grrm.astormofswords-第135章

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　e　morning；　Septon　Utt　still　swung　beneath　the　tree；　but　the　brown　brothers　were　out　in　the　rain　with　spades；　digging　shallow　graves　for　the　other　dead。　Lord　Beric　thanked　them　for　the　night's　lodging　and　the　meal；　and　gave　them　a　bag　of　silver　stags　to　help　rebuild。　Harwin；　Likely　Luke；　and　Watty　the　Miller　went　out　scouting；　but　neither　wolves　nor　hounds　were　found。
　As　Arya　was　cinching　her　saddle　girth；　Gendry　came　up　to　say　that　he　was　sorry。　She　put　a　foot　in　the　stirrup　and　swung　up　into　her　saddle；　so　she　could　look　down　on　him　instead　of　up。　You　could　have　made　swords　at　Riverrun　for　my　brother；　she　thought；　but　what　she　said　was；　〃If　you　want　to　be　some　stupid　outlaw　knight　and　get　hanged；　why　should　I　care？　I'll　be　at　Riverrun；　ransomed；　with　my　brother。〃
　There　was　no　rain　that　day；　thankfully；　and　for　once　they　made　good　time。
　
　CHAPTER　40
　BRAN
　
　The　tower　stood　upon　an　island；　its　twin　reflected　on　the　still　blue　waters。　When　the　wind　blew；　ripples　moved　across　the　surface　of　the　lake；　chasing　one　another　like　boys　at　play。　Oak　trees　grew　thick　along　the　lakeshore；　a　dense　stand　of　them　with　a　litter　of　fallen　acorns　on　the　ground　beneath。　Beyond　them　was　the　village；　or　what　remained　of　it。
　It　was　the　first　village　they　had　seen　since　leaving　the　foothills。　Meera　had　scouted　ahead　to　make　certain　there　was　no　one　lurking　amongst　the　ruins。　Sliding　in　and　amongst　oaks　and　apple　trees　with　her　net　and　spear　in　hand；　she　startled　three　red　deer　and　sent　them　bounding　away　through？the　？rush。　Summer　saw　the　flash　of　motion　and　was　after　them　at　once。　Bran　watched　the　direwolf　lope　off；　and　for　a　moment　wanted　nothing　so　much　as　to　slip　his　skin　and　run　with　him；　but　Meera　was　waving　for　them　to　e　ahead。　Reluctantly；　he　turned　away　from　Summer　and　urged　Hodor　on；　into　the　village。　Jojen　walked　with　them。
　The　ground　from　here　to　the　Wall　was　grasslands；　Bran　knew；　fallow　fields　and　low　rolling　hills；　high　meadows　and　lowland　bogs。　It　would　be　much　easier　going　than　the　mountains　behind；　but　so　much　open　space　made　Meera　uneasy。　〃I　feel　naked；〃　she　confessed。　〃There's　no　place　to　hide。〃
　〃Who　holds　this　land？〃　Jojen　asked　Bran。
　〃The　Night's　Watch；〃　he　answered。　〃This　is　the　Gift。　The　New　Gift；　and　north　of　that　Brandon's　Gift。〃　Maester　Luwin　had　taught　him　the　history。　〃Brandon　the　Builder　gave　all　the　land　south　of　the　Wall　to　the　black　brothers；　to　a　distance　of　twenty…five　leagues。　For　their　。　。　。　for　their　sustenance　and　support。〃　He　was　proud　that　he　still　remembered　that　part。　〃Some　maesters　say　it　was　some　other　Brandon；　not　the　Builder；　but　it's　still　Brandon's　Gift。　Thousands　of　years　later；　Good　Queen　Alysanne　visited　the　Wall　on　her　dragon　Silverwing；　and　she　thought　the　Night's　Watch　was　so　brave　that　she　had　the　Old　King　double　the　size　of　their　lands；　to　fifty　leagues。　So　that　was　the　New　Gift。〃　He　waved　a　hand。　〃Here。　All　this。〃
　No　one　had　lived　in　the　village　for　long　years；　Bran　could　see。　All　the　houses　were　falling　down。　Even　the　inn。　It　had　never　been　much　of　an　inn；　to　look　at　it；　but　now　all　that　remained　was　a　stone　chimney　and　two　cracked　walls；　set　amongst　a　dozen　apple　trees。　One　was　growing　up　through　the　mon　room；　where　a　layer　of　wet　brown　leaves　and　rotting　apples　carpeted　the　floor。　The　air　was　thick　with　the　smell　of　them；　a　cloying　cidery　scent　that　was　almost　overwhelming。　Meera　stabbed　a　few　apples　with　her　frog　spear；　trying　to　find　some　still　good　enough　to　eat；　but　they　were　all　too　brown　and　wormy。
　It　was　a　peaceful　spot；　still　and　tranquil　and　lovely　to　behold；　but　Bran　thought　there　was　something　sad　about　an　empty　inn；　and　Hodor　seemed　to　feel　it　too。　〃Hodor？　〃　he　said　in　a　confused　sort　of　way。　〃Hodor？　Hodor？〃
　〃This　is　good　land。〃　Jojen　picked　up　a　handful　of　dirt；　rubbing　it　between　his　fingers。　〃A　village；　an　inn；　a　stout　holdfast　in　the　lake；　all　these　apple　trees　。　。　。　but　where　are　the　people；　Bran？　Why　would　they　leave　such　a　place？〃
　〃They　were　afraid　of　the　wildlings；〃　said　Bran。　〃Wildlings　e　over　the　Wall　or　through　the　mountains；　to　raid　and　steal　and　carry　off　women。　If　they　catch　you；　they　make　your　skull　into　a　cup　to　drink　blood；　Old　Nan　used　to　say。　The　Night's　Watch　isn't　so　strong　as　it　was　in　Brandon's　day　or　Queen　Alysanne's；　so　more　get　through。　The　places　nearest　the　Wall　got　raided　so　much　the　smallfolk　moved　south；　into　the　mountains　or　onto　the　Umber　lands　east　of　the　kingsroad。　The　Greatjon's　people　get　raided　too；　but　not　so　much　as　the　people　who　used　to　live　in　the　Gift。〃
　Jojen　Reed　turned　his　head　slowly；　listening　to　music　only　he　could　hear。　〃We　need　to　shelter　here。　There's　a　storm　ing。　A　bad　one。〃
　Bran　looked　up　at　the　sky。　It　had　been　a　beautiful　crisp　clear　autumn　day；　sunny　and　almost　warm；　but　there　were　dark　clouds　off　to　the　west　now；　that　was　true；　and　the　wind　seemed　to　be　picking　up。　〃There's　no　roof　on　the　inn　and　only　the　two　walls；〃　he　pointed　out。　〃We　should　go　out　to　the　holdfast。〃
　〃Hodor；〃　said　Hodor。　Maybe　he　agreed。
　〃We　have　no　boat；　Bran。〃　Meera　poked　through　the　leaves　idly　with　her　frog　spear。
　〃There's　a　causeway。　A　stone　causeway；　hidden　under　the　water。　We　could　walk　out。〃　They　could；　anyway；　he　would　have　to　ride　on　Hodor's　back；　but　at　least　he'd　stay　dry　that　way。
　The　Reeds　exchanged　a　look。　〃How　do　you　know　that？〃　asked　Jojen。　〃Have　you　been　here　before；　my　prince？〃
　〃No。　Old　Nan　told　me。　The　holdfast　has　a　golden　crown；　see？〃　He　pointed　across　the　lake。　You　could　see　patches　of　flaking　gold　paint　up　around　the　crenellations。　〃Queen　Alysanne　slept　there；　so　they　painted　the　merlons　gold　in　her　honor。〃
　〃A　causeway？〃　Joien　studied　the　lake。　〃You　are　certain？〃
　〃Certain；〃　said　Bran。
　Meera　found　the　foot　of　it　easily　enough；　once　she　knew　to　look；　a　stone　pathway　three　feet　wide；　leading　right　out　into　the　lake。　She　took　them　out　step　by　careful　step；　probing　ahead　with　her　frog　spear。　They　could　see　where　the　path　emerged　again；　climbing　from　the　water　onto　the　island　and　turning　into　a　short　flight　of　stone　steps　that　led　to　the　holdfast　door。
　Path；　steps；　and　door　were　in　a　straight　line；　which　made　you　think　the　causeway　ran　straight；　but　that　wasn't　so。　Under　the　lake　it　zigged　and　zagged；　going　a　third　of　a　way　around　the　island　before　jagging　back。　The　turns　were　treacherous；　and　the　long　path　meant　that　anyone　approaching　would　be　exposed　to　arrow　fire　from　the　tower　for　a　long　time。　The　hidden　stones　were　slimy　and　slippery　too；　twice　Hodor　almost　lost　his　footing　and　shouted　〃HODOR！〃　in　alarm　before　regaining　his　balance。　The　second　time　scared　Bran　badly。　If　Hodor　fell　into　the　lake　with　him　in　his　basket；　he　could　well　drown；　especially　if　the　huge　stableboy　panicked　and　forgot　that　Bran　was　there；　the　way　he　did　sometimes。　Maybe　we　should　have　stayed　at　the　inn；　under　the　apple　tree；　he　thought；　but　by　then　it　was　too　late。
　Thankfully　there　was　no　third　time；　and　the　water　never　got　up　past　Hodor's　waist；　though　the　Reeds　were　in　it　up　to　their　chests。　And　before　long　they　were　on　the　island；　climbing　the　steps　to　the　holdfast。　The　door　was　still　stout；　though　its　heavy　oak　planks　had　warped　over　the　years　and　it　could　no　longer　be　closed　pletely。　Meera　shoved　it　open　all　the　way；　the　rusted　iron　hinges　screaming。　The　lintel　was　low。　〃Duck　down；　Hodor；〃　Bran　said；　and　he　did；　but　not　enough　to　keep　Bran　from　hitting　his　head。　〃That　hurt；〃　he　plained。
　〃Hodor；〃　said　Hodor；　straightening。
　They　found　themselves　in　a　gloomy　strongroom；　barely　large　enough　to　hold　the　four　of　them。　Steps　built　into　the　inner　wall　of　the　tower　curved　away　upward　to　their　left；　downward　to　their　right；　behind　iron　grates。　Bran　looked　up　and　saw　another　grate　just　above　his　head。　A　murder　hole。　He　was　glad　there　was　no　one　up　there　now　to　pour　boiling　oil　down　on　them。
　The　grates　were　locked；　but　the　iron　bars　were　red　with　rust。　Hodor　grabbed　hold　of　the　lefthand　door　and　gave　it　a　pull；　grunting　with　effort。　Nothing　happened。　He　tried　pushing　with　no　more　success。　He　shook　the　bars；　kicked；　shoved　against　them　and　rattled　them　and　punched　the　hinges　with　a　huge　hand　until　the　air　was　filled　with　flakes　of　rust；　but　the　iron　door　would　not　budge。　The　one　down　to