Ⅲ 冰雨的风暴 Chapter56 布兰

BRAN

“不过是又一座空碉堡，”梅拉·黎德一边说，一边注视着碎石、废墟和杂草。

It is only another empty castle,” Meera Reed said as she gazed across the desolation of rubble, ruins, and weeds.

不，布兰心想，这是长夜堡，世界的尽头。在群山中跋涉时，他一心只想早日到达长城，寻找三眼乌鸦，现在到了这里，内心却充满恐惧。他做的那个梦……夏天的梦……不，我不能去想。他甚至没告诉黎德们，但梅拉似乎有所察觉。如果绝口不提，也许可以忘记梦中之事，它也永远不会成真，罗柏和灰风就仍然……

No, thought Bran, it is the Nightfort, and this is the end of the world. In the mountains, all he could think of was reaching the Wall and finding the three-eyed crow, but now that they were here he was filled with fears. The dream he’d had … the dream Summer had had … No, I mustn’t think about that dream. He had not even told the Reeds, though Meera at least seemed to sense that something was wrong. If he never talked of it maybe he could forget he ever dreamed it, and then it wouldn’t have happened and Robb and Grey Wind would still be …

“阿多，”阿多换换重心，布兰也跟着晃。走了好几个钟头，他累了。但至少他不害怕。布兰怕这个地方，而且几乎同样怕向黎德姐弟承认这点。我是北境的王子，临冬城史塔克家族的成员，几乎已经长大成人了，我得像罗柏一样勇敢。

“Hodor.” Hodor shifted his weight, and Bran with it. He was tired. They had been walking for hours. At least he’s not afraid. Bran was scared of this place, and almost as scared of admitting it to the Reeds. I’m a prince of the north, a Stark of Winterfell, almost a man grown, I have to be as brave as Robb.

玖健用暗绿色的眼睛凝视他，“这里没什么东西会伤害我们，殿下。”

Jojen gazed up at him with his dark green eyes. “There’s nothing here to hurt us, Your Grace.”

布兰可不太确定。长夜堡总出现于老奶妈最吓人的故事里面。“夜王”曾在这里统治，其后他的名字被人们从记忆中抹去；“鼠厨师”在这里为安达尔人的国王奉上“王子培根人肉馅饼”；“七十九守卫”曾在这里站岗；年轻勇敢的丹妮·菲林特在这里被强暴后谋杀。就在这座城堡，谢瑞特国王发出对古安达尔人的诅咒，一群小学徒面对黑夜中出现的妖怪，瞎子“星眼”赛米恩观睹地狱犬打斗，而“疯斧”走过这些院子，爬上塔楼，于黑暗中屠杀他的兄弟们。

Bran wasn’t so certain. The Nightfort had figured in some of Old Nan’s scariest stories. It was here that Night’s King had reigned, before his name was wiped from the memory of man. This was where the Rat Cook had served the Andal king his prince-and-bacon pie, where the seventy-nine sentinels stood their watch, where brave young Danny Flint had been raped and murdered. This was the castle where King Sherrit had called down his curse on the Andals of old, where the ’prentice boys had faced the thing that came in the night, where blind Symeon Star-Eyes had seen the hellhounds fighting. Mad Axe had once walked these yards and climbed these towers, butchering his brothers in the dark.

当然，所有这些故事都发生于千百年前，有些甚至根本没发生过。鲁温学士常说，老奶妈的故事不能囫囵吞下。但某一次叔叔来见父亲时，布兰问起长夜堡，班扬·史塔克没说那些故事是真，也没说是假，只耸耸肩，“我们两百年前就离开了长夜堡。”仿佛这就是答案。

All that had happened hundreds and thousands of years ago, to be sure, and some maybe never happened at all. Maester Luwin always said that Old Nan’s stories shouldn’t be swallowed whole. But once his uncle came to see Father, and Bran asked about the Nightfort. Benjen Stark never said the tales were true, but he never said they weren’t; he only shrugged and said, “We left the Nightfort two hundred years ago,” as if that was an answer.

布兰逼自己环顾四周。这天早晨寒冷而明亮，阳光从残酷的青天中照耀而下。他不喜欢那些嘈杂的声音：风穿过残破塔楼发出令人不安的啸叫，要塞吱嘎作响，老鼠在大厅地板下乱爬。那是“鼠厨师”的孩子们在逃避父亲。院子成了小森林，细瘦的树木互相交错光秃的枝杈，枯叶如蟑螂在堆堆积雪上疾走。原本马厩所在之处长出了几棵大树，厨房拱顶上有个洞，一株扭曲的白色鱼梁木从里面挤出来。在这里，就连夏天也感到不安。布兰容许自己钻入他皮下一小会儿，闻闻这地方的味道。他不喜欢那气味。

Bran forced himself to look around. The morning was cold but bright, the sun shining down from a hard blue sky, but he did not like the noises. The wind made a nervous whistling sound as it shivered through the broken towers, the keeps groaned and settled, and he could hear rats scrabbling under the floor of the great hall. The Rat Cook’s children running from their father. The yards were small forests where spindly trees rubbed their bare branches together and dead leaves scuttled like roaches across patches of old snow. There were trees growing where the stables had been, and a twisted white weirwood pushing up through the gaping hole in the roof of the domed kitchen. Even Summer was not at ease here. Bran slipped inside his skin, just for an instant, to get the smell of the place. He did not like that either.

关键的是，没有穿越长城的通道。

And there was no way through.

布兰告诉过他们不会有，一遍又一遍地告诉他们，但玖健·黎德坚持要亲眼看看。他做过绿色之梦，绿色之梦不会骗人。梦怎能开门呢？布兰心想。

Bran had told them there wouldn’t be. He had told them and told them, but Jojen Reed had insisted on seeing for himself. He had had a green dream, he said, and his green dreams did not lie. They don’t open any gates either, thought Bran.

自从黑衣弟兄们收拾行李，弃守此处，前往深湖居之后，长夜堡的大门就一直封闭：钢铁闸门放下，拉提的链条被卸除，而通道里塞满大大小小的石头，全冻在一起，直到跟长城本身一样难以穿透。“我们该跟琼恩走的。”布兰看到这番景象之后评论。自从那晚透过夏天看着琼恩在暴风雨中骑马逃走，布兰就常想起自己的私生哥哥。“找到国王大道，然后去黑城堡。”

The gate the Nightfort guarded had been sealed since the day the black brothers had loaded up their mules and garrons and departed for Deep Lake; its iron portcullis lowered, the chains that raised it carried off, the tunnel packed with stone and rubble all frozen together until they were as impenetrable as the Wall itself. “We should have followed Jon,” Bran said when he saw it. He thought of his bastard brother often, since the night that Summer had watched him ride off through the storm. “We should have found the kingsroad and gone to Castle Black.”

“我们不敢那么做，王子殿下，”玖健说，“我告诉过你为什么。”

“We dare not, my prince,” Jojen said. “I’ve told you why.”

“但野人怎么办呀！他们杀了一位老人，还想杀死琼恩。玖健，他们有一百个那么多呢。”

“But there are wildlings. They killed some man and they wanted to kill Jon too. Jojen, there were a hundred of them.”

“正是如此，而我们才四人，所以更不该去。记得吗？你帮了你哥哥——如果那真是他——却差点失去夏天。”

“So you said. We are four. You helped your brother, if that was him in truth, but it almost cost you Summer.”

“我知道，”布兰悲哀地说。冰原狼杀了三个野人，或许更多，可对方数目实在惊人，很快便在那没耳朵的人周围紧密集结成一圈。夏天试图溜进雨夜，不料一支箭斜刺里飞来，突然的刺痛把布兰逼出狼形，回到自己的身躯。等雨终于停止，一行四人挤在黑暗中，没有生火，也没大声说话——基本上什么也没说。他们听着阿多沉重的呼吸，担心直到清晨，尤其担心野人们会穿湖过来。布兰不时进入夏天，但疼痛又总是立刻把他驱回，好比灼热的水壶，就算再想提，也不得不抽回手。那晚只有阿多睡着，一边念叨“阿多，阿多”，一边翻来覆去。布兰害怕夏天会在黑暗之中死去。求求你们，远古诸神，他祈祷，你们带走了临冬城，带走了我父亲，带走了我的腿，不要把夏天也带走。也请你们守护琼恩·雪诺，请你们让野人离开。

“I know,” said Bran miserably. The direwolf had killed three of them, maybe more, but there had been too many. When they formed a tight ring around the tall earless man, he had tried to slip away through the rain, but one of their arrows had come flashing after him, and the sudden stab of pain had driven Bran out of the wolf’s skin and back into his own. After the storm finally died, they had huddled in the dark without a fire, talking in whispers if they talked at all, listening to Hodor’s heavy breathing and wondering if the wildlings might try and cross the lake in the morning. Bran had reached out for Summer time and time again, but the pain he found drove him back, the way a red-hot kettle makes you pull your hand back even when you mean to grab it. Only Hodor slept that night, muttering “Hodor, hodor,” as he tossed and turned. Bran was terrified that Summer was off dying in the darkness. Please, you old gods, he prayed, you took Winterfell, and my father, and my legs, please don’t take Summer too. And watch over Jon Snow too, and make the wildlings go away.

湖中的岩石岛屿上没有鱼梁木生长，然而远古诸神似乎是听到了。第二天早上，野人们不慌不忙地准备启程，扒下自己的死者和那位老人的衣物，甚至还从湖里捞起一些鱼。有那么令人惊恐的一刻，三个人找到堤道，并试图走过来……但堤道拐弯的地方他们没拐，结果两人差点淹死，幸好被拉了上来。高大秃顶的首领朝他们吼叫，话音在湖面上回荡，连玖健都听不懂他使用的语言，片刻之后，对方收拾起盾牌和长矛，朝东北，就是琼恩离开的方向进发。布兰也想离开，去寻找夏天，但被黎德姐弟阻止。“再留一晚，”玖健道，“和野人之间拉开一段距离，再碰上他们可不好，对吧？”欣慰的是，当天下午，夏天拖着一条伤腿从藏身之处返回。他赶走乌鸦，吃了点客栈里的尸体，然后游到岛上。梅拉从他腿上拔出断箭，给伤口抹上某种植物的汁液，那是她在塔楼基座附近找到的。冰原狼仍一瘸一拐，但布兰觉得他每天都有好转。诸神毕竟听见了祈祷。

No weirwoods grew on that stony island in the lake, yet somehow the old gods must have heard. The wildlings took their sweet time about departing the next morning, stripping the bodies of their dead and the old man they’d killed, even pulling a few fish from the lake, and there was a scary moment when three of them found the causeway and started to walk out … but the path turned and they didn’t, and two of them nearly drowned before the others pulled them out. The tall bald man yelled at them, his words echoing across the water in some tongue that even Jojen did not know, and a little while later they gathered up their shields and spears and marched off north by east, the same way Jon had gone. Bran wanted to leave too, to look for Summer, but the Reeds said no. “We will stay another night,” said Jojen, “put some leagues between us and the wildlings. You don’t want to meet them again, do you?” Late that afternoon Summer returned from wherever he’d been hiding, dragging his back leg. He ate parts of the bodies in the inn, driving off the crows, then swam out to the island. Meera had drawn the broken arrow from his leg and rubbed the wound with the juice of some plants she found growing around the base of the tower. The direwolf was still limping, but a little less each day, it seemed to Bran. The gods had heard.

“也许我们该试试其他城堡，”梅拉对弟弟说，“也许有别的门可以通过。如果你们愿意，我去探察，一个人走得比较快。”

“Maybe we should try another castle,” Meera said to her brother. “Maybe we could get through the gate somewhere else. I could go scout if you wanted, I’d make better time by myself.”

布兰摇摇头，“往东，有深湖居和王后门，往西则是冰痕城。它们跟这里一样，只是规模稍小。所有门都封住了，除了黑城堡、东海望和影子塔。”

Bran shook his head. “If you go east there’s Deep Lake, then Queensgate. West is Icemark. But they’ll be the same, only smaller. All the gates are sealed except the ones at Castle Black, Eastwatch, and the Shadow Tower.”

听罢此言，阿多说，“阿多。”黎德姐弟交换一个眼神。“至少我该爬到长城顶上，”梅拉断定，“也许在上面，能看见什么东西。”

Hodor said, “Hodor,” to that, and the Reeds exchanged a look. “At least I should climb to the top of the Wall,” Meera decided. “Maybe I’ll see something up there.”

“你打算看什么？”玖健问。

“What could you hope to see?” Jojen asked.

“什么都行。”梅拉态度坚决地回答。

“Something,” said Meera, and for once she was adamant.

这事本该由我去做。布兰抬头，看着长城，想像自己一寸一寸地往上爬，手指挖进冰缝中，脚尖踢出落脚处，不由得露出微笑。狼梦、野人和琼恩等等全都不再重要。他打小就攀爬过临冬城的墙垒和所有塔楼，但它们没这么高，而且是石头做的。长城看起来也像石头，灰蒙蒙的，表面坑坑洼洼，但等云层散开，阳光普照，情况就完全不同。它一下子变了样，闪烁着白色和蓝色的莹光。这是世界的尽头，老奶妈常说，对面为怪兽、巨人族和食尸鬼的住所，但只要长城牢牢矗立，它们就都过不来。我想跟着梅拉一起上去，布兰心想，站在上面看一看。

It should be me. Bran raised his head to look up at the Wall, and imagined himself climbing inch by inch, squirming his fingers into cracks in the ice and kicking footholds with his toes. That made him smile in spite of everything, the dreams and the wildlings and Jon and everything. He had climbed the walls of Winterfell when he was little, and all the towers too, but none of them had been so high, and they were only stone. The Wall could look like stone, all grey and pitted, but then the clouds would break and the sun would hit it differently, and all at once it would transform, and stand there white and blue and glittering. It was the end of the world, Old Nan always said. On the other side were monsters and giants and ghouls, but they could not pass so long as the Wall stood strong. I want to stand on top with Meera, Bran thought. I want to stand on top and see.

但他是个残废的小男孩，有一双没用的腿，因此只能从底下眼睁睁目睹梅拉代替自己爬上去。

But he was a broken boy with useless legs, so all he could do was watch from below as Meera went up in his stead.

她并非在爬，不像以前的他。她只不过沿着守夜人数千年前凿出的阶梯往上走。记得鲁温学士说过，只有长夜堡的楼梯是从长城本身的冰壁里凿出来的。或许这是班扬叔叔说的？往后的城堡都用木楼梯、石楼梯或泥土沙砾混合的长坡道。冰太难捉摸，叔叔如是说，长城尽管内核冻得像石头般坚硬，但表面时而融化，流下冰冷的溪流，犹如哭泣。自从最后一批黑衣弟兄离开城堡，那阶梯一定融化又冻结了上千次，每次都会缩小一点，变得更平整，更圆滑，更危险。

She wasn’t really climbing, the way he used to climb. She was only walking up some steps that the Night’s Watch had hewn hundreds and thousands of years ago. He remembered Maester Luwin saying the Nightfort was the only castle where the steps had been cut from the ice of the Wall itself. Or maybe it had been Uncle Benjen. The newer castles had wooden steps, or stone ones, or long ramps of earth and gravel. Ice is too treacherous. It was his uncle who’d told him that. He said that the outer surface of the Wall wept icy tears sometimes, though the core inside stayed frozen hard as rock. The steps must have melted and refrozen a thousand times since the last black brothers left the castle, and every time they did they shrunk a little and got smoother and rounder and more treacherous.

而且更窄小。好像长城要将它们重新收回去。梅拉·黎德脚步稳健，即使如此，还是走得很慢，逐级逐级前进。有两个地方，阶梯几乎消失，她就匍匐着手脚并用。下来更难，布兰心想。最后她终于到达顶端，踏过楼梯最高处仅存的若干冰晶凸起，消失于视线之外。

And smaller. It’s almost like the Wall was swallowing them back into itself. Meera Reed was very surefooted, but even so she was going slowly, moving from nub to nub. In two places where the steps were hardly there at all she got down on all fours. It will be worse when she comes down, Bran thought, watching. Even so, he wished it was him up there. When she reached the top, crawling up the icy knobs that were all that remained of the highest steps, Meera vanished from his sight.

“她什么时候下来？”布兰问玖健。

“When will she come down?” Bran asked Jojen.

“适当的时候吧。她要好好看看……长城，看看另一边。我们也该在下面看看。”

“When she is ready. She will want to have a good look … at the Wall and what’s beyond. We should do the same down here.”

“阿多？”阿多怀疑地说。

“Hodor?” said Hodor, doubtfully.

“也许能发现什么。”玖健坚持。

“We might find something,” Jojen insisted.

或者被什么发现。这话布兰说不出口，他不想让玖健认为自己是胆小鬼。

Or something might find us. Bran couldn’t say it, though; he did not want Jojen to think he was craven.

于是他们着手探察，玖健·黎德领头，布兰坐在阿多背上的篮子里，夏天走在他们身旁。途中，冰原狼窜进某个黑乎乎的门里，片刻之后，叼着一只灰老鼠回来。这就是“鼠厨师”？布兰心想，但颜色不对，而且才猫的体形。“鼠厨师”可是白的，几乎有老母猪般硕大……

So they went exploring, Jojen Reed leading, Bran in his basket on Hodor’s back, Summer padding by their side. Once the direwolf bolted through a dark door and returned a moment later with a grey rat between his teeth. The Rat Cook, Bran thought, but it was the wrong color, and only as big as a cat. The Rat Cook was white, and almost as huge as a sow …

长夜堡有许多黑乎乎的门，也有许多老鼠。布兰可以听见它们在地窖和连接地窖的通道里乱爬，黑漆漆的通道好比迷宫，玖健想下去侦察，但阿多说“阿多”，布兰说“不”。长夜堡底的黑暗中有比老鼠更糟的东西。

There were a lot of dark doors in the Nightfort, and a lot of rats. Bran could hear them scurrying through the vaults and cellars, and the maze of pitch-black tunnels that connected them. Jojen wanted to go poking around down there, but Hodor said “Hodor” to that, and Bran said “No.” There were worse things than rats down in the dark beneath the Nightfort.

“这看起来是个古老的地方。”玖健沿着走廊行走，太阳从空洞的窗户照入，投射出道道充满灰尘的光柱。

“This seems an old place,” Jojen said as they walked down a gallery where the sunlight fell in dusty shafts through empty windows.

“比黑城堡古老一倍，”布兰边回忆边说，“它是长城上第一座堡垒，最大的一座。”也是第一座被遗弃的堡垒，早在“人瑞王”的时代。那时候，已有四分之三的房间空着，维护的开销太大。“善良的”亚莉珊王后建议守夜人在东面七里远的地方兴建另一座小规模的新城堡作为代替，在那里，长城沿一个美丽的绿色湖泊弯曲延伸。建造深湖居的费用出自王后变卖的首饰，并由“人瑞王”派人一路前往北方负责修筑，随后，黑衣弟兄们将长夜堡留给了老鼠。

“Twice as old as Castle Black,” Bran said, remembering. “It was the first castle on the Wall, and the largest.” But it had also been the first abandoned, all the way back in the time of the Old King. Even then it had been three-quarters empty and too costly to maintain. Good Queen Alysanne had suggested that the Watch replace it with a smaller, newer castle at a spot only seven miles east, where the Wall curved along the shore of a beautiful green lake. Deep Lake had been paid for by the queen’s jewels and built by the men the Old King had sent north, and the black brothers had abandoned the Nightfort to the rats.

那是两个世纪之前的事。如今，深湖居也跟它所取代的城堡一样废弃空旷，而长夜堡……

That was two centuries past, though. Now Deep Lake stood as empty as the castle it had replaced, and the Nightfort …

“这里有鬼魂。”布兰说。阿多也许听过所有的故事，玖健可不见得。“非常古老的鬼魂，比‘人瑞王’更老，甚至比‘龙王’伊耿还老。鬼魂乃是七十九名背弃誓言，前往南方的逃兵，被到处通缉。他们中有一位是莱斯威尔伯爵的幼子，因此领队伍前往荒冢地，去他的城堡寻求庇护，不料伯爵却将他们绳之以法，送回长夜堡。总司令命人在长城顶上凿出七十九个洞，把逃兵们关进去，活活封进冰里。他们手执长矛与号角，全部面朝北方，被称为‘七十九守卫’。他们活着的时候离开了岗位，死后便要永远站岗。多年之后，莱斯威尔伯爵衰老垂危，临死前命人把自己抬到长城，好穿上黑衣，站在儿子身边。为了荣誉他将儿子送回长城，但心底仍深爱着他，因此来与他一起站岗。”

“There are ghosts here,” Bran said. Hodor had heard all the stories before, but Jojen might not have. “Old ghosts, from before the Old King, even before Aegon the Dragon, seventy-nine deserters who went south to be outlaws. One was Lord Ryswell’s youngest son, so when they reached the barrowlands they sought shelter at his castle, but Lord Ryswell took them captive and returned them to the Nightfort. The Lord Commander had holes hewn in the top of the Wall and he put the deserters in them and sealed them up alive in the ice. They have spears and horns and they all face north. The seventy-nine sentinels, they’re called. They left their posts in life, so in death their watch goes on forever. Years later, when Lord Ryswell was old and dying, he had himself carried to the Nightfort so he could take the black and stand beside his son. He’d sent him back to the Wall for honor’s sake, but he loved him still, so he came to share his watch.”

他们花了半天时间在城堡里探索。有些塔已经倒掉，另一些看起来不太安稳，但一行三人登了钟楼（钟已经不见）和鸦巢（鸟也不见了）。酿酒房下，满地窖的巨大橡木桶，阿多敲打它们，发出空洞的声响。他们找到一个图书馆（书架和书柜都已崩塌，书一本都没有，到处是老鼠）和一个潮湿昏暗的地牢，牢房足够容纳五百名囚犯，但当布兰抓住一根生锈的栏杆，它却在他手中断裂开来。大厅只剩一面残墙，澡堂沉入地下，一片巨大的荆棘丛占领了兵器库外黑衣弟兄们昔日操练枪矛、盾牌和长剑的校场，铁匠铺虽还立着，但蜘蛛网、老鼠和灰尘取代了刀剑、风箱与砧板。有时，夏天会听见布兰听不到的声音，或朝莫名的方向咧牙露齿，颈背毛发直立……但“鼠厨师”、“七十九守卫”和“疯斧”终究没有露面。布兰松了口气。也许这只不过是座废弃的空城堡。

They spent half the day poking through the castle. Some of the towers had fallen down and others looked unsafe, but they climbed the bell tower (the bells were gone) and the rookery (the birds were gone). Beneath the brewhouse they found a vault of huge oaken casks that boomed hollowly when Hodor knocked on them. They found a library (the shelves and bins had collapsed, the books were gone, and rats were everywhere). They found a dank and dim-lit dungeon with cells enough to hold five hundred captives, but when Bran grabbed hold of one of the rusted bars it broke off in his hand. Only one crumbling wall remained of the great hall, the bathhouse seemed to be sinking into the ground, and a huge thornbush had conquered the practice yard outside the armory where black brothers had once labored with spear and shield and sword. The armory and the forge still stood, however, though cobwebs, rats, and dust had taken the places of blades, bellows, and anvil. Sometimes Summer would hear sounds that Bran seemed deaf to, or bare his teeth at nothing, the fur on the back of his neck bristling … but the Rat Cook never put in an appearance, nor the seventy-nine sentinels, nor Mad Axe. Bran was much relieved. Maybe it is only a ruined empty castle.

等到梅拉回来，阳光在西方的山顶只剩点点余晖。“你看到什么？”她弟弟玖健问。

By the time Meera returned, the sun was only a sword’s breath above the western hills. “What did you see?” her brother Jojen asked her.

“我看到鬼影森林，”她用渴望的语调说，“目力所及，处处是高耸的山峰，覆盖着从未被刀斧砍伐的树木；我看到阳光在湖面闪烁，云层从西方飘来；我看到堆堆陈旧的积雪，矛一般长的冰锥；我甚至看到一只老鹰在长天盘旋，它也看到了我。我还朝他挥手呢。”

“I saw the haunted forest,” she said in a wistful tone. “Hills rising wild as far as the eye can see, covered with trees that no axe has ever touched. I saw the sunlight glinting off a lake, and clouds sweeping in from the west. I saw patches of old snow, and icicles long as pikes. I even saw an eagle circling. I think he saw me too. I waved at him.”

“有没看到下去的路？”玖健问。

“Did you see a way down?” asked Jojen.

她摇摇头。“没有。完全是一面峭壁，冰壁如此光滑……若有一根好绳子和一把锋利的斧头，我也许能下去，但……”

She shook her head. “No. It’s a sheer drop, and the ice is so smooth … I might be able to make the descent if I had a good rope and an axe to chop out handholds, but …”

“……我们不行，”玖健替她说完。

“… but not us,” Jojen finished.

“对，”他姐姐赞同，“你肯定这里是梦见的地方？也许我们来到了错误的城堡呢。”

“No,” his sister agreed. “Are you sure this is the place you saw in your dream? Maybe we have the wrong castle.”

“不。就是这个城堡。这里有道门。”

“No. This is the castle. There is a gate here.”

的确有道门，布兰心想，但它被石头和冰给堵住了。

Yes, thought Bran, but it’s blocked by stone and ice.

太阳落坡，塔楼的影子渐渐拉长，风也越来越强，将堆堆枯叶“哗哗”地吹过庭院。逐渐凝聚的黑暗让布兰想起老奶妈的另一个故事，“夜王”的故事。他是守夜人军团第十三任总司令，她谈到，一位从无恐惧的战士。“这是他的缺陷，”她接着补充，“所有人都该明白恐惧的感受。”一个女人导致他的堕落，一个女人从长城之巅望下来，肌肤仿佛月亮般苍白，眼睛犹如蓝色的星。他毫无畏缩地追求她，占有她，并爱上了她，尽管她像玄冰一样寒冷。他将种子撒进她体内的同时，也将灵魂交给了她。

As the sun began to set the shadows of the towers lengthened and the wind blew harder, sending gusts of dry dead leaves rattling through the yards. The gathering gloom put Bran in mind of another of Old Nan’s stories, the tale of Night’s King. He had been the thirteenth man to lead the Night’s Watch, she said; a warrior who knew no fear. “And that was the fault in him,” she would add, “for all men must know fear.” A woman was his downfall; a woman glimpsed from atop the Wall, with skin as white as the moon and eyes like blue stars. Fearing nothing, he chased her and caught her and loved her, though her skin was cold as ice, and when he gave his seed to her he gave his soul as well.

于是他把她带回长夜堡，立为王后，而自己是国王，并用诡异的魔法誓言让弟兄们服从意旨。“夜王”和他的尸鬼王后统治了十三年，直到最终，临冬城的史塔克家和野人王乔曼联合起来解开守夜人的束缚。在他死后，人们发现他曾向异鬼奉献祭品，于是所有“夜王”的记录全被销毁，他的名字成为禁忌。

He brought her back to the Nightfort and proclaimed her a queen and himself her king, and with strange sorceries he bound his Sworn Brothers to his will. For thirteen years they had ruled, Night’s King and his corpse queen, till finally the Stark of Winterfell and Joramun of the wildlings had joined to free the Watch from bondage. After his fall, when it was found he had been sacrificing to the Others, all records of Night’s King had been destroyed, his very name forbidden.

“有人说他是波顿家的人，”老奶妈每每如此总结，“有人说他是斯卡格斯岛的马格拿，还有人说他来自安柏家、菲林特家或诺瑞家，更有人要你相信，他出自伍德福特家——他们在铁民之前统治熊岛。其实根本不是，他是个史塔克，而将他击败的则是他的兄弟。”说到此处，她总捏住布兰的鼻子，他至今不能忘怀。“他是临冬城的史塔克，也许就叫布兰登，谁说得准呢？也许他就在这个房间，这张床上睡过。”

“Some say he was a Bolton,” Old Nan would always end. “Some say a Magnar out of Skagos, some say Umber, Flint, or Norrey. Some would have you think he was a Woodfoot, from them who ruled Bear Island before the ironmen came. He never was. He was a Stark, the brother of the man who brought him down.” She always pinched Bran on the nose then, he would never forget it. “He was a Stark of Winterfell, and who can say? Mayhaps his name was Brandon. Mayhaps he slept in this very bed in this very room.”

不，布兰心想，但他的确曾在这座城堡，在我们今晚睡觉的地方活动。他一点也不喜欢这念头。按照老奶妈的说法，“夜王”在白天只是个普通人，但统治着黑夜。而现在天正在变黑。

No, Bran thought, but he walked in this castle, where we’ll sleep tonight. He did not like that notion very much at all. Night’s King was only a man by light of day, Old Nan would always say, but the night was his to rule. And it’s getting dark.

黎德姐弟决定睡在厨房，那是一幢八角形的石头房子，拱项虽已残破，但看起来比其他建筑物能提供更好的遮蔽。屋子中央一口大井边，有棵弯弯曲曲的鱼梁木从石地板上冒出来，斜伸向屋顶上的洞，白骨般的树枝指向太阳。这是一棵怪异的树，比布兰见过的其他鱼梁木都细瘦，而且没有脸，却让他感觉远古诸神与自己同在。

The Reeds decided that they would sleep in the kitchens, a stone octagon with a broken dome. It looked to offer better shelter than most of the other buildings, even though a crooked weirwood had burst up through the slate floor beside the huge central well, stretching slantwise toward the hole in the roof, its bone-white branches reaching for the sun. It was a queer kind of tree, skinnier than any other weirwood that Bran had ever seen and faceless as well, but it made him feel as if the old gods were with him here, at least.

然而那是厨房唯一令他喜欢的地方。屋顶大部分没塌，若下雨的话，可以遮蔽他们，但他认定在这里绝不可能暖和，随时都能感觉到寒气从石板地里渗上来。布兰也不喜欢处处的阴影，不喜欢那些巨大的砖炉像张开的嘴一样包围着他们，不喜欢生锈的肉钩，不喜欢沿墙排列、满是疤痕污渍的屠宰台。他知道，“鼠厨师”就是在这里把王子切成碎块，并用其中一个炉子烤人肉馅饼。

That was the only thing he liked about the kitchens, though. The roof was mostly there, so they’d be dry if it rained again, but he didn’t think they would ever get warm here. You could feel the cold seeping up through the slate floor. Bran did not like the shadows either, or the huge brick ovens that surrounded them like open mouths, or the rusted meat hooks, or the scars and stains he saw in the butcher’s block along one wall. That was where the Rat Cook chopped the prince to pieces, he knew, and he baked the pie in one of these ovens.

那口井他最不喜欢。足足十二尺宽，全由石头砌成，侧面还建有阶梯，盘旋而下，进入黑暗之中。井壁湿乎乎的，覆满水垢，深不见底，甚至连梅拉那对属于猎人的敏锐眼睛也毫无办法。“也许它没底呢，”布兰怀疑地说。

The well was the thing he liked the least, though. It was a good twelve feet across, all stone, with steps built into its side, circling down and down into darkness. The walls were damp and covered with niter, but none of them could see the water at the bottom, not even Meera with her sharp hunter’s eyes. “Maybe it doesn’t have a bottom,” Bran said uncertainly.

阿多越过齐膝高的井沿窥视，他说，“阿多！”声音顺井向下回荡，“阿多阿多阿多阿多，”越来越弱，“阿多阿多阿多阿多，”直到比耳语更轻。阿多似乎吓了一跳，然后呵呵大笑，弯腰从地板上挖起一块破碎的石片。

Hodor peered over the knee-high lip of the well and said, “HODOR!” The word echoed down the well, “Hodorhodorhodorhodor,” fainter and fainter, “hodorhodorhodorhodor,” until it was less than a whisper. Hodor looked startled. Then he laughed, and bent to scoop a broken piece of slate off the floor.

“阿多，不要！”布兰说，但太晚了。阿多将石片扔过了边缘。“你不该这么做，不知道下面有什么。也许会伤到什么，或者……或者唤醒什么。”

“Hodor, don’t!” said Bran, but too late. Hodor tossed the slate over the edge. “You shouldn’t have done that. You don’t know what’s down there. You might have hurt something, or … or woken something up.”

阿多无辜地看着他。“阿多？”

Hodor looked at him innocently. “Hodor?”

在下方很远很远的地方，石头碰到水面，传来一声响。老实说那不太像水花溅起的声音，更像某种吞咽，仿佛什么东西颤抖着张开冰冷的嘴，吞下阿多的石头。微弱的回音沿井道传播，片刻之间，布兰觉得有东西在动，在水里翻滚。“也许我们不该留在这儿，”他不安地说。

Far, far, far below, they heard the sound as the stone found water. It wasn’t a splash, not truly. It was more a gulp, as if whatever was below had opened a quivering gelid mouth to swallow Hodor’s stone. Faint echoes traveled up the well, and for a moment Bran thought he heard something moving, thrashing about in the water. “Maybe we shouldn’t stay here,” he said uneasily.

“不在井边？”梅拉问，“不在长夜堡？”

“By the well?” asked Meera. “Or in the Nightfort?”

“是的。”布兰不假思索地回答。

“Yes,” said Bran.

她笑了，然后让阿多出去收集木头。夏天也要出去，此时天已差不多全黑，冰原狼想捕猎。

She laughed, and sent Hodor out to gather wood. Summer went too. It was almost dark by then, and the direwolf wanted to hunt.

良久，阿多独自归来，捧回满满一堆枯木断枝。玖健·黎德拿出火石和匕首，燃起一堆火，而梅拉给鱼剔骨头，那是经过上一条小河时，她逮住的。布兰疑惑地想，不知已有多少年没人在长夜堡的厨房里煮晚餐，他也想知道，有谁曾在这里烹饪，但也许还是不要清楚的好。

Hodor returned alone with both arms full of deadwood and broken branches. Jojen Reed took his flint and knife and set about lighting a fire while Meera boned the fish she’d caught at the last stream they’d crossed. Bran wondered how many years had passed since there had last been a supper cooked in the kitchens of the Nightfort. He wondered who had cooked it too, though maybe it was better not to know.

等到火苗愉悦地燃烧，梅拉便将鱼放上去。至少这不是人肉馅饼。“鼠厨师”烹煮安达尔国王的儿子，外加洋葱、胡萝卜和蘑菇，做成一个大馅饼，再撒上胡椒与盐巴，搭配培根肉，暗红色的多恩葡萄酒。馅饼呈给孩子的父亲，父亲赞其美味，并叫厨师再来一块。后来，诸神把厨师变成一只巨大的白老鼠，只能吃自己的小孩。从此以后，他就在长夜堡内游荡，吞食子孙，但饥饿感却永远无法满足。“诸神不是因为谋杀而诅咒他，”老奶妈道，“也不是因为给安达尔国王吃自己儿子做的馅饼。一个人有权复仇，但杀害自家屋檐下的宾客，践踏宾客权利，诸神决不原谅。”

When the flames were blazing nicely Meera put the fish on. At least it’s not a meat pie. The Rat Cook had cooked the son of the Andal king in a big pie with onions, carrots, mushrooms, lots of pepper and salt, a rasher of bacon, and a dark red Dornish wine. Then he served him to his father, who praised the taste and had a second slice. Afterward the gods transformed the cook into a monstrous white rat who could only eat his own young. He had roamed the Nightfort ever since, devouring his children, but still his hunger was not sated. “It was not for murder that the gods cursed him,” Old Nan said, “nor for serving the Andal king his son in a pie. A man has a right to vengeance. But he slew a guest beneath his roof, and that the gods cannot forgive.”

“该睡了，”吃饱之后，玖健严肃地说。火焰烧得微弱，他用棍子拨了拨。“也许我会再做绿色之梦，为我们指引方向。”

“We should sleep,” Jojen said solemnly, after they were full. The fire was burning low. He stirred it with a stick. “Perhaps I’ll have another green dream to show us the way.”

阿多早已蜷起身子，低声打鼾。他不时在斗篷下翻身，轻声呜咽，也许在说“阿多”罢。布兰扭动着靠近火堆，温暖的热气让他感觉舒适，轻微的劈啪声令他心安，但始终睡不着。外面的风将枯叶大军吹过庭院，轻轻刮擦门窗，他又联想起老奶妈的故事，几乎听到守卫的鬼魂在长城顶上遥相呼应，吹响幽灵战号。苍白的月光斜斜地投射进拱顶上的洞，照亮了鱼梁木那拼命伸展的枝杈。那棵树看起来似乎企图抓住月亮，将它拖进井里。远古诸神，布兰祈祷，如果你们听得见，今晚请不要让我做梦。即使非做不可，也做一个好梦。诸神没有回答。

Hodor was already curled up and snoring lightly. From time to time he thrashed beneath his cloak, and whimpered something that might have been “Hodor.” Bran wriggled closer to the fire. The warmth felt good, and the soft crackling of flames soothed him, but sleep would not come. Outside the wind was sending armies of dead leaves marching across the courtyards to scratch faintly at the doors and windows. The sounds made him think of Old Nan’s stories. He could almost hear the ghostly sentinels calling to each other atop the Wall and winding their ghostly warhorns. Pale moonlight slanted down through the hole in the dome, painting the branches of the weirwood as they strained up toward the roof. It looked as if the tree was trying to catch the moon and drag it down into the well. Old gods, Bran prayed, if you hear me, don’t send a dream tonight. Or if you do, make it a good dream. The gods made no answer.

布兰让自己闭上眼睛。或许真的睡过一会儿，或许不过是迷迷糊糊地犯困，游离在半梦半醒之间，努力不去想“疯斧”、“鼠厨师”及夜间出没的妖怪。

Bran made himself close his eyes. Maybe he even slept some, or maybe he was just drowsing, floating the way you do when you are half awake and half asleep, trying not to think about Mad Axe or the Rat Cook or the thing that came in the night.

然后听到了声音。

Then he heard the noise.

他立时睁开双目。那是什么？他屏住呼吸，在做梦吗？做一个愚蠢的恶梦？他不想为一个恶梦叫醒梅拉和玖健，但是……听……轻微的摩擦，远处……树叶，是树叶在外墙上婆娑，以及互相摩擦发出的瑟瑟声……或者是风，很可能是风……但那声音并非来自外面。布兰胳膊上汗毛直竖。那声音在里面，就在我们中间，而且越来越响。他单肘撑起身子，仔细聆听。确实有风声，树叶声，但引起他注意的是另外一种。脚步声。什么人正朝这里走来。什么东西正朝这里走来。

His eyes opened. What was that? He held his breath. Did I dream it? Was I having a stupid nightmare? He didn’t want to wake Meera and Jojen for a bad dream, but … there … a soft scuffling sound, far off … Leaves, it’s leaves rattling off the walls outside and rustling together … or the wind, it could be the wind … The sound wasn’t coming from outside, though. Bran felt the hairs on his arm start to rise. The sound’s inside, it’s in here with us, and it’s getting louder. He pushed himself up onto an elbow, listening. There was wind, and blowing leaves as well, but this was something else. Footsteps. Someone was coming this way. Something was coming this way.

不会是那些守卫，他心想，他们从不离开长城。但长夜堡里可能有别的鬼魂呀，更可怕的鬼魂。记得老奶妈讲过“疯斧”如何脱下靴子，赤脚在黑暗中游荡于城堡各个厅内，不发出任何声响，不让任何人知晓——除非你见到从他斧子、手肘和湿乎乎的红胡子尖上滴下的鲜血。这可能不是“疯斧”，而是那夜间出没的妖怪。据老奶妈说，小学徒们统统见过妖怪，但当报告总司令时，每人的描述又都不一样。接着，一年之内死了三个学徒，第四个发了疯，一百年后，那妖怪再次出现，人们看到小学徒们步履蹒跚、拴着锁链跟在它后面。

It wasn’t the sentinels, he knew. The sentinels never left the Wall. But there might be other ghosts in the Nightfort, ones even more terrible. He remembered what Old Nan had said of Mad Axe, how he took his boots off and prowled the castle halls barefoot in the dark, with never a sound to tell you where he was except for the drops of blood that fell from his axe and his elbows and the end of his wet red beard. Or maybe it wasn’t Mad Axe at all, maybe it was the thing that came in the night. The ’prentice boys all saw it, Old Nan said, but afterward when they told their Lord Commander every description had been different. And three died within the year, and the fourth went mad, and a hundred years later when the thing had come again, the ’prentice boys were seen shambling along behind it, all in chains.