柔，充满忧伤，“是你烧了我们……烧了我们……烧了我们们们们们们们。”
Perhaps it was only wind blowing against the rock, or the sound of the sea on the shore, but for an instant Davos Seaworth heard her answer. “You called the fire,” she whispered, her voice as faint as the sound of waves in a seashell, sad and soft. “You burned us … burned us … burrrrned usssssss.”
“是她干的！”戴佛斯哭喊，“圣母啊，请不要将我们抛弃。是她干的，那红袍女，梅丽珊卓，是她！”她仿佛出现在眼前：心形的脸蛋、红色的眼睛、红铜的长发，她穿着红色的长礼服，由丝绸和缎子所制，走起路来有如火焰在移动。她来自东方的亚夏，在龙石岛上，用异乡的神灵俘获了赛丽丝和王后门下的贵族，接着又俘获了国王史坦尼斯·拜拉席恩的心。国王走得太远，竟把烈焰红心当成自己的旗帜，侍侯光之王拉赫洛，圣焰之心，影子与烈火的真主。在梅丽珊卓的力促下，他把龙石岛圣堂里的七神神像全拖出来，在城门口焚烧；后来还烧毁了风息堡的神木林，甚至那棵刻着庄重面容的巨大白色鱼梁木也没能逃脱厄运。
“It was her!” Davos cried. “Mother, don’t forsake us. It was her who burned you, the red woman, Melisandre, her!” He could see her; the heart-shaped face, the red eyes, the long coppery hair, her red gowns moving like flames as she walked, a swirl of silk and satin. She had come from Asshai in the east, she had come to Dragonstone and won Selsye and her queen’s men for her alien god, and then the king, Stannis Baratheon himself. He had gone so far as to put the fiery heart on his banners, the fiery heart of R’hllor, Lord of Light and God of Flame and Shadow. At Melisandre’s urging, he had dragged the Seven from their sept at Dragonstone and burned them before the castle gates, and later he had burned the godswood at Storm’s End as well, even the heart tree, a huge white weirwood with a solemn face.
“是她干的，”戴佛斯重复，只觉言语加倍地无力。是她干的，可你是帮凶，洋葱骑士。在那个漆黑的夜晚，是你载她潜进风息堡，放出阴影之子。你不是无辜，你怎么可能无辜？你在她的旗帜下骑行，在她的旗帜下航海，你眼睁睁看着七神在龙石岛被焚烧，什么也没做。公正的天父、慈悲的圣母、睿智的老妪，铁匠和陌客，少女与战士，统统被她奉献给那残酷的神灵，而你只是静静地站着，闭上嘴巴。即便她杀害了克礼森老师傅，即便目睹了如此暴行，你仍旧什么也没做。
“It was her work,” Davos said again, more weakly. Her work, and yours, onion knight. You rowed her into Storm’s End in the black of night, so she might loose her shadow child. You are not guiltless, no. You rode beneath her banner and flew it from your mast. You watched the Seven burn at Dragonstone, and did nothing. She gave the Father’s justice to the fire, and the Mother’s mercy, and the wisdom of the Crone. Smith and Stranger, Maid and Warrior, she burnt them all to the glory of her cruel god, and you stood and held your tongue. Even when she killed old Maester Cressen, even then, you did nothing.
风帆就在一百码外，飞速穿越海湾。很快，它就会经过这里，逐渐消失。
The sail was a hundred yards away and moving fast across the bay. In a few more moments it would be past him, and dwindling.
戴佛斯爵士开始往上爬。
Ser Davos Seaworth began to climb his rock.
他用发抖的手牵引自己，思维因发烧而模糊。伤残的手指两次在潮湿的岩石上打滑，他几乎跌落下去，用尽全力方才抓紧。掉下去就死定了，而他必须活着。至少要再活一会儿，有使命必须完成。
He pulled himself up with trembling hands, his head swimming with fever. Twice his maimed fingers slipped on the damp stone and he almost fell, but somehow he managed to cling to his perch. If he fell he was dead, and he had to live. For a little while more, at least. There was something he had to do.
顶端很窄，而且和他一样脆弱，根本无法安全站立，他只好蹲在上面，挥舞着骨瘦如柴的手臂。“船，”他在风中呼喊，“船，这里！这里！”从高处，他可以更清楚的打量她；细瘦的彩绘条纹船壳，青铜的船首像，翻腾着的风帆。船壳上有名字，可戴佛斯不识字。“船，”他再次叫道，“救救我，救救我！！！！！！”
The top of the rock was too small to stand on safely, as weak as he was, so he crouched and waved his fleshless arms. “Ship,” he screamed into the wind. “Ship, here, here!” From up here, he could see her more clearly; the lean striped hull, the bronze figurehead, the billowing sail. There was a name painted on her hull, but Davos had never learned to read. “Ship,” he called again, “help me, HELP ME!”
艏楼上一名水手发现了他，指指点点。他看见其他船员奔向船舷，目瞪口呆地打量他。帆降下来，桨也收起，她开始朝他的避难所转舵。来船很大，不可能靠近，于是在三十码的距离外，她放出一艘小艇。戴佛斯趴在岩石上，盯着小艇靠拢。四个人在划，第五个人站在船首。“你，”当小艇离石礁只剩几尺时，对方发话道，“岩石上的这个人。你是谁？”
A crewman on her forecastle saw him and pointed. He watched as other sailors moved to the gunwale to gape at him. A short while later the galley’s sail came down, her oars slid out, and she swept around toward his refuge. She was too big to approach the rock closely, but thirty yards away she launched a small boat. Davos clung to his rock and watched it creep toward him. Four men were rowing, while a fifth sat in the prow. “You,” the fifth man called out when they were only a few feet from his island, “you up on the rock. Who are you?”
一个飞黄腾达的走私者，戴佛斯心想，一个愚忠君王、以至于忘记神灵的蠢货。他的喉咙干得要命，不知该如何吐词，所以话说出来，连自己也觉得陌生。“我是黑水河一战的幸存者。我是……一个船长，一个……一个骑士，我是一个骑士。”
A smuggler who rose above himself, thought Davos, a fool who loved his king too much, and forgot his gods. “I …” His throat was parched, and he had forgotten how to talk. The words felt strange on his tongue and sounded stranger in his ears. “I was in the battle. I was … a captain, a … a knight, I was a knight.”
“是嘛，爵士先生，”对方说，“那您为那位国王服务？”
“Aye, ser,” the man said, “and serving which king?”
来船很可能属于乔佛里，他突然意思到，假如说错话，就会被遗弃，扔在这里听天由命。不，不会，她有彩绘船壳。这是里斯人的船，萨拉多·桑恩的船，圣母派来的船！圣母慈悲啊，她把使命托付给了我。史坦尼斯还活着，他明白了，我的国王还活着，我还有别的孩子，我还有一个忠诚而深情的妻子。我怎能忘记呢？圣母是真正慈悲的。
The galley might be Joffrey’s, he realized suddenly. If he spoke the wrong name now, she would abandon him to his fate. But no, her hull was striped. She was Lysene, she was Salladhor Saan’s. The Mother sent her here, the Mother in her mercy. She had a task for him. Stannis lives, he knew then. I have a king still. And sons, I have other sons, and a wife loyal and loving. How could he have forgotten? The Mother was merciful indeed.
“史坦尼斯，”他朝里斯人吼回去，“诸神在上，我为史坦尼斯国王效劳。”
“Stannis,” he shouted back at the Lyseni. “Gods be good, I serve King Stannis.”
“啊，”船上的男人说，“我们也一样。”
“Aye,” said the man in the boat, “and so do we.”
