grrm.astormofswords-第169章

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　〃Lady　Catelyn；〃　he　replied；　his　voice　faint；　〃it　is　a　pleasure　to　look　on　you　again；　even　in　such　trying　times。〃
　〃You　are　kind　to　say　so。〃　Catelyn　could　feel　gloom　in　the　room。　Even　the　Greatjon　seemed　somber　and　subdued。　She　looked　at　their　grim　faces　and　said；　〃What's　happened？〃
　〃Lannisters　on　the　Trident；〃　said　Ser　Wendel　unhappily。　〃My　brother　is　taken　again。〃
　〃And　Lord　Bolton　has　brought　us　further　word　of　Winterfell；〃　Robb　added。　〃Ser　Rodrik　was　not　the　only　good　man　to　die。　Cley　Cerwyn　and　Leobald　Tallhart　were　slain　as　well。〃
　〃Cley　Cerwyn　was　only　a　boy；〃　she　said；　saddened。　〃Is　this　true；　then？　All　dead；　and　Winterfell　gone？〃
　Bolton's　pale　eyes　met　her　own。　〃The　ironmen　burned　both　castle　and　winter　town。　Some　of　your　people　were　taken　back　to　the　Dreadfort　by　my　son；　Ramsay。〃
　〃Your　bastard　was　accused　of　grievous　crimes；〃　Catelyn　reminded　him　sharply。　〃Of　murder；　rape；　and　worse。〃
　〃Yes；〃　Roose　Bolton　said。　〃His　blood　is　tainted；　that　cannot　be　denied。　Yet　he　is　a　good　fighter；　as　cunning　as　he　is　fearless。　When　the　ironmen　cut　down　Ser　Rodrik；　and　Leobald　Tallhart　soon　after；　it　fell　to　Ramsay　to　lead　the　battle；　and　he　did。　He　swears　that　he　shall　not　sheathe　his　sword　so　long　as　a　single　Greyjoy　remains　in　the　north。　Perhaps　such　service　might　atone　in　some　small　measure　for　whatever　crimes　his　bastard　blood　has　led　him　to　mit。〃　He　shrugged。　〃Or　not。　When　the　war　is　done；　His　Grace　must　weigh　and　judge。　By　then　I　hope　to　have　a　trueborn　son　by　Lady　Walda。〃
　This　is　a　cold　man；　Catelyn　realized；　not　for　the　first　time。
　〃Did　Ramsay　mention　Theon　Greyjoy？〃　Robb　demanded。　〃Was　he　slain　as　well；　or　did　he　flee？〃
　Roose　Bolton　removed　a　ragged　strip　of　leather　from　the　pouch　at　his　belt。　〃My　son　sent　this　with　his　letter。〃
　Ser　Wendel　turned　his　fat　face　away。　Robin　Flint　and　Smalljon　Umber　exchanged　a　look；　and　the　Greatjon　snorted　like　a　bull。　〃Is　that　。　。　。　skin？〃　said　Robb。
　〃The　skin　from　the　little　finger　of　Theon　Greyjoy's　left　hand。　My　son　is　cruel；　I　confess　it。　And　yet　。　。　。　what　is　a　little　skin；　against　the　lives　of　two　young　princes？　You　were　their　mother；　my　lady。　May　I　offer　you　this　。　。　。　small　token　of　revenge？〃
　Part　of　Catelyn　wanted　to　clutch　the　grisly　trophy　to　her　heart；　but　she　made　herself　resist。　〃Put　it　away。　Please。〃
　〃Flaying　Theon　will　not　bring　my　brothers　back；〃　Robb　said。　〃I　want　his　head；　not　his　skin。〃
　〃He　is　Balon　Greyjoy's　only　living　son；〃　Lord　Bolton　said　softly；　as　if　they　had　forgotten；　〃and　now　rightful　King　of　the　Iron　Islands。　A　captive　king　has　great　value　as　a　hostage。〃
　〃Hostage？〃　The　word　raised　Catelyn's　hackles。　Hostages　were　oft　exchanged。　〃Lord　Bolton；　I　hope　you　are　not　suggesting　that　we　free　the　man　who　killed　my　sons。〃
　〃Whoever　wins　the　Seastone　Chair　will　want　Theon　Greyjoy　dead；〃　Bolton　pointed　out。　〃Even　in　chains；　he　has　a　better　claim　than　any　of　his　uncles。　Hold　him；　I　say；　and　demand　concessions　from　the　ironborn　as　the　price　of　his　execution。〃
　Robb　considered　that　reluctantly；　but　in　the　end　he　nodded。　〃Yes。　Very　well。　Keep　him　alive；　then。　For　the　present。　Hold　him　secure　at　the　Dreadfort　till　we've　retaken　the　north。〃
　Catelyn　turned　back　to　Roose　Bolton。　〃Ser　Wendel　said　something　of　Lannisters　on　the　Trident？〃
　〃He　did；　my　lady。　I　blame　myself。　I　delayed　too　long　before　leaving　Harrenhal。　Aenys　Frey　departed　several　days　before　me　and　crossed　the　Trident　at　the　ruby　ford；　though　not　without　difficulty。　But　by　the　time　we　came　up　the　river　was　a　torrent。　I　had　no　choice　but　to　ferry　my　men　across　in　small　boats；　of　which　we　had　too　few。　Two…thirds　of　my　strength　was　on　the　north　side　when　the　Lannisters　attacked　those　still　waiting　to　cross。　Norrey；　Locke；　and　Burley　men　chiefly；　with　Ser　Wylis　Manderly　and　his　White　Harbor　knights　as　rear　guard。　I　was　on　the　wrong　side　of　the　Trident；　powerless　to　help　them。　Ser　Wylis　rallied　our　men　as　best　he　could；　but　Gregor　Clegane　attacked　with　heavy　horse　and　drove　them　into　the　river。　As　many　drowned　as　were　cut　down。　More　fled；　and　the　rest　were　taken　captive。〃
　Gregor　Clegane　was　always　ill　news；　Catelyn　reflected。　Would　Robb　need　to　march　south　again　to　deal　with　him？　Or　was　the　Mountain　ing　here？　〃is　Clegane　across　the　river；　then？〃
　〃No。〃　Bolton's　voice　was　soft；　but　certain。　〃I　left　six　hundred　men　at　the　ford。　Spearmen　from　the　rills；　the　mountains；　and　the　White　Knife；　a　hundred　Hornwood　longbows；　some　freeriders　and　hedge　knights；　and　a　strong　force　of　Stout　and　Cerwyn　men　to　stiffen　them。　Ronnel　Stout　and　Ser　Kyle　Condon　have　the　mand。　Ser　Kyle　was　the　late　Lord　Cerwyn's　right　hand；　as　I'm　sure　you　know；　my　lady。　Lions　swim　no　better　than　wolves。　So　long　as　the　river　runs　high；　Ser　Gregor　will　not　cross。〃
　〃The　last　thing　we　need　is　the　Mountain　at　our　backs　when　we　start　up　the　causeway；〃　said　Robb。　〃You　did　well；　my　lord。〃
　〃Your　Grace　is　too　kind。　I　suffered　grievous　losses　on　the　Green　Fork；　and　Glover　and　Tallhart　worse　at　Duskendale。〃
　〃Duskendale。〃　Robb　made　the　word　a　curse。　〃Robett　Glover　will　answer　for　that　when　I　see　him；　I　promise　you。〃
　〃A　folly；〃　Lord　Bolton　agreed；　〃but　Glover　was　heedless　after　he　learned　that　Deepwood　Motte　had　fallen。　Grief　and　fear　will　do　that　to　a　man。〃
　Duskendale　was　done　and　cold；　it　was　the　battles　still　to　e　that　worried　Catelyn。　〃How　many　men　have　you　brought　my　son？〃　she　asked　Roose　Bolton　pointedly。
　His　queer　colorless　eyes　studied　her　face　a　moment　before　he　answered。　〃Some　five　hundred　horse　and　three　thousand　foot；　my　lady。　Dreadfort　men；　in　chief；　and　some　from　Karhold。　With　the　loyalty　of　the　Karstarks　so　doubtful　now；　I　thought　it　best　to　keep　them　close。　I　regret　there　are　not　more。〃
　〃It　should　be　enough；〃　said　Robb。　〃You　will　have　mand　of　my　rear　guard；　Lord　Bolton。　I　mean　to　start　for　the　Neck　as　soon　as　my　uncle　has　been　wedded　and　bedded。　We're　going　home。〃
　
　CHAPTER　50
　ARYA
　
　The　outriders　came　on　them　an　hour　from　the　Green　Fork；　as　the　wayn　was　slogging　down　a　muddy　road。
　〃Keep　your　head　down　and　your　mouth　shut；〃　the　Hound　warned　her　as　the　three　spurred　toward　them；　a　knight　and　two　squires；　lightly　armored　and　mounted　on　fast　palfreys。　Clegane　cracked　his　whip　at　the　team；　a　pair　of　old　drays　that　had　known　better　days。　The　wayn　was　creaking　and　swaying；　its　two　huge　wooden　wheels　squeezing　mud　up　out　of　the　deep　ruts　in　the　road　with　every　turn。　Stranger　followed；　tied　to　the　wagon。
　The　big　bad…tempered　courser　wore　neither　armor；　barding；　nor　harness；　and　the　Hound　himself　was　garbed　in　splotchy　green　roughspun　and　a　soot…grey　mantle　with　a　hood　that　swallowed　his　head。　So　long　as　he　kept　his　eyes　down　you　could　not　see　his　face；　only　the　whites　of　his　eyes　peering　out。　He　looked　like　some　down…at…heels　farmer。　A　big　farmer；　though。　And　under　the　roughspun　was　boiled　leather　and　oiled　mail；　Arya　knew。　She　looked　like　a　farmer's　son；　or　maybe　a　swineherd。　And　behind　them　were　four　squat　casks　of　salt　pork　and　one　of　pickled　pigs'　feet。
　The　riders　split　and　circled　them　for　a　look　before　they　came　up　close。　Clegane　drew　the　wayn　to　a　halt　and　waited　patiently　on　their　pleasure。　The　knight　bore　spear　and　sword　while　his　squires　carried　longbows。　The　badges　on　their　jerkins　were　smaller　versions　of　the　sigil　sewn　on　their　master's　surcoat；　a　black　pitchfork　on　a　golden　bar　sinister；　upon　a　russet　field。　Arya　had　thought　of　revealing　herself　to　the　first　outriders　they　encountered；　but　she　had　always　pictured　grey…cloaked　men　with　the　direwolf　on　their　breasts。　She　might　have　risked　it　even　if　they'd　worn　the　Umber　giant　or　the　Glover　fist；　but　she　did　not　know　this　pitchfork　knight　or　whom　he　served。　The　closest　thing　to　a　pitchfork　she　had　ever　seen　at　Winterfell　was　the　trident　in　the　hand　of　Lord　Manderly's　merman。
　〃You　have　business　at　the　Twins？〃　the　knight　asked。
　〃Salt　pork　for　the　wedding　feast；　if　it　please　you；　ser。〃　The　Hound　mumbled　his　reply；　his　eyes　down；　his　face　hidden。
　〃Salt　pork　never　pleases　me。〃　The　pitchfork　knight　gave　Clegane　only　the　most　cursory　glance；　and　paid　no　attention　at　all　to　Arya；　but　he　looked　long　and　hard　at　Stranger。　The　stallion　was　no　plow　horse；　that　was　plain　at　a　glance。　One　of　the　squires　almost　wound　up