grrm.astormofswords-第124节

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ulfed　the　orange　sun；　and　Lerm　foretold　a　bad　storm　ing。　His　mother　was　a　woods　witch；　so　all　the　raiders　agreed　he　had　a　gift　for　foretelling　the　weather。　〃There's　a　village　close；〃　Grigg　the　Goat　told　the　Magnar。　〃Two　miles；　three。　We　could　shelter　there。〃　Styr　agreed　at　once。
　It　was　well　past　dark　and　the　storm　was　raging　by　the　time　they　reached　the　place。　The　village　sat　beside　a　lake；　and　had　been　so　long　abandoned　that　most　of　the　houses　had　collapsed。　Even　the　small　timber　inn　that　must　once　have　been　a　wele　sight　for　travelers　stood　half…fallen　and　roofless。　We　will　find　scant　shelter　here；　Jon　thought　gloomily。　Whenever　the　lightning　flashed　he　could　see　a　stone　roundtower　rising　from　an　island　out　in　the　lake；　but　without　boats　they　had　no　way　to　reach　it。
　Errok　and　Del　had　crept　ahead　to　scout　the　ruins；　but　Del　was　back　almost　at　once。　Styr　halted　the　column　and　sent　a　dozen　of　his　Therms　trotting　forward；　spears　in　hand。　By　then　Jon　had　seen　it　too：　the　glimmer　of　a　fire；　reddening　the　chimney　of　the　inn。　We　are　not　alone。　Dread　coiled　inside　him　like　a　snake。　He　heard　a　horse　neigh；　and　then　shouts。　Ride　with　them；　eat　with　them；　fight　with　them；　Qhorin　had　said。
　But　the　fighting　was　done。　〃There's　only　one　of　them；〃　Errok　said　when　he　came　back。　〃An　old　man　with　a　horse。〃
　The　Magnar　shouted　mands　in　the　Old　Tongue　and　a　score　of　his　Therms　spread　out　to　establish　a　perimeter　around　the　village；　whilst　others　went　prowling　through　the　houses　to　make　certain　no　one　else　was　hiding　amongst　the　weeds　and　tumbled　stones。　The　rest　crowded　into　the　roofless　inn；　jostling　each　other　to　get　closer　to　the　hearth。　The　broken　branches　the　old　man　had　been　burning　seemed　to　generate　more　smoke　than　heat；　but　any　warmth　was　wele　on　such　a　wild　rainy　night。　Two　of　the　Therms　had　thrown　the　man　to　the　ground　and　were　going　through　his　things。　Another　held　his　horse；　while　three　more　looted　his　saddlebags。
　Jon　walked　away。　A　rotten　apple　squished　beneath　his　heel。　Styr　will　kill　him。　The　Magnar　had　said　as　much　at　Greyguard；　any　kneelers　they　met　were　to　be　put　to　death　at　once；　to　make　certain　they　could　not　raise　the　alarm。　Ride　with　them；　eat　with　them；　fight　with　them。　Did　that　mean　he　must　stand　mute　and　helpless　while　they　slit　an　old　man's　throat？
　Near　the　edge　of　the　village；　Jon　came　face…to…face　with　one　of　the　guards　Styr　had　posted。　The　Therm　growled　something　in　the　Old　Tongue　and　pointed　his　spear　back　toward　the　inn。　Get　back　where　you　belong；　Jon　guessed。　But　where　is　that？
　He　walked　towards　the　water；　and　discovered　an　almost　dry　spot　beneath　the　leaning　daub…and…wattle　wall　of　a　tumbledown　cottage　that　had　mostly　tumbled　down。　That　was　where　Ygritte　found　him　sitting；　staring　off　across　the　rain…whipped　lake。　〃I　know　this　place；〃　he　told　her　when　she　sat　beside　him。　〃That　tower　。　。　。　look　at　the　top　of　it　the　next　time　the　lightning　flashes；　and　tell　me　what　you　see。〃
　〃Aye；　if　you　like；〃　she　said；　and　then；　〃Some　o'　the　Therms　are　saying　they　heard　noises　out　there。　Shouting；　they　say。〃
　〃Thunder。〃
　〃They　say　shouting。　Might　be　it's　ghosts。〃
　The　holdfast　did　have　a　grim　haunted　look；　standing　there　black　against　the　storm　on　its　rocky　island　with　the　rain　lashing　at　the　lake　all　around　it。　〃We　could　go　out　and　take　a　look；〃　he　suggested。　〃I　doubt　we　could　get　much　wetter　than　we　are。〃
　〃Swimming？　In　the　storm？〃　She　laughed　at　the　notion。　〃Is　this　a　trick　t'　get　the　clothes　off　me；　Jon　Snow？〃
　〃Do　I　need　a　trick　for　that　now？〃　he　teased。　〃Or　is　that　you　can't　swim　a　stroke？〃　Jon　was　a　strong　swimmer　himself；　having　learned　the　art　as　a　boy　in　Winterfell's　great　moat。
　Ygritte　punched　his　arm。　〃You　know　nothing；　Jon　Snow。　I'm　half　a　fish；　I'll　have　you　know。〃
　〃Half　fish；　half　goat；　half　horse　。　。　。　there's　too　many　halves　to　you；　Ygritte。〃　He　shook　his　head。　〃We　wouldn't　need　to　swim；　if　this　is　the　place　I　think。　We　could　walk。〃
　She　pulled　back　and　gave　him　a　look。　〃Walk　on　water？　What　southron　sorcery　is　that？〃
　〃No　sorc…〃　he　began；　as　a　huge　bolt　of　lightning　stabbed　down　from　the　sky　and　touched　the　surface　of　the　lake。　For　half　a　heartbeat　the　world　was　noonday　bright。　The　clap　of　thunder　was　so　loud　that　Ygritte　gasped　and　covered　her　ears。
　〃Did　you　look？〃　Jon　asked；　as　the　sound　rolled　away　and　the　night　turned　black　again。　〃Did　you　see？〃
　〃Yellow；〃　she　said。　〃Is　that　what　you　meant？　Some　o'　them　standing　stones　on　top　were　yellow。〃
　〃We　call　them　merlons。　They　were　painted　gold　a　long　time　ago。　This　is　Queenscrown。〃
　Across　the　lake；　the　tower　was　black　again；　a　dim　shape　dimly　seen。　〃A　queen　lived　there？〃　asked　Ygritte。
　〃A　queen　stayed　there　for　a　night。〃　Old　Nan　had　told　him　the　story；　but　Maester　Luwin　had　confirmed　most　of　it。　〃Alysanne；　the　wife　of　King　jaehaerys　the　Conciliator。　He's　called　the　Old　King　because　he　reigned　so　long；　but　he　was　young　when　he　first　came　to　the　Iron　Throne。　In　those　days；　it　was　his　wont　to　travel　all　over　the　realm。　When　he　came　to　Winterfell；　he　brought　his　queen；　six　dragons；　and　half　his　court。　The　king　had　matters　to　discuss　with　his　Warden　of　the　North；　and　Alysanne　grew　bored；　so　she　mounted　her　dragon　Silverwing　and　flew　north　to　see　the　Wall。　This　village　was　one　of　the　places　where　she　stopped。　Afterward　the　smallfolk　painted　the　top　of　their　holdfast　to　look　like　the　golden　crown　she'd　worn　when　she　spent　the　night　among　them。〃
　〃I　have　never　seen　a　dragon。〃
　〃No　one　has。　The　last　dragons　died　a　hundred　years　ago　or　more。　But　this　was　before　that。〃
　〃Queen　Alysanne；　you　say？〃
　〃Good　Queen　Alysanne；　they　called　her　later。　One　of　the　castles　on　the　Wall　was　named　for　her　as　well。　Queensgate。　Before　her　visit　they　called　it　Snowgate。〃
　〃If　she　was　so　good；　she　should　have　torn　that　Wall　down。〃
　No；　he　thought。　The　Wall　protects　the　realm。　From　the　Others　。　。　。　and　from　you　and　your　kind　as　well；　sweetling。　〃I　had　another　friend　who　dreamed　of　dragons。　A　dwarf。　He　told　me…〃
　〃JON　SNOW！〃　One　of　the　Thenns　loomed　above　them；　frowning。　〃Magnar　wants。〃　Jon　thought　it　might　have　been　the　same　man　who'd　found　him　outside　the　cave；　the　night　before　they　climbed　the　Wall；　but　he　could　not　be　sure。　He　got　to　his　feet。　Ygritte　came　with　him；　which　always　made　Styr　frown；　but　whenever　he　tried　to　dismiss　her　she　would　remind　him　that　she　was　a　free　woman；　not　a　kneeler。　She　came　and　went　as　she　pleased。
　They　found　the　Magnar　standing　beneath　the　tree　that　grew　through　the　floor　of　the　mon　room。　His　captive　knelt　before　the　hearth；　encircled　by　wooden　spears　and　bronze　swords。　He　watched　Jon　approach；　but　did　not　speak。　The　rain　was　running　down　the　walls　and　pattering　against　the　last　few　leaves　that　still　clung　to　the　tree；　while　smoke　swirled　thick　from　the　fire。
　〃He　must　die；〃　Styr　the　Magnar　said。　〃Do　it；　crow。〃
　The　old　man　said　no　word。　He　only　looked　at　Jon；　standing　amongst　the　wildlings。　Amidst　the　rain　and　smoke；　lit　only　by　the　fire；　he　could　not　have　seen　that　Jon　was　all　in　black；　but　for　his　sheepskin　cloak。　Or　could　he？
　Jon　drew　Longclaw　from　its　sheath。　Rain　washed　the　steel；　and　the　firelight　traced　a　sullen　orange　line　along　the　edge。　Such　a　small　fire；　to　cost　a　man　his　life。　He　remembered　what　Qhorin　Halfhand　had　said　when　they　spied　the　fire　in　the　Skirling　Pass。　Fire　is　life　up　here；　he　told　them；　but　it　can　be　death　as　well。　That　was　high　in　the　Frostfangs；　though；　in　the　lawless　wild　beyond　the　Wall。　This　was　the　Gift；　protected　by　the　Night's　Watch　and　the　power　of　Winterfell。　A　man　should　have　been　free　to　build　a　fire　here；　without　dying　for　it。
　〃Why　do　you　hesitate？〃　Styr　said。　〃Kill　him；　and　be　done。〃
　Even　then　the　captive　did　not　speak。　〃Mercy；〃　he　might　have　said；　or　〃You　have　taken　my　horse；　my　coin；　my　food；　let　me　keep　my　life；〃　or　〃No；　please；　I　have　done　you　no　harm。〃　He　might　have　said　a　thousand　things；　or　wept；　or　called　upon　his　gods。　No　words　would　save　him　now；　though。　Perhaps　he　knew　that。　So　he　held　his　tongue；　and　looked　at　Jon　in　accusation　and　appeal。
　You　must　not　balk；　whatever　is　asked　of　you。　Ride　with　them；　eat　with　them；　fight　with　them　。　。　。　But　this　old　man　had　offered　no　resistance。　He　had　been　unlucky；　that　was　all。　Who　he　was；　where　he　came　from；　where　he　meant　to　go　on　his　sorry　sway…backed　horse　。　。　。　none　of　it　mattered。
　He　is　an　old　man；　Jon　told　himself。　Fifty；　maybe　even　sixty。　He　lived　a　longer　life　than　most。　The　Thenns　will　kill　him　anyway；　nothing　I　can　say　or　do　will　save　him。　Longclaw　seemed　heavier　than　lead　in　his　hand；　too　heavy　to　lift。　The　man　kept　staring　at　him；　with　eyes　as　big　and　black　as　wells。　I　will　fall　into　those　eyes　and　drown。　The　Magnar　was　looking　at　him　too；　and　he　could　almost　taste　the　mistrust。　The　man　is　dead。　What　matter　if　it　is　my　hand　that　slays　him？　One　cut　would　do　it；　quick　and　clean。　Longclaw　was　forged　of　Valyrian　steel。　Like　Ice。　Jon　remembered　another　killing；　the　deserter　on　his　knees；　his　head　rolling；　the　brightness　of　blood　on　snow　。　。　。　his　father's　sword；　his　father's　words；　his　father's　face　。　。　。
　〃Do　it；　Jon　Snow；〃　Ygritte　urged。　〃You　must。　To　prove　you　are　no　crow；　but　one　o'　the　free　folk。〃
　〃An　old　man　sitting　by　a　fire？〃
　〃Orell　was　sitting　by　a　fire　too。　You　killed　him　qu