grrm.thehedgeknight-第18节

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ird　of　the　white　knights　was　down；　and　the　Laughing　Storm　had　joined　Prince　Baelor　against　Prince　Maekar。　Mace；　battle…axe；　and　longsword　clashed　and　clanged；　ringing　against　helm　and　shield。　Maekar　was　taking　three　blows　for　every　one　he　landed；　and　Dunk　could　see　that　it　would　be　over　soon。　I　must　make　an　end　to　it　before　more　of　us　are　killed。
　Prince　Aerion　made　a　sudden　dive　for　his　morningstar。　Dunk　kicked　him　in　the　back　and　knocked　him　facedown；　then　grabbed　hold　of　one　of　his　legs　and　dragged　him　across　the　field。　By　the　time　he　reached　the　viewing　stand　where　Lord　Ashford　sat；　the　Bright　Prince　was　brown　as　a　privy。　Dunk　hauled　him　onto　his　feet　and　rattled　him；　shaking　some　of　the　mud　onto　Lord　Ashford　and　the　fair　maid。　〃Tell　him！〃
　Aerion　Brightfiaine　spit　out　a　mouthful　of　grass　and　dirt。　〃I　withdraw　my　accusation。〃
　
　Afterward　Dunk　could　not　have　said　whether　he　walked　from　the　field　under　his　own　power　or　had　required　help。　He　hurt　everywhere；　and　some　places　worse　than　others。　I　am　a　knight　now　in　truth？　he　remembered　wondering。　Am　I　a　champion？
　Egg　helped　him　remove　his　greaves　and　gorget；　and　Raymun　as　well；　and　even　Steely　Pate。　He　was　too　dazed　to　tell　them　apart。　They　were　fingers　and　thumbs　and　voices。　Pate　was　the　one　plaining；　Dunk　knew。　〃Look　what　he's　done　to　me　armor；〃　he　said。　〃All　dinted　and　banged　and　scratched。　Aye；　I　ask　you；　why　do　I　bother？　I'll　have　to　cut　that　mail　off　him；　I　fear。〃
　〃Raymun；〃　Dunk　said　urgently；　clutching　at　his　friend's　hands。　〃The　others。　How　did　they　fare？〃　He　had　to　know。　〃Has　anyone　died？〃
　〃Beesbury；〃　Raymun　said。　〃Slain　by　Donnel　of　Duskendale　in　the　first　charge。　Ser　Humfrey　is　gravely　wounded　as　well。　The　rest　of　us　are　bruised　and　bloody；　no　more。　Save　for　you。〃
　〃And　them？　The　accusers？〃
　〃Ser　Willem　Wylde　of　the　Kingsguard　was　carried　from　the　field　insensate；　and　I　think　I　cracked　a　few　of　my　cousin's　ribs。　At　least　I　hope　so。〃
　〃And　Prince　Daeron？〃　Dunk　blurted。　〃Did　he　survive？〃
　〃Once　Ser　Robyn　unhorsed　him；　he　lay　where　he　fell。　He　may　have　a　broken　foot。　His　own　horse　trod　on　him　while　running　loose　about　the　field。〃
　Dazed　and　confused　as　he　was；　Dunk　felt　a　huge　sense　of　relief。　〃His　dream　was　wrong；　then。　The　dead　dragon。　Unless　Aerion　died。　He　didn't　though；　did　he？〃
　〃No；〃　said　Egg。　〃You　spared　him。　Don't　you　remember？〃
　〃I　suppose。〃　Already　his　memories　of　the　fight　were　being　confused　and　vague。　〃One　moment　I　feel　drunk。　The　next　it　hurts　so　bad　I　know　I'm　dying。〃
　They　made　him　lie　down　on　his　back　and　talked　over　him　as　he　gazed　up　into　the　roiling　grey　sky。　It　seemed　to　Dunk　that　it　was　still　morning。　He　wondered　how　long　the　fight　had　taken。
　〃Gods　be　good；　the　lance　point　drove　the　rings　deep　into　his　flesh；〃　he　heard　Raymun　saying。　〃It　will　mortify　unless　。　。　。〃
　〃Get　him　drunk　and　pour　some　boiling　oil　into　it；〃　someone　suggested。　〃That's　how　the　maesters　do　it。〃
　〃Wine。〃　The　voice　had　a　hollow　metallic　ring　to　it。　〃Not　oil；　that　will　kill　him；　boiling　wine。　I'll　send　Maester　Yormwell　to　have　a　look　at　him　when　he's　done　tending　my　brother。〃
　A　tall　knight　stood　above　him；　in　black　armor　dinted　and　scarred　by　many　blows。　Prince　Baelor。　The　scarlet　dragon　on　his　helm　had　lost　a　head；　both　wings；　and　most　of　its　tail。　〃Your　Grace；〃　Dunk　said；　〃I　am　your　man。　Please。　Your　man。〃
　〃My　man。〃　The　black　knight　put　a　hand　on　Raymun's　shoulder　to　steady　himself。　〃I　need　good　men；　Ser　Duncan。　The　realm。。。〃　His　voice　sounded　oddly　slurred。　Perhaps　he'd　bit　his　tongue。
　Dunk　was　very　tired。　It　was　hard　to　stay　awake。　〃Your　man；〃　he　murmured　once　more。
　The　prince　moved　his　head　slowly　from　side　to　side。　〃Ser　Raymun。。。　my　helm；　if　you'd　be　so　kind。　Visor。。。　visor's　cracked；　and　my　fingers。。。　fingers　feel　like　wood。〃
　〃At　once；　Your　Grace。〃　Raymun　took　the　prince's　helm　in　both　hands　and　grunted。　〃Goodman　Pate；　a　hand。〃
　Steely　Pate　dragged　over　a　mounting　stool。　〃It's　crushed　down　at　the　back；　Your　Grace；　toward　the　left　side。　Smashed　into　the　gorget。　Good　steel；　this；　to　stop　such　a　blow。〃
　〃Brother's　mace；　most　like；〃　Baelor　said　thickly。　〃He's　strong。〃　He　winced。　〃That。。。　feels　queer；　I。。。〃
　〃Here　it　es。〃　Pate　lifted　the　battered　helm　away。　〃Gods　be　good。　Oh　gods　oh　gods　oh　gods　preserve。。。〃
　Dunk　saw　something　red　and　wet　fall　out　of　the　helm。　Someone　was　screaming；　high　and　terrible。　Against　the　bleak　grey　sky　swayed　a　tall　prince　in　black　armor　with　only　half　a　skull。　He　could　see　red　blood　and　pale　bone　beneath　and　something　else；　something　blue…grey　and　pulpy。　A　queer　troubled　look　passed　across　Baelor　Breakspear's　face；　like　a　cloud　passing　before　a　sun。　He　raised　his　hand　and　touched　the　back　of　his　head　with　two　fingers；　oh　so　lightly。　And　then　he　fell。
　Dunk　caught　him。　〃Up；〃　they　say　he　said；　just　as　he　had　with　Thunder　in　the　melee；　〃up；　up。〃　But　he　never　remembered　that　afterward；　and　the　prince　did　not　rise。
　
　Baelor　of　House　Targaryen；　Prince　of　Dragonstone；　Hand　of　the　King；　Protector　of　the　Realm；　and　heir　apparent　to　the　Iron　Throne　of　the　Seven　Kingdoms　of　Westeros；　went　to　the　fire　in　the　yard　of　Ashford　Castle　on　the　north　bank　of　River　Cockleswent。　Other　great　houses　might　choose　to　bury　their　dead　in　the　dark　earth　or　sink　them　in　the　cold　green　sea；　but　the　Targaryens　were　the　blood　of　the　dragon；　and　their　ends　were　writ　in　flame。
　He　had　been　the　finest　knight　of　his　age；　and　some　argued　that　he　should　have　gone　to　face　the　dark　clad　in　mail　and　plate；　a　sword　in　his　hand。　In　the　end；　though；　his　royal　father's　wishes　prevailed；　and　Daeron　II　had　a　peaceable　nature。　When　Dunk　shuffled　past　Baelor's　bier；　the　prince　wore　a　black　velvet　tunic　with　the　three…headed　dragon　picked　out　in　scarlet　thread　upon　his　breast。　Around　his　throat　was　a　heavy　gold　chain。　His　sword　was　sheathed　by　his　side；　but　he　did　wear　a　helm；　a　thin　golden　helm　with　an　open　visor　so　men　could　see　his　face。
　Valarr；　the　Young　Prince；　stood　vigil　at　the　foot　of　the　bier　while　his　father　lay　in　state。　He　was　a　shorter；　slimmer；　handsomer　version　of　his　sire；　without　the　twice…broken　nose　that　had　made　Baelor　seem　more　human　than　royal。　Valarr's　hair　was　brown；　but　a　bright　streak　of　silver…gold　ran　through　it。　The　sight　of　it　reminded　Dunk　of　Aerion；　but　he　knew　that　was　not　fair。　Egg's　hair　was　growing　back　as　bright　as　his　brother's；　and　Egg　was　a　decent　enough　lad；　for　a　prince。
　When　he　stopped　to　offer　awkward　sympathies；　well　larded　with　thanks；　Prince　Valarr　blinked　cool　blue　eyes　at　him　and　said；　〃My　father　was　only　nine…and…thirty。　He　had　it　in　him　to　be　a　great　king；　the　greatest　since　Aegon　the　Dragon。　Why　would　the　gods　take　him；　and　leave　you？〃　He　shook　his　head。　〃Begone　with　you；　Ser　Duncan。　Begone。〃
　Wordless；　Dunk　limped　from　the　castle；　down　to　the　camp　by　the　green　pool。　He　had　no　answer　for　Valarr。　Nor　for　the　questions　he　asked　himself。　The　maesters　and　the　boiling　wine　had　done　their　work；　and　his　wound　was　healing　cleanly；　though　there　would　be　a　deep　puckered　scar　between　his　left　arm　and　his　nipple。　He　could　not　see　the　wound　without　thinking　of　Baelor。　He　saved　me　once　with　his　sword；　and　once　with　a　word；　even　though　he　was　a　dead　man　as　he　stood　there。　The　world　made　no　sense　when　a　great　prince　died　so　a　hedge　knight　might　live。　Dunk　sat　beneath　his　elm　and　stared　morosely　at　his　foot。
　
　When　four　guardsmen　in　the　royal　livery　appeared　in　his　camp　late　one　day；　he　was　sure　they　had　e　to　kill　him　after　all。　Too　weak　and　weary　to　reach　for　a　sword；　he　sat　with　his　back　to　the　elm；　waiting。
　〃Our　prince　begs　the　favor　of　a　private　word。〃
　〃Which　prince？〃　asked　Dunk；　wary。
　〃This　prince；〃　a　brusque　voice　said　before　the　captain　could　answer。　Maekar　Targaryen　walked　out　from　behind　the　elm。
　Dunk　got　slowly　to　his　feet。　What　would　he　have　of　me　now？
　Maekar　motioned；　and　the　guards　vanished　as　suddenly　as　they　had　appeared。　The　prince　studied　him　a　long　moment；　then　turned　and　paced　away　from　him　to　stand　beside　the　pool；　gazing　down　at　his　reflection　in　the　water。　〃I　have　sent　Aerion　to　Lys；〃　he　announced　abruptly。　〃A　few　years　in　the　Free　Cities　may　change　him　for　the　better。〃
　Dunk　had　never　been　to　the　Free　Cities；　so　he　did　not　know　what　to　say　to　that。　He　was　pleased　that　Aerion　was　gone　from　the　Seven　Kingdoms；　and　hoped　he　never　came　back；　but　that　was　not　a　thing　you　told　a　father　of　his　son。　He　stood　silent。
　Prince　Maekar　turned　to　face　him。　〃Some　men　will　say　I　meant　to　kill　my　brother。　The　gods　know　it　is　a　lie；　but　I　will　hear　the　whispers　till　the　day　I　die。　And　it　was　my　mace　that　dealt　the　fatal　blow；　I　have　no　doubt。　The　only　other　foes　he　faced　in　the　melee　were　three　Kingsguard；　whose　vows　forbade　them　to　do　any　more　than　defend　themselves。　So　it　was　me。　Strange　to　say；　I　do　not　recall　the　blow　that　broke　his　skull。　Is　that　a　mercy　or　a　curse？　Some　of　both；　I　think。〃
　From　the　way　he　looked　at　Dunk；　it　seemed　the　prince　wanted　an　answer。　〃I　could　not　say；　Your　Grace。〃　Perhaps　he　should　have　hated　Maekar；　but　instead　he　felt　a　queer　sympathy　for　the　man。　〃You　swung　the　mace；　m'lord；　but　it　was　for　me　Prince　Baelor　died。　So　I　killed　him　too；　as　much　as　you。〃
　〃Yes；〃　the　prince　admitted。　〃You'll　hear　them　whisper　as　well。　The　king　is　old。