grrm.astormofswords-第167节

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　So　they　went　exploring；　Jojen　Reed　leading；　Bran　in　his　basket　on　Hodor's　back；　Summer　padding　by　their　side。　Once　the　direwolf　bolted　through　a　dark　door　and　returned　a　moment　later　with　a　grey　rat　between　his　teeth。　The　Rat　Cook；　Bran　thought；　but　it　was　the　wrong　color；　and　only　as　big　as　a　cat。　The　Rat　Cook　was　white；　and　almost　as　huge　as　a　sow　。　。　。
　There　were　a　lot　of　dark　doors　in　the　Nightfort；　and　a　lot　of　rats。　Bran　could　hear　them　scurrying　through　the　vaults　and　cellars；　and　the　maze　of　pitch…black　tunnels　that　connected　them。　Jojen　wanted　to　go　poking　around　down　there；　but　Hodor　said　〃Hodor〃　to　that；　and　Bran　said　〃No。〃　There　were　worse　things　than　rats　down　in　the　dark　beneath　the　Nightfort。
　〃This　seems　an　old　place；〃　Jojen　said　as　they　walked　down　a　gallery　where　the　sunlight　fell　in　dusty　shafts　through　empty　windows。
　〃Twice　as　old　as　Castle　Black；〃　Bran　said；　remembering。　〃It　was　the　first　castle　on　the　Wall；　and　the　largest。〃　But　it　had　also　been　the　first　abandoned；　all　the　way　back　in　the　time　of　the　Old　King。　Even　then　it　had　been　three…quarters　empty　and　too　costly　to　maintain。　Good　Queen　Alysanne　had　suggested　that　the　Watch　replace　it　with　a　smaller；　newer　castle　at　a　spot　only　seven　miles　east；　where　the　Wall　curved　along　the　shore　of　a　beautiful　green　lake。　Deep　Lake　had　been　paid　for　by　the　queen's　jewels　and　built　by　the　men　the　Old　King　had　sent　north；　and　the　black　brothers　had　abandoned　the　Nightfort　to　the　rats。
　That　was　two　centuries　past；　though。　Now　Deep　Lake　stood　as　empty　as　the　castle　it　had　replaced；　and　the　Nightfort　。　。　。
　〃There　are　ghosts　here；〃　Bran　said。　Hodor　had　heard　all　the　stories　before；　but　Jojen　might　not　have。　〃Old　ghosts；　from　before　the　Old　King；　even　before　Aegon　the　Dragon；　seventy…nine　deserters　who　went　south　to　be　outlaws。　One　was　Lord　Ryswell's　youngest　son；　so　when　they　reached　the　barrowlands　they　sought　shelter　at　his　castle；　but　Lord　Ryswell　took　them　captive　and　returned　them　to　the　Nightfort。　The　Lord　mander　had　holes　hewn　in　the　top　of　the　Wall　and　he　put　the　deserters　in　them　and　sealed　them　up　alive　in　the　ice。　They　have　spears　and　horns　and　they　all　face　north。　The　seventy…nine　sentinels；　they're　called。　They　left　their　posts　in　life；　so　in　death　their　watch　goes　on　forever。　Years　later；　when　Lord　Ryswell　was　old　and　dying；　he　had　himself　carried　to　the　Nightfort　so　he　could　take　the　black　and　stand　beside　his　son。　He'd　sent　him　back　to　the　Wall　for　honor's　sake；　but　he　loved　him　still；　so　he　came　to　share　his　watch。〃
　They　spent　half　the　day　poking　through　the　castle。　Some　of　the　towers　had　fallen　down　and　others　looked　unsafe；　but　they　climbed　the　bell　tower　（the　bells　were　gone）　and　the　rookery　（the　birds　were　gone）。　Beneath　the　brewhouse　they　found　a　vault　of　huge　oaken　casks　that　boomed　hollowly　when　Hodor　knocked　on　them。　They　found　a　library　（the　shelves　and　bins　had　collapsed；　the　books　were　gone；　and　rats　were　everywhere）。
　They　found　a　dank　and　dim…lit　dungeon　with　cells　enough　to　hold　five　hundred　captives；　but　when　Bran　grabbed　hold　of　one　of　the　rusted　bars　it　broke　off　in　his　hand。　Only　one　crumbling　wall　remained　of　the　great　hall；　the　bathhouse　seemed　to　be　sinking　into　the　ground；　and　a　huge　thornbush　had　conquered　the　practice　yard　outside　the　armory　where　black　brothers　had　once　labored　with　spear　and　shield　and　sword。　The　armory　and　the　forge　still　stood；　however；　though　cobwebs；　rats；　and　dust　had　taken　the　places　of　blades；　bellows；　and　anvil。　Sometimes　Summer　would　hear　sounds　that　Bran　seemed　deaf　to；　or　bare　his　teeth　at　nothing；　the　fur　on　the　back　of　his　neck　bristling　。　。　。　but　the　Rat　Cook　never　put　in　an　appearance；　nor　the　seventy…nine　sentinels；　nor　Mad　Axe。　Bran　was　much　relieved。　Maybe　it　is　only　a　ruined　empty　castle。
　By　the　time　Meera　returned；　the　sun　was　only　a　sword's　breath　above　the　western　hills。　〃What　did　you　see？〃　her　brother　Jojen　asked　her。
　〃I　saw　the　haunted　forest；〃　she　said　in　a　wistful　tone。　〃Hills　rising　wild　as　far　as　the　eye　can　see；　covered　with　trees　that　no　axe　has　ever　touched。　I　saw　the　sunlight　glinting　off　a　lake；　and　clouds　sweeping　in　from　the　west。　I　saw　patches　of　old　snow；　and　icicles　long　as　pikes。　I　even　saw　an　eagle　circling。　I　think　he　saw　me　too。　I　waved　at　him。〃
　〃Did　you　see　a　way　down？〃　asked　Jojen。
　She　shook　her　head。　〃No。　It's　a　sheer　drop；　and　the　ice　is　so　smooth　I　might　be　able　to　make　the　descent　if　I　had　a　good　rope　and　an　axe　to　chop　out　handholds；　but　。　。　。〃
　〃　。　。　。　but　not　us；〃　Jojen　finished。
　〃No；〃　his　sister　agreed。　〃Are　you　sure　this　is　the　place　you　saw　in　your　dream？　Maybe　we　have　the　wrong　castle。〃
　〃No。　This　is　the　castle。　There　is　a　gate　here。〃
　Yes；　thought　Bran；　but　it's　blocked　by　stone　and　ice。
　As　the　sun　began　to　set　the　shadows　of　the　towers　lengthened　and　the　wind　blew　harder；　sending　gusts　of　dry　dead　leaves　rattling　through　the　yards。　The　gathering　gloom　put　Bran　in　mind　of　another　of　Old　Nan's　stories；　the　tale　of　Night's　King。　He　had　been　the　thirteenth　man　to　lead　the　Night's　Watch；　she　said；　a　warrior　who　knew　no　fear。　〃And　that　was　the　fault　in　him；〃　she　would　add；　〃for　all　men　must　know　fear。〃　A　woman　was　his　downfall；　a　woman　glimpsed　from　atop　the　Wall；　with　skin　as　white　as　the　moon　and　eyes　like　blue　stars。　Fearing　nothing；　he　chased　her　and　caught　her　and　loved　her；　though　her　skin　was　cold　as　ice；　and　when　he　gave　his　seed　to　her　he　gave　his　soul　as　well。
　He　brought　her　back　to　the　Nightfort　and　proclaimed　her　a　queen　and　himself　her　king；　and　with　strange　sorceries　he　bound　his　Sworn　Brothers　to　his　will。　For　thirteen　years　they　had　ruled；　Night's　King　and　his　corpse　queen；　till　finally　the　Stark　of　Winterfell　and　Joramun　of　the　wildlings　had　joined　to　free　the　Watch　from　bondage。　After　his　fall；　when　it　was　found　he　had　been　sacrificing　to　the　Others；　all　records　of　Night's　King　had　been　destroyed；　his　very　name　forbidden。
　〃Some　say　he　was　a　Bolton；〃　Old　Nan　would　always　end。　〃Some　say　a　Magnar　out　of　Skagos；　some　say　Umber；　Flint；　or　Norrey。　Some　would　have　you　think　he　was　a　Woodfoot；　from　them　who　ruled　Bear　island　before　the　ironmen　came。　He　never　was。　He　was　a　Stark；　the　brother　of　the　man　who　brought　him　down。〃　She　always　pinched　Bran　on　the　nose　then；　he　would　never　forget　it。　〃He　was　a　Stark　of　Winterfell；　and　who　can　say？　Mayhaps　his　name　was　Brandon。　Mayhaps　he　slept　in　this　very　bed　in　this　very　room。〃
　No；　Bran　thought；　but　he　walked　in　this　castle；　where　we'll　sleep　tonight。　He　did　not　like　that　notion　very　much　at　all。　Night's　King　was　only　a　man　by　light　of　day；　Old　Nan　would　always　say；　but　the　night　was　his　to　rule。　And　it's　getting　dark。
　The　Reeds　decided　that　they　would　sleep　in　the　kitchens；　a　stone　octagon　with　a　broken　dome。　it　looked　to　offer　better　shelter　than　most　of　the　other　buildings；　even　though　a　crooked　weirwood　had　burst　up　through　the　slate　floor　beside　the　huge　central　well；　stretching　slantwise　toward　the　hole　in　the　roof；　its　bone…white　branches　reaching　for　the　sun。　It　was　a　queer　kind　of　tree；　skinnier　than　any　other　weirwood　that　Bran　had　ever　seen　and　faceless　as　well；　but　it　made　him　feel　as　if　the　old　gods　were　with　him　here；　at　least。
　That　was　the　only　thing　he　liked　about　the　kitchens；　though。　The　roof　was　mostly　there；　so　they'd　be　dry　if　it　rained　again；　but　he　didn't　think　they　would　ever　get　warm　here。　You　could　feel　the　cold　seeping　up　through　the　slate　floor。　Bran　did　not　like　the　shadows　either；　or　the　huge　brick　ovens　that　surrounded　them　like　open　mouths；　or　the　rusted　meat　hooks；　or　the　scars　and　stains　he　saw　in　the　butcher's　block　along　one　wall。　That　was　where　the　Rat　Cook　chopped　the　prince　to　pieces；　he　knew；　and　he　baked　the　pie　in　one　of　these　ovens。
　The　well　was　the　thing　he　liked　the　least；　though。　It　was　a　good　twelve　feet　across；　all　stone；　with　steps　built　into　its　side；　circling　down　and　down　into　darkness。　The　walls　were　damp　and　covered　with　niter；　but　none　of　them　could　see　the　water　at　the　bottom；　not　even　Meera　with　her　sharp　hunter's　eyes。　〃Maybe　it　doesn't　have　a　bottom；〃　Bran　said　uncertainly。
　Hodor　peered　over　the　knee…high　lip　of　the　well　and　said；　〃HODOR！〃　The　word　echoed　down　the　well；　〃Hodorhodorhodorhodor；〃　fainter　and　fainter；　〃hodorhodorhodorhodor；〃　until　it　was　less　than　a　whisper。　Hodor　looked　startled。　Then　he　laughed；　and　bent　to　scoop　a　broken　piece　of　slate　off　the　floor。
　〃Hodor；　don't！〃　said　Bran；　but　too　late。　Hodor　tossed　the　slate　over　the　edge。　〃You　shouldn't　have　done　that。　You　don't　know　what's　down　there。　You　might　have　hurt　something；　or　。　。　。　or　woken　something　up。〃
　Hodor　looked　at　him　innocently。　〃Hodor？〃
　Far；　far；　far　below；　they　heard　the　sound　as　the　stone　found　water。　it　wasn't　a　splash；　not　truly。　It　was　more　a　gulp；　as　if　whatever　was　below　had　opened　a　quivering　gelid　mouth　to　swallow　Hodor's　stone。　Faint　echoes　traveled　up　the　well；　and　for　a　moment　Bran　thought　he　heard　something　moving；　thrashing　about　in　the　water。　〃Maybe　we　shouldn't　stay　here；〃　he　said　uneasily。
　〃By　the　well？〃　asked　Meera。　〃Or　in　the　Nightfort？〃
　〃Yes；〃　said　Bran。
　She　laughed；　and　sent　Hodor　out　to　gather　wood。　Summer　went　too。　It　was　almost　dark　by　then；　and　the　direwolf　wanted　to　hunt。
　Hodor