grrm.astormofswords-第63章

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see　through　them；　to　the　black　beyond。　That　torch　will　burn　out　soon；　he　thought；　and　we　are　all　alone；　without　food　or　friends　or　fire。
　But　that　was　wrong。　They　weren't　alone　at　all。
　The　lower　branches　of　the　great　green　sentinel　shed　their　burden　of　snow　with　a　soft　wet　plop。　Grenn　spun；　thrusting　out　his　torch。　〃Who　goes　there？〃　A　horse's　head　emerged　from　the　darkness。　Sam　felt　a　moment's　relief；　until　he　saw　the　horse。　Hoarfrost　covered　it　like　a　sheen　of　frozen　sweat；　and　a　nest　of　stiff　black　entrails　dragged　from　its　open　belly。　On　its　back　was　a　rider　pale　as　ice。　Sam　made　a　whimpery　sound　deep　in　his　throat。　He　was　so　scared　he　might　have　pissed　himself　all　over　again；　but　the　cold　was　in　him；　a　cold　so　savage　that　his　bladder　felt　frozen　solid。　The　Other　slid　gracefully　from　the　saddle　to　stand　upon　the　snow。　Sword…slim　it　was；　and　milky　white。　Its　armor　rippled　and　shifted　as　it　moved；　and　its　feet　did　not　break　the　crust　of　the　new…fallen　snow。
　Small　Paul　unslung　the　long…hafted　axe　strapped　across　his　back。　〃Why'd　you　hurt　that　horse？　That　was　Mawney's　horse。〃
　Sam　groped　for　the　hilt　of　his　sword；　but　the　scabbard　was　empty。　He　had　lost　it　on　the　Fist；　he　remembered　too　late。
　〃Get　away！〃　Grenn　took　a　step；　thrusting　the　torch　out　before　him。　〃Away；　or　you　burn。〃　He　poked　at　it　with　the　flames。
　The　Other's　sword　gleamed　with　a　faint　blue　glow。　it　moved　toward　Grenn；　lightning　quick；　slashing。　When　the　ice　blue　blade　brushed　the　flames；　a　screech　stabbed　Sam's　ears　sharp　as　a　needle。　The　head　of　the　torch　tumbled　sideways　to　vanish　beneath　a　deep　drift　of　snow；　the　fire　snuffed　out　at　once。　And　all　Grenn　held　was　a　short　wooden　stick。　He　flung　it　at　the　Other；　cursing；　as　Small　Paul　charged　in　with　his　axe。
　The　fear　that　filled　Sam　then　was　worse　than　any　fear　he　had　ever　felt　before；　and　Samwell　Tarly　knew　every　kind　of　fear。　〃Mother　have　mercy；〃　he　wept；　forgetting　the　old　gods　in　his　terror。　〃Father　protect　me；　oh　oh　。　。　。　〃　His　fingers　found　his　dagger　and　he　filled　his　hand　with　that。
　The　wights　had　been　slow　clumsy　things；　but　the　Other　was　light　as　snow　on　the　wind。　it　slid　away　from　Paul's　axe；　armor　rippling；　and　its　crystal　sword　twisted　and　spun　and　slipped　between　the　iron　rings　of　Paul's　mail；　through　leather　and　wool　and　bone　and　flesh。　It　came　out　his　back　with　a　hissssssssssss　and　Sam　heard　Paul　say；　〃Oh；〃　as　he　lost　the　axe。　Impaled；　his　blood　smoking　around　the　sword；　the　big　man　tried　to　reach　his　killer　with　his　hands　and　almost　had　before　he　fell。　The　weight　of　him　tore　the　strange　pale　sword　from　the　Other's　grip。
　Do　it　now　Stop　crying　and　fight；　you　baby。　Fight；　craven。　It　was　his　father　he　heard；　it　was　Alliser　Thorne；　it　was　his　brother　Dickon　and　the　boy　Rast。　Craven；　craven；　craven。　He　giggled　hysterically；　wondering　if　they　would　make　a　wight　of　him；　a　huge　fat　white　wight　always　tripping　over　its　own　dead　feet。　Do　it；　Sam。　Was　that　Jon；　now？　Jon　was　dead。　You　can　do　it；　you　can；　just　do　it。　And　then　he　was　stumbling　forward；　falling　more　than　running；　really；　closing　his　eyes　and　shoving　the　dagger　blindly　out　before　him　with　both　hands。　He　heard　a　crack；　like　the　sound　ice　makes　when　it　breaks　beneath　a　man's　foot；　and　then　a　screech　so　shrill　and　sharp　that　he　went　staggering　backward　with　his　hands　over　his　muffled　ears；　and　fell　hard　on　his　arse。
　When　he　opened　his　eyes　the　Other's　armor　was　running　down　its　legs　in　rivulets　as　pale　blue　blood　hissed　and　steamed　around　the　black　dragonglass　dagger　in　its　throat。　It　reached　down　with　two　bone…white　hands　to　pull　out　the　knife；　but　where　its　fingers　touched　the　obsidian　they　smoked。
　Sam　rolled　onto　his　side；　eyes　wide　as　the　Other　shrank　and　puddled；　dissolving　away。　In　twenty　heartbeats　its　flesh　was　gone；　swirling　away　in　a　fine　white　mist。　Beneath　were　bones　like　milkglass；　pale　and　shiny；　and　they　were　melting　too。　Finally　only　the　dragonglass　dagger　remained；　wreathed　in　steam　as　if　it　were　alive　and　sweating。　Grenn　bent　to　scoop　it　up　and　flung　it　down　again　at　once。　〃Mother；　that's　cold。〃
　〃Obsidian。〃　Sam　struggled　to　his　knees。　〃Dragonglass；　they　call　it。　Dragonglass。　Dragon　glass。〃　He　giggled；　and　cried；　and　doubled　over　to　heave　his　courage　out　onto　the　snow。
　Grenn　pulled　Sam　to　his　feet；　checked　Small　Paul　for　a　pulse　and　closed　his　eyes；　then　snatched　up　the　dagger　again。　This　time　he　was　able　to　hold　it。
　〃You　keep　it；〃　Sam　said。　〃You're　not　craven　like　me。〃
　〃So　craven　you　killed　an　Other。〃　Grenn　pointed　with　the　knife。　〃Look　there；　through　the　trees。　Pink　light。　Dawn；　Sam。　Dawn。　That　must　be　east。　If　we　head　that　way；　we　should　catch　Mormont。〃
　〃If　you　say。〃　Sam　kicked　his　left　foot　against　a　tree；　to　knock　off　all　the　snow。　Then　the　right。　〃I'll　try。〃　Grimacing；　he　took　a　step。　〃I'll　try　hard。〃　And　then　another。
　
　CHAPTER　19
　TYRION
　
　Lord　Tywin's　chain　of　hands　made　a　golden　glitter　against　the　deep　wine　velvet　of　his　tunic。　The　Lords　Tyrell；　Redwyne；　and　Rowan　gathered　round　him　as　he　entered。　He　greeted　each　in　turn；　spoke　a　quiet　word　to　Varys；　kissed　the　High　Septon's　ring　and　Cersei's　cheek；　clasped　the　hand　of　Grand　Maester　Pycelle；　and　seated　himself　in　the　king's　place　at　the　head　of　the　long　table；　between　his　daughter　and　his　brother。
　Tyrion　had　claimed　Pycelle's　old　place　at　the　foot；　propped　up　by　cushions　so　he　could　gaze　down　the　length　of　the　table。　Dispossessed；　Pycelle　had　moved　up　next　to　Cersei；　about　as　far　from　the　dwarf　as　he　could　get　without　claiming　the　king's　seat。　The　Grand　Maester　was　a　shambling　skeleton；　leaning　heavily　on　a　twisted　cane　and　shaking　as　he　walked；　a　few　white　hairs　sprouting　from　his　long　chicken's　neck　in　place　of　his　once…luxuriant　white　beard。　Tyrion　gazed　at　him　without　remorse。
　The　others　had　to　scramble　for　seats：　Lord　Mace　Tyrell；　a　heavy；　robust　man　with　curling　brown　hair　and　a　spadeshaped　beard　well　salted　with　white；　Paxter　Redwyne　of　the　Arbor；　stoop…shouldered　and　thin；　his　bald　head　fringed　by　tufts　of　orange　hair；　Mathis　Rowan；　Lord　of　Goldengrove；　clean…shaven；　stout；　and　sweating；　the　High　Septon；　a　frail　man　with　wispy　white　chin　hair。　Too　many　strange　faces；　Tyrion　thought；　too　many　new　players。　The　game　changed　while　I　lay　rotting　in　my　bed；　and　no　one　will　tell　me　the　rules。
　Oh；　the　lords　had　been　courteous　enough；　though　he　could　tell　how　unfortable　it　made　them　to　look　at　him。　〃That　chain　of　yours；　that　was　cunning；〃　Mace　Tyrell　had　said　in　a　jolly　tone；　and　Lord　Redwyne　nodded　and　said；　〃Quite　so；　quite　so；　my　lord　of　Highgarden　speaks　for　all　of　us；〃　and　very　cheerfully　too。
　Tell　it　to　the　people　of　this　city；　Tyrion　thought　bitterly。　Tell　it　to　the　bloody　singers；　with　their　songs　of　Renly's　ghost。
　His　uncle　Kevan　had　been　the　warmest；　going　so　far　as　to　kiss　his　cheek　and　say；　〃Lancel　has　told　me　how　brave　you　were；　Tyrion。　He　speaks　very　highly　of　you。〃
　He'd　better；　or　I'll　have　a　few　things　to　say　of　him。　He　made　himself　smile　and　say；　〃My　good　cousin　is　too　kind。　His　wound　is　healing；　I　trust？〃
　Ser　Kevan　frowned。　〃One　day　he　seems　stronger；　the　next　。　。　。　it　is　worrisome。　Your　sister　often　visits　his　sickbed；　to　lift　his　spirits　and　pray　for　him。〃
　But　is　she　praying　that　he　lives；　or　dies？　Cersei　had　made　shameless　use　of　their　cousin；　both　in　and　out　of　bed；　a　little　secret　she　no　doubt　hoped　Lancel　would　carry　to　his　grave　now　that　Father　was　here　and　she　no　longer　had　need　of　him。　Would　she　go　so　far　as　to　murder　him；　though？　To　look　at　her　today；　you　would　never　suspect　Cersei　was　capable　of　such　ruthlessness。　She　was　all　charm；　flirting　with　Lord　Tyrell　as　they　spoke　of　Joffrey's　wedding　feast；　plimenting　Lord　Redwyne　on　the　valor　of　his　twins；　softening　gruff　Lord　Rowan　with　jests　and　smiles；　making　pious　noises　at　the　High　Septon。　〃Shall　we　begin　with　the　wedding　arrangements？〃　she　asked　as　Lord　Tywin　took　his　seat。
　〃No；〃　their　father　said。　〃With　the　war。　Varys。〃
　The　eunuch　smiled　a　silken　smile。　〃I　have　such　delicious　tidings　for　you　all；　my　lords。　Yesterday　at　dawn　our　brave　Lord　Randyll　caught　Robett　Glover　outside　Duskendale　and　trapped　him　against　the　sea。　Losses　were　heavy　on　both　sides；　but　in　the　end　our　loyal　men　prevailed。　Ser　Helman　Tallhart　is　repo