grrm.thehedgeknight-第1节

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of　Thrones〃
　
　
　
　The　spring　rains　had　softened　the　ground；　so　Dunk　had　no　trouble　digging　the　grave。　He　chose　a　spot　on　the　western　slope　of　a　low　hill；　for　the　old　man　had　always　loved　to　watch　the　sunset。　〃Another　day　done；〃　he　would　sigh；　〃and　who　knows　what　the　morrow　will　bring　us；　eh；　Dunk？〃
　Well；　one　morrow　had　brought　rains　that　soaked　them　to　the　bones；　and　the　one　after　had　brought　wet　gusty　winds；　and　the　next　a　chill。　By　the　fourth　day　the　old　man　was　too　weak　to　ride。　And　now　he　was　gone。　Only　a　few　days　past；　he　had　been　singing　as　they　rode；　the　old　song　about　going　to　Gulltown　to　see　a　fair　maid；　but　instead　of　Gulltown　he'd　sung　of　Ashford。　Off　to　Ashford　to　see　the　fair　maid；　heigh…ho；　heigh…ho；　Dunk　thought　miserably　as　he　dug。
　When　the　hole　was　deep　enough；　he　lifted　the　old　man's　body　in　his　arms　and　carried　him　there。　He　had　been　a　small　man；　and　slim；　stripped　of　hauberk；　helm；　and　sword　belt；　he　seemed　to　weigh　no　more　than　a　bag　of　leaves。　Dunk　was　hugely　tall　for　his　age；　a　shambling；　shaggy；　big…boned　boy　of　sixteen　or　seventeen　years　（no　one　was　quite　certain　which）　who　stood　closer　to　seven　feet　than　to　six；　and　had　only　just　begun　to　fill　out　his　frame。　The　old　man　had　often　praised　his　strength。　He　had　always　been　generous　in　his　praise。　It　was　all　he　had　to　give。
　He　laid　him　out　in　the　bottom　of　the　grave　and　stood　over　him　for　a　time。　The　smell　of　rain　was　in　the　air　again；　and　he　knew　he　ought　to　fill　the　hole　before　the　rain　broke；　but　it　was　hard　to　throw　dirt　down　on　that　tired　old　face。　There　ought　to　be　a　septon　here；　to　say　some　prayers　over　him；　but　he　only　has　me。　The　old　man　had　taught　Dunk　all　he　knew　of　swords　and　shields　and　lances；　but　had　never　been　much　good　at　teaching　him　words。
　〃I'd　leave　your　sword；　but　it　would　rust　in　the　ground；〃　he　said　at　last；　apologetic。　〃The　gods　will　give　you　a　new　one；　I　guess。　I　wish　you　didn't　die；　ser。〃　He　paused；　uncertain　what　else　needed　to　be　said。　He　didn't　know　any　prayers；　not　all　the　way　through；　the　old　man　had　never　been　much　for　praying。　〃You　were　a　true　knight；　and　you　never　beat　me　when　I　didn't　deserve　it；〃　he　finally　managed；　〃except　that　one　time　in　Maidenpool。　It　was　the　inn　boy　who　ate　the　widow　woman's　pie；　not　me；　I　told　you。　It　don't　matter　now。　The　gods　keep　you；　ser。〃　He　kicked　dirt　in　the　hole；　then　began　to　fill　it　methodically；　never　looking　at　the　thing　at　the　bottom。　He　had　a　long　life；　Dunk　thought。　He　must　have　been　closer　to　sixty　than　to　fifty；　and　how　many　men　can　say　that？　At　least　he　had　lived　to　see　another　spring。
　The　sun　was　westering　as　he　fed　the　horses。　There　were　three；　his　swaybacked　stot；　the　old　man's　palfrey；　and　Thunder；　his　warhorse；　who　was　ridden　only　in　tourney　and　battle。　The　big　brown　stallion　was　not　as　swift　or　strong　as　he　had　once　been；　but　he　still　had　his　bright　eye　and　fierce　spirit；　and　he　was　more　valuable　than　everything　else　Dunk　owned。　If　I　sold　Thunder　and　old　Chestnut；　and　the　saddles　and　bridles　too；　I'd　e　away　with　enough　silver　to。。。　Dunk　frowned。　The　only　life　he　knew　was　the　life　of　a　hedge　knight；　riding　from　keep　to　keep；　taking　service　with　this　lord　and　that　lord；　fighting　in　their　battles　and　eating　in　their　halls　until　the　war　was　done；　then　moving　on。　There　were　tourneys　from　time　to　time　as　well；　though　less　often；　and　he　knew　that　some　hedge　knights　turned　robber　during　lean　winters；　though　the　old　man　never　had。
　I　could　find　another　hedge　knight　in　need　of　a　squire　to　tend　his　animals　and　clean　his　mail；　he　thought；　or　might　be　I　could　go　to　some　city；　to　Jannisport　or　King's　Landing；　and　join　the　City　Watch。　Or　else。。。
　He　had　piled　the　old　man's　things　under　an　oak。　The　cloth　purse　contained　three　silver　stags；　nineteen　copper　pennies；　and　a　chipped　garnet；　as　with　most　hedge　knights；　the　greatest　part　of　his　worldly　wealth　had　been　tied　up　in　his　horses　and　weapons。　Dunk　now　owned　a　chain…mail　hauberk　that　he　had　scoured　the　rust　off　a　thousand　times。　An　iron　halfhelm　with　a　broad　nasal　and　a　dent　on　the　left　temple。　A　sword　belt　of　cracked　brown　leather；　and　a　longsword　in　a　wood…and…leather　scabbard。　A　dagger；　a　razor；　a　whetstone。　Greaves　and　gorget；　an　eight…foot　war　lance　of　turned　ash　topped　by　a　cruel　iron　point；　and　an　oaken　shield　with　a　scarred　metal　rim；　bearing　the　sigil　of　Ser　Arlan　of　Pennytree：　a　winged　chalice；　silver　on　brown。
　Dunk　looked　at　the　shield；　scooped　up　the　sword　belt；　and　looked　at　the　shield　again。　The　belt　was　made　for　the　old　man's　skinny　hips。　It　would　never　do　for　him；　no　more　than　the　hauberk　would。　He　tied　the　scabbard　to　a　length　of　hempen　rope；　knotted　it　around　his　waist；　and　drew　the　longsword。
　The　blade　was　straight　and　heavy；　good　castle…forged　steel；　the　grip　soft　leather　wrapped　over　wood；　the　pommel　a　smooth　polished　black　stone。　Plain　as　it　was；　the　sword　felt　good　in　his　hand；　and　Dunk　knew　how　sharp　it　was；　having　worked　it　with　whetstone　and　oilcloth　many　a　night　before　they　went　to　sleep。　It　fits　my　grip　as　well　as　it　ever　fit　his；　he　thought　to　himself；　and　there　is　a　tourney　at　Ashford　Meadow。
　
　Sweetfoot　had　an　easier　gait　than　old　Chestnut；　but　Dunk　was　still　sore　and　tired　when　he　spied　the　inn　ahead；　a　tall　daub…and…timber　building　beside　a　stream。　The　warm　yellow　light　spilling　from　its　windows　looked　so　inviting　that　he　could　not　pass　it　by。　I　have　three　silvers；　he　told　himself；　enough　for　a　good　meal　and　as　much　ale　as　I　care　to　drink。　As　he　dismounted；　a　naked　boy　emerged　dripping　from　the　stream　and　began　to　dry　himself　on　a　roughspun　brown　cloak。　〃Are　you　the　stableboy？〃　Dunk　asked　him。　The　lad　looked　to　be　no　more　than　eight　or　nine；　a　pasty…faced　skinny　thing；　his　bare　feet　caked　in　mud　up　to　the　ankle。　His　hair　was　the　queerest　thing　about　him。　He　had　none。
　〃I'll　want　my　palfrey　rubbed　down。　And　oats　for　all　three。　Can　you　tend　to　them？〃
　The　boy　looked　at　him　brazenly。　〃I　could。　If　I　wanted。〃
　Dunk　frowned。　〃I'll　have　none　of　that。　I　am　a　knight；　I'll　have　you　know。〃
　〃You　don't　look　to　be　a　knight。〃
　〃Do　all　knights　look　the　same？〃
　〃No；　but　they　don't　look　like　you；　either。　Your　sword　belt's　made　of　rope。〃
　〃So　long　as　it　holds　my　scabbard；　it　serves。　Now　see　to　my　horses。　You'll　get　a　copper　if　you　do　well；　and　a　clout　in　the　ear　if　you　don't。〃　He　did　not　wait　to　see　how　the　stableboy　took　that；　but　turned　away　and　shouldered　through　the　door。
　At　this　hour；　he　would　have　expected　the　inn　to　be　crowded；　but　the　mon　room　was　almost　empty。　A　young　lordling　in　a　fine　damask　mantle　was　passed　out　at　one　table；　snoring　softly　into　a　pool　of　spilled　wine。　Otherwise　there　was　no　one。　Dunk　looked　around　uncertainly　until　a　stout；　short；　whey…faced　woman　emerged　from　the　kitchens　and　said；　〃Sit　where　you　like。　Is　it　ale　you　want；　or　food？〃
　〃Both。〃　Dunk　took　a　chair　by　the　window；　well　away　from　the　sleeping　man。
　〃There's　good　lamb；　roasted　with　a　crust　of　herbs；　and　some　ducks　my　son　shot　down。　Which　will　you　have？〃
　He　had　not　eaten　at　an　inn　in　half　a　year　or　more。　〃Both。〃
　The　woman　laughed。　〃Well；　you're　big　enough　for　it。〃　She　drew　a　tankard　of　ale　and　brought　it　to　his　table。　〃Will　you　be　wanting　a　room　for　the　night　as　well？〃
　〃No。〃　Dunk　would　have　liked　nothing　better　than　a　soft　straw　mattress　and　a　roof　above　his　head；　but　he　needed　to　be　careful　with　his　coin。　The　ground　would　serve。　〃Some　food；　some　ale；　and　it's　on　to　Ashford　for　me。　How　much　farther　is　it？〃
　〃A　day's　ride。　Bear　north　when　the　road　forks　at　the　burned　mill。　Is　my　boy　seeing　to　your　horses；　or　has　he　run　off　again？〃
　〃No；　he's　there；〃　said　Dunk。　〃You　seem　to　have　no　custom。〃
　〃Half　the　town's　gone　to　see　the　tourney。　My　own　would　as　well；　if　I　allowed　it。　They'll　have　this　inn　when　I　go；　but　the　boy　would　sooner　swagger　about　with　soldiers；　and　the　girl　turns　to　sighs　and　giggles　every　time　a　knight　rides　by。　I　swear　I　couldn't　tell　you　why。　Knights　are　built　the　same　as　other　men；　and　I　never　knew　a　joust　to　change　the　price　of　eggs。〃　She　eyed　Dunk　curiously；　his　sword　and　shield　told　her　one　thing；　his　rope　belt　and　roughspun　tunic　quite　another。　〃You're　bound　for　the　tourney　yourself？〃
　He　took　a　sip　of　the　ale　before　he　answered。　A　nut　brown　color　it　was；　and　thick　on　the　tongue；　the　way　he　liked　it。　〃Aye；〃　he　said。　〃I　mean　to　be　a　champion。〃
　〃Do　you；　now？〃　the　innkeep　answered；　polite　enough。
　Across　the　room；　the　lordling　raised　his　head　from　the　wine　puddle。　His　face　had　a　sallow；　unhealthy　cast　to　it　beneath　a　rat's　nest　of　sandy　brown　hair；　and　blond　stubble　crusted　his　chin。　He　rubbed　his　mouth；　blinked　at　Dunk；　and　said；　〃I　dreamed　of　you。〃　His　hand　trembled　as　he　pointed　a　finger。　〃You　stay　away　from　me；　do　you　hear？　You　stay　well　away。〃
　Dunk　stared　at　him　uncertainly。　〃My　lord？〃
　The　innkeep　leaned　close。　〃Never　you　mind　that　one；　ser。　All　he　does　is　drink　and　talk　about　his　dreams。　I'll　see　about　that　food。〃　She　bustled　off。
　〃Food？〃　The　lordling　made　the　word　an　obscenity。　He　staggered　to　his　feet；　one　hand　on　the　table　to　keep　himself　from　falling。　〃I'm　going　to　be　sick；〃　he　announced。　The　front　of　his　tunic　was　crusty　red　with　old　wine　stains。　〃I　wanted　a　whore；　but　there's　none　to　be　found　here。　All　gone　to　Ashford　Meadow。　Gods　b