grrm.astormofswords-第104节

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　lord　took　back　all　the　ground　the　Hound　had　gained；　sending　Clegane　staggering　to　the　very　edge　of　the　firepit　once　more。　He　is；　he　is；　he's　going　to　die。　She　stood　on　her　toes　for　a　better　look。
　〃Bloody　bastard！〃　the　Hound　screamed　as　he　felt　the　fire　licking　against　the　back　of　his　thighs。　He　charged；　swinging　the　heavy　sword　harder　and　harder；　trying　to　smash　the　smaller　man　down　with　brute　force；　to　break　blade　or　shield　or　arm。　But　the　flames　of　Dondarrion's　parries　snapped　at　his　eyes；　and　when　the　Hound　jerked　away　from　them；　his　foot　went　out　from　under　him　and　he　staggered　to　one　knee。　At　once　Lord　Beric　closed；　his　downcut　screaming　through　the　air　trailing　permons　of　fire。　Panting　from　exertion；　Clegane　jerked　his　shield　up　over　his　head　just　in　time；　and　the　cave　rang　with　the　loud　crack　of　splintering　oak。
　〃His　shield　is　afire；〃　Gendry　said　in　a　hushed　voice。　Arya　saw　it　in　the　same　instant。　The　flames　had　spread　across　the　chipped　yellow　paint；　and　the　three　black　dogs　were　engulfed。
　Sandor　Clegane　had　fought　his　way　back　to　his　feet　with　a　reckless　counterattack。　Not　until　Lord　Beric　retreated　a　pace　did　the　Hound　seem　to　realize　that　the　fire　that　roared　so　near　his　face　was　his　own　shield；　burning。　With　a　shout　of　revulsion；　he　hacked　down　savagely　on　the　broken　oak；　pleting　its　destruction。　The　shield　shattered；　one　piece　of　it　spinning　away；　still　afire；　while　the　other　clung　stubbornly　to　his　forearm。　His　efforts　to　free　himself　only　fanned　the　flames。　His　sleeve　caught；　and　now　his　whole　left　arm　was　ablaze。　〃Finish　him！〃　Greenbeard　urged　Lord　Beric；　and　other　voices　took　up　the　chant　of　〃Guilty！〃　Arya　shouted　with　the　rest。　〃Guilty；　guilty；　kill　him；　guilty！〃
　Smooth　as　summer　silk；　Lord　Beric　slid　close　to　make　an　end　of　the　man　before　him。　The　Hound　gave　a　rasping　scream；　raised　his　sword　in　both　hands　and　brought　it　crashing　down　with　all　his　strength。　Lord　Beric　blocked　the　cut　easily　。　。　。
　〃Noooooo；〃　Arya　shrieked。
　　。　。　。　but　the　burning　sword　snapped　in　two；　and　the　Hound's　cold　steel　plowed　into　Lord　Beric's　flesh　where　his　shoulder　joined　his　neck　and　clove　him　clean　down　to　the　breastbone。　The　blood　came　rushing　out　in　a　hot　black　gush。
　Sandor　Clegane　jerked　backward；　still　burning。　He　ripped　the　remnants　of　his　shield　off　and　flung　them　away　with　a　curse；　then　rolled　in　the　dirt　to　smother　the　fire　running　along　his　arm。
　Lord　Beric's　knees　folded　slowly；　as　if　for　prayer。　When　his　mouth　opened　only　blood　came　out。　The　Hound's　sword　was　still　in　him　as　he　toppled　face　forward。　The　dirt　drank　his　blood。　Beneath　the　hollow　hill　there　was　no　sound　but　the　soft　crackling　of　flames　and　the　whimper　the　Hound　made　when　he　tried　to　rise。　Arya　could　only　think　of　Mycah　and　all　the　stupid　prayers　she'd　prayed　for　the　Hound　to　die。　If　there　were　gods；　why　didn't　Lord　Beric　win？　She　knew　the　Hound　was　guilty。
　〃Please；〃　Sandor　Clegane　rasped；　cradling　his　arm。　〃I'm　burned。　Help　me。　Someone。　Help　me。〃　He　was　crying。　〃Please。〃
　Arya　looked　at　him　in　astonishment。　He's　crying　like　a　little　baby；　she　thought。
　〃Melly；　see　to　his　burns；〃　said　Thoros。　〃Lem；　Jack；　help　me　with　Lord　Beric。　Ned；　you'd　best　e　too。〃　The　red　priest　wrenched　the　Hound's　sword　from　the　body　of　his　fallen　lord　and　thrust　the　point　of　it　down　in　the　blood…soaked　earth。　Lem　slid　his　big　hands　under　Dondarrion's　arms；　while　Jack…Be…Lucky　took　his　feet。　They　carried　him　around　the　firepit；　into　the　darkness　of　one　of　the　tunnels。　Thoros　and　the　boy　Ned　followed　after。
　The　Mad　Huntsman　spat。　〃I　say　we　take　him　back　to　Stoney　Sept　and　put　him　in　a　crow　cage。〃
　〃Yes；〃　Arya　said。　〃He　murdered　Mycah。　He　did。〃
　〃Such　an　angry　squirrel；〃　murmured　Greenbeard。
　Harwin　sighed。　〃R'hllor　has　judged　him　innocent。〃
　〃Who's　Rulore？〃　She　couldn't　even　say　it。
　〃The　Lord　of　Light。　Thoros　has　taught　us…〃
　She　didn't　care　what　Thoros　had　taught　them。　She　yanked　Greenbeard's　dagger　from　its　sheath　and　spun　away　before　he　could　catch　her。　Gendry　made　a　grab　for　her　as　well；　but　she　had　always　been　too　fast　for　Gendry。
　Tom　Sevenstrings　and　some　woman　were　helping　the　Hound　to　his　feet。　The　sight　of　his　arm　shocked　her　speechless。　There　was　a　strip　of　pink　where　the　leather　strap　had　clung；　but　above　and　below　the　flesh　was　cracked　and　red　and　bleeding　from　elbow　to　wrist。　When　his　eyes　met　hers；　his　mouth　twitched。　〃You　want　me　dead　that　bad？　Then　do　it；　wolf　girl。　Shove　it　in。　It's　cleaner　than　fire。〃　Clegane　tried　to　stand；　but　as　he　moved　a　piece　of　burned　flesh　sloughed　right　off　his　arm；　and　his　knees　went　out　from　under　him。　Tom　caught　him　by　his　good　arm　and　held　him　up。
　His　arm；　Arya　thought；　and　his　face。　But　he　was　the　Hound。　He　deserved　to　burn　in　a　fiery　hell。　The　knife　felt　heavy　in　her　hand。　She　gripped　it　tighter。　〃You　killed　Mycah；〃　she　said　once　more；　daring　him　to　deny　it。　〃Tell　them。　You　did。　You　did。〃
　〃I　did。〃　His　whole　face　twisted。　〃I　rode　him　down　and　cut　him　in　half；　and　laughed。　I　watched　them　beat　your　sister　bloody　too；　watched　them　cut　your　father's　head　off。〃
　Lem　grabbed　her　wrist　and　twisted；　wrenching　the　dagger　away。　She　kicked　at　him；　but　he　would　not　give　it　back。　〃You　go　to　hell；　Hound；〃　she　screamed　at　Sandor　Clegane　in　helpless　empty…handed　rage。　〃You　just　go　to　hell！〃
　〃He　has；〃　said　a　voice　scarce　stronger　than　a　whisper。
　When　Arya　turned；　Lord　Beric　Dondarrion　was　standing　behind　her；　his　bloody　hand　clutching　Thoros　by　the　shoulder。
　
　CHAPTER　35
　CATELYN
　
　Let　the　kings　of　winter　have　their　cold　crypt　under　the　earth；　Catelyn　thought。　The　Tullys　drew　their　strength　from　the　river；　and　it　was　to　the　river　they　returned　when　their　lives　had　run　their　course。
　They　laid　Lord　Hoster　in　a　slender　wooden　boat；　clad　in　shining　silver　armor；　plate…and…mail。　His　cloak　was　spread　beneath　him；　rippling　blue　and　red。　His　surcoat　was　divided　blue…and…red　as　well。　A　trout；　scaled　in　silver　and　bronze；　crowned　the　crest　of　the　greathelm　they　placed　beside　his　head。　On　his　chest　they　placed　a　painted　wooden　sword；　his　fingers　curled　about　its　hilt。　Mail　gauntlets　hid　his　wasted　hands；　and　made　him　look　almost　strong　again。　His　massive　oak…and…iron　shield　was　set　by　his　left　side；　his　hunting　horn　to　his　right。　The　rest　of　the　boat　was　filled　with　driftwood　and　kindling　and　scraps　of　parchment；　and　stones　to　make　it　heavy　in　the　water。　His　banner　flew　from　the　prow；　the　leaping　trout　of　Riverrun。
　Seven　were　chosen　to　push　the　funereal　boat　to　the　water；　in　honor　of　the　seven　faces　of　god。　Robb　was　one；　Lord　Hoster's　liege　lord。　With　him　were　the　Lords　Bracken；　Blackwood；　Vance；　and　Mallister；　Ser　Marq　Piper　。　。　。　and　Lame　Lothar　Frey；　who　had　e　down　from　the　Twins　with　the　answer　they　had　awaited。　Forty　soldiers　rode　in　his　escort；　manded　by　Walder　Rivers；　the　eldest　of　Lord　Walder's　bastard　brood；　a　stem；　grey…haired　man　with　a　formidable　reputation　as　a　warrior。　Their　arrival；　ing　within　hours　of　Lord　Hoster's　passing；　had　sent　Edmure　into　a　rage。　〃Walder　Frey　should　be　flayed　and　quartered！〃　he'd　shouted。　〃He　sends　a　cripple　and　a　bastard　to　treat　with　us；　tell　me　there　is　no　insult　meant　by　that。〃
　〃I　have　no　doubt　that　Lord　Walder　chose　his　envoys　with　care；〃　she　replied。　〃It　was　a　peevish　thing　to　do；　a　petty　sort　of　revenge；　but　remember　who　we　are　dealing　with。　The　Late　Lord　Frey；　Father　used　to　call　him。　The　man　is　ill…tempered；　envious；　and　above　all　prideful。〃
　Blessedly；　her　son　had　shown　better　sense　than　her　brother。　Robb　had　greeted　the　Freys　with　every　courtesy；　found　barracks　space　for　the　escort；　and　quietly　asked　Ser　Desmond　Grell　to　stand　aside　so　Lothar　might　have　the　honor　of　helping　to　send　Lord　Hoster　on　his　last　voyage。　He　has　learned　a　rough　wisdom　beyond　his　years；　my　son。　House　Frey　might　have　abandoned　the　King　in　the　North；　but　the　Lord　of　the　Crossing　remained　the　most　powerful　of　Riverrun's　bannermen；　and　Lothar　was　here　in　his　stead。
　The　seven　launched　Lord　Hoster　from　the　water　stair；　wading　down　the　steps　as　the　portcullis　was　winched　upward。　Lothar　Frey；　a　soft…bodied　portly　man；　was　breathing　heavily　as　they　shoved　the　boat　out　into　the　current。　Jason　Mallister　and　Tytos　Blackwood；　at　the　prow；　stood　chest　deep　in　the　river　to　guide　it　on　its　way。
　Catelyn　watched　from　the　battlements；　waiting　and　watching　as　she　had　waited　and　watched　so　many　times　before。　Beneath　her；　the　swift　wild　Tumblestone　plunged　like　a　spear　into　the　side　of　the　broad　Red　Fork；　its　blue…white　current　churning　the　muddy　red…brown　flow　of　the　greater　river。　A　morning　mist　hung　over　the　water；　as　thin　as　gossamer　and　the　wisps　of　memory。
　Bran　and　Rickon　will　be　waiting　for　him；　Catelyn　thought　sadly；　as　once　I　used　to　wait。
　The　slim　boat　drifted　out　from　under　the　red　stone　arch　of　the　Water　Gate；　picking　up　speed　as　it　was　caught　in　the　headlong　rush　of　the　Tumblestone　and　pushed　out　into　the　tumult　where　the　waters　met。　As　the　boat　emerged　from　beneath　the　high　sheltering　walls　of　the　castle；　its　square　sail　filled　with　wind；　and　Catelyn　saw　sunlight　flashing　on　her　father's　helm。　Lord　Hoster　Tully's　rudder　held　true；　and　he　sailed　serenely　down　the　center　of　the　channel；　into　the　rising　sun。
　〃Now；〃　her　uncle　urged。　Beside　him；　her　brother　Edmure…