grrm.thehedgeknight-第6节

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ce　more。　The　winesellers　and　sausage　makers　were　doing　a　brisk　trade；　a　dancing　bear　was　shuffling　along　to　his　master's　playing　as　a　singer　sang　〃The　Bear；　the　Bear；　and　the　Maiden　Fair；〃　jugglers　were　juggling；　and　the　puppeteers　were　just　finishing　another　fight。
　Dunk　stopped　to　watch　the　wooden　dragon　slain。　When　the　puppet　knight　cut　its　head　off　and　the　red　sawdust　spilled　out　onto　the　grass；　he　laughed　aloud　and　threw　the　girl　two　coppers。　〃One　for　last　night；〃　he　called。　She　caught　the　coins　in　the　air　and　threw　him　back　a　smile　as　sweet　as　any　he　had　ever　seen。
　Is　it　me　she　smiles　at；　or　the　coins？　Dunk　had　never　been　with　a　girl；　and　they　made　him　nervous。　Once；　three　years　past；　when　the　old　man's　purse　was　full　after　half　a　year　in　the　service　of　blind　Lord　Florent；　he'd　told　Dunk　the　time　had　e　to　take　him　to　a　brothel　and　make　him　a　man。　He'd　been　drunk；　though；　and　when　he　was　sober　he　did　not　remember。　Dunk　had　been　too　embarrassed　to　remind　him。　He　was　not　certain　he　wanted　a　whore　anyway。　If　he　could　not　have　a　highborn　maiden　like　a　proper　knight；　he　wanted　one　who　at　least　liked　him　more　than　his　silver。
　〃Will　you　drink　a　horn　of　ale？〃　he　asked　the　puppet　girl　as　she　was　scooping　the　sawdust　blood　back　into　her　dragon。　〃With　me；　I　mean？　Or　a　sausage？　I　had　a　sausage　last　night；　and　it　was　good。　They're　made　with　pork；　I　think。〃
　〃I　thank　you；　m'lord；　but　we　have　another　show。〃　The　girl　rose；　and　ran　off　to　the　fierce　fat　Dornishwoman　who　worked　the　puppet　knight　while　Dunk　stood　there　feeling　stupid。　He　liked　the　way　she　ran；　though。　A　pretty　girl；　and　tall。　I　would　not　have　to　kneel　to　kiss　that　one。　He　knew　how　to　kiss。　A　tavern　girl　had　showed　him　one　night　in　Lannisport；　a　year　ago；　but　she'd　been　so　short　she　had　to　sit　on　the　table　to　reach　his　lips。　The　memory　made　his　ears　burn。　What　a　great　fool　he　was。　It　was　jousting　he　should　be　thinking　about；　not　kissing。
　Lord　Ashford's　carpenters　were　whitewashing　the　waist…high　wooden　barriers　that　would　separate　the　jousters。　Dunk　watched　them　work　awhile。　There　were　five　lanes；　arrayed　north　to　south　so　none　of　the　petitors　would　ride　with　the　sun　in　his　eyes。　A　three…tiered　viewing　stand　had　been　raised　on　the　eastern　side　of　the　lists；　with　an　orange　canopy　to　shield　the　lords　and　ladies　from　rain　and　sun。　Most　would　sit　on　benches；　but　four　high…backed　chairs　had　been　erected　in　the　center　of　the　platform；　for　Lord　Ashford；　the　fair　maid；　and　the　visiting　princes。
　On　the　eastern　verge　of　the　meadow；　a　quintain　had　been　set　up　and　a　dozen　knights　were　tilting　at　it；　sending　the　pole　arm　spinning　every　time　they　struck　the　splintered　shield　suspended　from　one　end。　Dunk　watched　the　Brute　of　Bracken　take　his　turn；　and　then　Lord　Caron　of　the　Marches。　I　do　not　have　as　good　a　seat　as　any　of　them；　he　thought　uneasily。
　Elsewhere；　men　were　training　afoot；　going　at　each　other　with　wooden　swords　while　their　squires　stood　shouting　ribald　advice。　Dunk　watched　a　stocky　youth　try　to　hold　off　a　muscular　knight　who　seemed　lithe　and　quick　as　a　mountain　cat。　Both　had　the　red　apple　of　the　Fossoways　painted　on　their　shields；　but　the　younger　man's　was　soon　hacked　and　chipped　to　pieces。　〃Here's　an　apple　that's　not　ripe　yet；〃　the　older　said　as　he　slammed　the　other's　helm。　The　younger　Fossoway　was　bruised　and　bloody　by　the　time　he　yielded；　but　his　foe　was　hardly　winded。　He　raised　his　visor；　looked　about；　saw　Dunk；　and　said；　〃You　there。　Yes；　you；　the　big　one。　Knight　of　the　winged　chalice。　Is　that　a　longsword　you　wear？〃
　〃It　is　mine　by　rights；〃　Dunk　said　defensively。　〃I　am　Ser　Duncan　the　Tall。〃
　〃And　I　Ser　Steffon　Fossoway。　Would　you　care　to　try　me；　Ser　Duncan　the　Tall？　It　would　be　good　to　have　someone　new　to　cross　swords　with。　My　cousin's　not　ripe　yet；　as　you've　seen。〃
　〃Do　it；　Ser　Duncan；〃　urged　the　beaten　Fossoway　as　he　removed　his　helm。　〃I　may　not　be　ripe；　but　my　good　cousin　is　rotten　to　the　core。　Knock　the　seeds　out　of　him。〃
　Dunk　shook　his　head。　Why　were　these　lordlings　involving　him　in　their　quarrel？　He　wanted　no　part　of　it。　〃I　thank　you；　ser；　but　I　have　matters　to　attend。〃　He　was　unfortable　carrying　so　much　coin。　The　sooner　he　paid　Steely　Pate　and　got　his　armor；　the　happier　he　would　be。
　Ser　Steffon　looked　at　him　scornfully。　〃The　hedge　knight　has　matters。〃　He　glanced　about　and　found　another　likely　opponent　loitering　nearby。　〃Ser　Grance；　well　met。　e　try　me。　I　know　every　feeble　trick　my　cousin　Raymun　has　mastered；　and　it　seems　that　Ser　Duncan　needs　to　return　to　the　hedges。　e；　e。
　Dunk　stalked　away　red…faced。　He　did　not　have　many　tricks　himself；　feeble　or　otherwise；　and　he　did　not　want　anyone　to　see　him　fight　until　the　tourney。　The　old　man　always　said　that　the　better　you　knew　your　foe；　the　easier　it　was　to　best　him。　Knights　like　Ser　Steffon　had　sharp　eyes　to　find　a　man's　weakness　at　a　glance。　Dunk　was　strong　and　quick；　and　his　weight　and　reach　were　in　his　favor；　but　he　did　not　believe　for　a　moment　that　his　skills　were　the　equal　of　these　others。　Ser　Arlan　had　taught　him　as　best　he　could；　but　the　old　man　had　never　been　the　greatest　of　knights　even　when　young。　Great　knights　did　not　live　their　lives　in　the　hedges；　or　die　by　the　side　of　a　muddy　road。　That　will　not　happen　to　me；　Dunk　vowed。　I　will　show　them　that　I　can　be　more　than　a　hedge　knight。
　〃Ser　Duncan。〃　The　younger　Fossoway　hurried　to　catch　him。　〃I　should　not　have　urged　you　to　try　my　cousin。　I　was　angry　with　his　arrogance；　and　you　are　so　large；　I　thought　。　。　。　well；　it　was　wrong　of　me。　You　wear　no　armor。　He　would　have　broken　your　hand　if　he　could；　or　a　knee。　He　likes　to　batter　men　in　the　training　yard；　so　they　will　be　bruised　and　vulnerable　later；　should　he　meet　them　in　the　lists。〃
　〃He　did　not　break　you。〃
　〃No；　but　I　am　his　own　blood；　though　his　is　the　senior　branch　of　the　apple　tree；　as　he　never　ceases　to　remind　me。　I　am　Raymun　Fossoway。〃
　〃Well　met。　Will　you　and　your　cousin　ride　in　the　tourney？〃
　〃He　will；　for　a　certainty。　As　to　me；　would　that　I　could。　I　am　only　a　squire　as　yet。　My　cousin　has　promised　to　knight　me；　but　insists　that　I　am　not　ripe　yet。〃　Raymun　had　a　square　face；　a　pug　nose；　and　short　woolly　hair；　but　his　smile　was　engaging。　〃You　have　the　look　of　a　challenger；　it　seems　to　me。　Whose　shield　do　you　mean　to　strike？〃
　〃It　makes　no　difference；〃　said　Dunk。　That　was　what　you　were　supposed　to　say；　though　it　made　all　the　difference　in　the　world。　〃I　will　not　enter　the　lists　until　the　third　day。〃
　〃And　by　then　some　of　the　champions　will　have　fallen；　yes；〃　Raymun　said。　〃Well；　may　the　Warrior　smile　on　you；　ser。〃
　〃And　you。〃　If　he　is　only　a　squire；　what　business　do　I　have　being　a　knight？　One　of　us　is　a　fool。　The　silver　in　Dunk's　pouch　clinked　with　every　step；　but　he　could　lose　it　all　in　a　heartbeat；　he　knew。　Even　the　rules　of　this　tourney　worked　against　him；　making　it　very　unlikely　that　he　would　face　a　green　or　feeble　foe。
　There　were　a　dozen　different　forms　a　tourney　might　follow；　according　to　the　whim　of　the　lord　who　hosted　it。　Some　were　mock　battles　between　teams　of　knights；　others　wild　melees　where　the　glory　went　to　the　last　fighter　left　standing。　Where　individual　bats　were　the　rule；　pairings　were　sometimes　determined　by　lot；　and　sometimes　by　the　master　of　the　games。
　Lord　Ashford　was　staging　this　tourney　to　celebrate　his　daughter's　thirteenth　nameday。　The　fair　maid　would　sit　by　her　father's　side　as　the　reigning　Queen　of　Love　and　Beauty。　Five　champions　wearing　her　favors　would　defend　her。　All　others　must　perforce　be　challengers；　but　any　man　who　could　defeat　one　of　the　champions　would　take　his　place　and　stand　as　a　champion　himself；　until　such　time　as　another　challenger　unseated　him。　At　the　end　of　three　days　of　jousting；　the　five　who　remained　would　determine　whether　the　fair　maid　would　retain　the　crown　of　Love　and　Beauty；　or　whether　another　would　wear　it　in　her　place。
　Dunk　stared　at　the　grassy　lists　and　the　empty　chairs　on　the　viewing　stand　and　pondered　his　chances。　One　victory　was　all　he　needed；　then　he　could　name　himself　one　of　the　champions　of　Ashford　Meadow；　if　only　for　an　hour。　The　old　man　had　lived　nigh　on　sixty　years　and　had　never　been　a　champion。　It　is　not　too　much　to　hope　for；　if　the　gods　are　good。　He　thought　back　on　all　the　songs　he　had　heard；　songs　of　blind　Symeon　Star…Eyes　and　noble　Serwyn　of　the　Mirror　Shield；　of　Prince　Aemon　the　Dragonknight；　Ser　Ryam　Redywne；　and　Florian　the　Fool。　They　had　all　won　victories　against　foes　far　more　terrible　than　any　he　would　face。　But　they　were　great　heroes；　brave　men　of　noble　birth；　except　for　Florian。　And　what　am　I？　Dunk　of　Flea　Bottom？　Or　Ser　Duncan　the　Tall？
　He　supposed　he　would　learn　the　truth　of　that　soon　enough。　He　hefted　the　sack　of　armor　and　turned　his　feet　toward　the　merchants'　stalls；　in　search　of　Steely　Pate。
　
　Egg　had　worked　manfully　at　the　campsite。　Dunk　was　pleased；　he　had　been　half　afraid　his　squire　would　run　off　again。　〃Did　you　get　a　good　price　for　your　palfrey？〃　the　boy　asked。
　〃How　did　you　know　I'd　sold　her？〃
　〃You　rode　off　and　walked　back；　and　if　robbers　had　stolen　her　you'd　be　more　angry　than　you　are。〃
　〃I　got　enough　for　this。〃　Dunk　took　out　his　new　armor　to　show　the　boy。　〃If　you're　ever　to　be　a　knight；　you'll　need　to　know　good　steel　from　bad。　Look　here；　this　is　fine　work。　This　mail　is　double…chain