grrm.thehedgeknight-第3节

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k　out　the　master　of　the　games　and　enroll　his　name；　but　he　had　other　matters　he　ought　to　look　into　tonight　if　he　hoped　to　challenge。
　He　did　not　need　to　study　his　reflection　in　the　water　to　know　that　he　did　not　look　much　a　knight；　so　he　slung　Ser　Arlan's　shield　across　his　back　to　display　the　sigil。　Hobbling　the　horses；　Dunk　left　them　to　crop　the　thick　green　grass　beneath　the　elm　as　he　set　out　on　foot　for　the　tourney　grounds。
　
　In　normal　times　the　meadow　served　as　a　mons　for　the　folk　of　Ashford　town　across　the　river；　but　now　it　was　transformed。　A　second　town　had　sprung　up　overnight；　a　town　of　silk　instead　of　stone；　larger　and　fairer　than　its　elder　sister。　Dozens　of　merchants　had　erected　their　stalls　along　the　edge　of　the　field；　selling　felts　and　fruits；　belts　and　boots；　hides　and　hawks；　earthenware；　gemstones；　pewterwork；　spices；　feathers；　and　all　manner　of　other　goods。　Jugglers；　puppeteers；　and　magicians　wandered　among　the　crowds　plying　their　trades。。。　as　did　the　whores　and　cutpurses。　Dunk　kept　a　wary　hand　on　his　coin。
　When　he　caught　the　smell　of　sausages　sizzling　over　a　smoky　fire；　his　mouth　began　to　water。　He　bought　one　with　a　copper　from　his　pouch；　and　a　horn　of　ale　to　wash　it　down。　As　he　ate　he　watched　a　painted　wooden　knight　battle　a　painted　wooden　dragon。　The　puppeteer　who　worked　the　dragon　was　good　to　watch　too；　a　tall　drink　of　water；　with　the　olive　skin　and　black　hair　of　Dorne。　She　was　slim　as　a　lance　with　no　breasts　to　speak　of；　but　Dunk　liked　her　face　and　the　way　her　fingers　made　the　dragon　snap　and　slither　at　the　end　of　its　strings。　He　would　have　tossed　the　girl　a　copper　if　he'd　had　one　to　spare；　but　just　now　he　needed　every　coin。
　There　were　armorers　among　the　merchants；　as　he　had　hoped。　A　Tyroshi　with　a　forked　blue　beard　was　selling　ornate　helms；　gorgeous　fantastical　things　wrought　in　the　shapes　of　birds　and　beasts　and　chased　with　gold　and　silver。　Elsewhere　he　found　a　swordmaker　hawking　cheap　steel　blades；　and　another　whose　work　was　much　finer；　but　it　was　not　a　sword　he　lacked。
　The　man　he　needed　was　all　the　way　down　at　the　end　of　the　row；　a　shirt　of　fine　chain　mail　and　a　pair　of　lobstered　steel　gauntlets　displayed　on　the　table　before　him。　Dunk　inspected　them　closely。　〃You　do　good　work；〃　he　said。
　〃None　better。〃　A　stumpy　man；　the　smith　was　no　more　than　five　feet　tall；　yet　wide　as　Dunk　about　the　chest　and　arms。　He　had　a　black　beard；　huge　hands；　and　no　trace　of　humility。
　〃I　need　armor　for　the　tourney；〃　Dunk　told　him。　〃A　suit　of　good　mail；　with　gorget；　greaves；　and　greathelm。〃　The　old　man's　halfhelm　would　fit　his　head；　but　he　wanted　more　protection　for　his　face　than　a　nasal　bar　alone　could　provide。
　The　armorer　looked　him　up　and　down。　〃You're　a　big　one；　but　I've　armored　bigger。〃　He　came　out　from　behind　the　table。　〃Kneel；　I　want　to　measure　those　shoulders。　Aye；　and　that　thick　neck　o'　yours。〃　Dunk　knelt。　The　armorer　laid　a　length　of　knotted　rawhide　along　his　shoulders；　grunted；　slipped　it　about　his　throat；　grunted　again。　〃Lift　your　arm。　No；　the　right。〃　He　grunted　a　third　time。　〃Now　you　can　stand。〃　The　inside　of　a　leg；　the　thickness　of　his　calf；　and　the　size　of　his　waist　elicited　further　grunts。　〃I　have　some　pieces　in　me　wagon　that　might　do　for　you；〃　the　man　said　when　he　was　done。　〃Nothing　prettied　up　with　gold　nor　silver；　mind　you；　just　good　steel；　strong　and　plain。　I　make　helms　that　look　like　helms；　not　winged　pigs　and　queer　foreign　fruits；　but　mine　will　serve　you　better　if　you　take　a　lance　in　the　face。〃
　〃That's　all　I　want；〃　said　Dunk。　〃How　much？〃
　〃Eight　hundred　stags；　for　I'm　feeling　kindly。〃
　〃Eight　hundred？〃　It　was　more　than　he　had　expected。　〃I。。。　I　could　trade　you　some　old　armor；　made　for　a　smaller　man。　。　。　a　halfhelm；　a　mail　hauberk。。。〃
　〃Steely　Pate　sells　only　his　own　work；〃　the　man　declared；　〃but　it　might　be　I　could　make　use　of　the　metal。　If　it's　not　too　rusted；　I'll　take　it　and　armor　you　for　six　hundred。〃
　Dunk　could　beseech　Pate　to　give　him　the　armor　on　trust；　but　he　knew　what　sort　of　answer　that　request　would　likely　get。　He　had　traveled　with　the　old　man　long　enough　to　learn　that　merchants　were　notoriously　mistrustful　of　hedge　knights；　some　of　whom　were　little　better　than　robbers。　〃I'll　give　you　two　silvers　now；　and　the　armor　and　the　rest　of　the　coin　on　the　morrow。〃
　The　armorer　studied　him　a　moment。　〃Two　silvers　buys　you　a　day。　After　that；　I　sell　me　work　to　the　next　man。〃
　Dunk　scooped　the　stags　out　of　his　pouch　and　placed　them　in　the　armorer's　callused　hand。　〃You'll　get　it　all。　I　mean　to　be　a　champion　here。〃
　〃Do　you？〃　Pate　bit　one　of　the　coins。　〃And　these　others；　I　suppose　they　all　came　just　to　cheer　you　on？〃
　
　The　moon　was　well　up　by　the　time　he　turned　his　steps　back　toward　his　elm。　Behind　him；　Ashford　Meadow　was　ablaze　with　torchlight。　The　sounds　of　song　and　laughter　drifted　across　the　grass；　but　his　own　mood　was　somber。　He　could　think　of　only　one　way　to　raise　the　coin　for　his　armor。　And　if　he　should　be　defeated。。。　〃One　victory　is　all　I　need；〃　he　muttered　aloud。　〃That's　not　so　much　to　hope　for。〃
　Even　so；　the　old　man　would　never　have　hoped　for　it。　Ser　Arlan　had　not　ridden　a　tilt　since　the　day　he　had　been　unhorsed　by　the　Prince　of　Dragonstone　in　a　tourney　at　Storm's　End；　many　years　before。　〃It　is　not　every　man　who　can　boast　that　he　broke　seven　lances　against　the　finest　knight　in　the　Seven　Kingdoms；〃　he　would　say。　〃I　could　never　hope　to　do　better；　so　why　should　I　try？〃
　Dunk　had　suspected　that　Ser　Arlan's　age　had　more　to　do　with　it　than　the　Prince　of　Dragonstone　did；　but　he　never　dared　say　as　much。　The　old　man　had　his　pride；　even　at　the　last。　I　am　quick　and　strong；　he　always　said　so；　what　was　true　for　him　need　not　be　true　for　me；　he　told　himself　stubbornly。
　He　was　moving　through　a　patch　of　weed；　chewing　over　his　chances　in　his　head；　when　he　saw　the　flicker　of　firelight　through　the　bushes。　What　is　this？　Dunk　did　not　stop　to　think。　Suddenly　his　sword　was　in　his　hand　and　he　was　crashing　through　the　grass。
　He　burst　out　roaring　and　cursing；　only　to　jerk　to　a　sudden　halt　at　the　sight　of　the　boy　beside　the　campfire。　〃You！〃　He　lowered　the　sword。　〃What　are　you　doing　here？〃
　〃Cooking　a　fish；〃　said　the　bald　boy。　〃Do　you　want　some？〃
　〃I　meant；　how　did　you　get　here？　Did　you　steal　a　horse？〃
　〃I　rode　in　the　back　of　a　cart；　with　a　man　who　was　bringing　some　lambs　to　the　castle　for　my　lord　of　Ashford's　table。〃
　〃Well；　you'd　best　see　if　he's　gone　yet；　or　find　another　cart。　I　won't　have　you　here。〃
　〃You　can't　make　me　go；〃　the　boy　said；　impertinent。　〃I'd　had　enough　of　that　inn。〃
　〃I'll　have　no　more　insolence　from　you；〃　Dunk　warned。　〃I　should　throw　you　over　my　horse　right　now　and　take　you　home。〃
　〃You'd　need　to　ride　all　the　way　to　King's　Landing；〃　said　the　boy。　〃You'd　miss　the　tourney。〃
　King's　Landing。　For　a　moment　Dunk　wondered　if　he　was　being　mocked；　but　the　boy　had　no　way。　of　knowing　that　he　had　been　born　in　King's　Landing　as　well。　Another　wretch　from　Flea　Bottom；　like　as　not；　and　who　can　blame　him　for　wanting　out　of　that　place？
　He　felt　foolish　standing　there　with　sword　in　hand　over　an　eight…year…old　orphan。　He　sheathed　it；　glowering　so　the　boy　would　see　that　he　would　suffer　no　nonsense。　I　ought　to　give　him　a　good　beating　at　the　least；　he　thought；　but　the　child　looked　so　pitiful　he　could　not　bring　himself　to　hit　him。　He　glanced　around　the　camp。　The　fire　was　burning　merrily　within　a　neat　circle　of　rocks。　The　horses　had　been　brushed；　and　clothes　were　hanging　from　the　elm；　drying　above　the　flames。　〃What　are　those　doing　there？〃
　〃I　washed　them；〃　the　boy　said。　〃And　I　groomed　the　horses；　made　the　fire；　and　caught　this　fish。　I　would　have　raised　your　pavilion；　but　I　couldn't　find　one。〃
　〃There's　my　pavilion。〃　Dunk　swept　a　hand　above　his　head；　at　the　branches　of　the　tall　elm　that　loomed　above　them。
　〃That's　a　tree；〃　the　boy　said；　unimpressed。
　〃It's　all　the　pavilion　a　true　knight　needs。　I　would　sooner　sleep　under　the　stars　than　in　some　smoky　tent。〃
　〃What　if　it　rains？〃
　〃The　tree　will　shelter　me。〃
　〃Trees　leak。〃
　Dunk　laughed。　〃So　they　do。　Well；　if　truth　be　told；　I　lack　the　coin　for　a　pavilion。　And　you'd　best　turn　that　fish；　or　it　will　be　burned　on　the　bottom　and　raw　on　the　top。　You'd　never　make　a　kitchen　boy。〃
　〃I　would　if　I　wanted；〃　the　boy　said；　but　he　turned　the　fish。
　〃What　happened　to　your　hair？〃　Dunk　asked　of　him。
　〃The　maesters　shaved　it　off。〃　Suddenly　selfconscious；　the　boy　pulled　up　the　hood　of　his　dark　brown　cloak；　covering　his　head。
　Dunk　had　heard　that　they　did　that　sometimes；　to　treat　lice　or　rootworms　or　certain　sicknesses。　〃Are　you　ill？〃
　〃No；〃　said　the　boy。　〃What's　your　name？〃
　〃Dunk；〃　he　said。
　The　wretched　boy　laughed　aloud；　as　if　that　was　the　funniest　thing　he'd　ever　heard。　〃Dunk？〃　he　said。　〃Ser　Dunk？　That's　no　name　for　a　knight。　Is　it　short　for　Duncan？〃
　Was　it？　The　old　man　had　called　him　just　Dunk　for　as　long　as　he　could　recall；　and　he　did　not　remember　much　of　his　life　before。　〃Duncan；　yes；〃　he　said。　〃Ser　Duncan　of　。　。　。〃　Dunk　had　no　other　name；　nor　any　house；　Ser　Arlan　had　found　him　living　wild　in　the　stews　and　alleys　of　Flea　Bottom。　He　had　never　known　his　father　or　mother。　What　was　he　to　say？　〃Ser　Duncan　of　Flea　Bottom〃　did　not　sound　very　knightly。　He　could　take　Pennytree；　but　what　if　they　asked　him　where　it　was？　Dunk