grrm.astormofswords-第170节

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　A　turn　or　two　later　Sam　stopped　suddenly。　He　was　a　quarter　of　the　way　around　the　well　from　Bran　and　Hodor　and　six　feet　farther　down；　yet　Bran　could　barely　see　him。　He　could　see　the　door；　though。　The　Black　Gate；　Sam　had　called　it；　but　it　wasn't　black　at　all。
　It　was　white　weirwood；　and　there　was　a　face　on　it。
　A　glow　came　from　the　wood；　like　milk　and　moonlight；　so　faint　it　scarcely　seemed　to　touch　anything　beyond　the　door　itself；　not　even　Sam　standing　right　before　it。　The　face　was　old　and　pale；　wrinkled　and　shrunken。　It　looks　dead。　Its　mouth　was　closed；　and　its　eyes；　its　cheeks　were　sunken；　its　brow　withered；　its　chin　sagging。　If　a　man　could　live　for　a　thousand　years　and　never　die　but　just　grow　older；　his　face　might　e　to　look　like　that。
　The　door　opened　its　eyes。
　They　were　white　too；　and　blind。　〃Who　are　you？〃　the　door　asked；　and　the　well　whispered；　〃Who…who…who…who…who…whowho。〃
　〃I　am　the　sword　in　the　darkness；〃　Samwell　Tarly　said。　〃I　am　the　watcher　on　the　walls。　I　am　the　fire　that　burns　against　the　cold；　the　light　that　brings　the　dawn；　the　hom　that　wakes　the　sleepers。　I　am　the　shield　that　guards　the　realms　of　men。〃
　〃Then　pass；〃　the　door　said。　its　lips　opened；　wide　and　wider　and　wider　still；　until　nothing　at　all　remained　but　a　great　gaping　mouth　in　a　ring　of　wrinkles。　Sam　stepped　aside　and　waved　Jojen　through　ahead　of　him。　Summer　followed；　sniffing　as　he　went；　and　then　it　was　Bran's　turn。　Hodor　ducked；　but　not　low　enough。　The　door's　upper　lip　brushed　softly　against　the　top　of　Bran's　head；　and　a　drop　of　water　fell　on　him　and　ran　slowly　down　his　nose。　It　was　strangely　warm；　and　salty　as　a　tear。
　
　CHAPTER　57
　DAENERYS
　
　Meereen　was　as　large　as　Astapor　and　Yunkai　bined。　Like　her　sister　cities　she　was　built　of　brick；　but　where　Astapor　had　been　red　and　Yunkai　yellow；　Meereen　was　made　with　bricks　of　many　colors。　Her　walls　were　higher　than　Yunkai's　and　in　better　repair；　studded　with　bastions　and　anchored　by　great　defensive　towers　at　every　angle。　Behind　them；　huge　against　the　sky；　could　be　seen　the　top　of　the　Great　Pyramid；　a　monstrous　thing　eight　hundred　feet　tall　with　a　towering　bronze　harpy　at　its　top。
　〃The　harpy　is　a　craven　thing；〃　Daario　Naharis　said　when　he　saw　it。　〃She　has　a　woman's　heart　and　a　chicken's　legs。　Small　wonder　her　sons　hide　behind　their　walls。〃
　But　the　hero　did　not　hide。　He　rode　out　the　city　gates；　armored　in　scales　of　copper　and　jet　and　mounted　upon　a　white　charger　whose　striped　pink…and…white　barding　matched　the　silk　cloak　flowing　from　the　hero's　shoulders。　The　lance　he　bore　was　fourteen　feet　long；　swirled　in　pink　and　white；　and　his　hair　was　shaped　and　teased　and　lacquered　into　two　great　curling　ram's　horns。　Back　and　forth　he　rode　beneath　the　walls　of　multicolored　bricks；　challenging　the　besiegers　to　send　a　champion　forth　to　meet　him　in　single　bat。
　Her　bloodriders　were　in　such　a　fever　to　go　meet　him　that　they　almost　came　to　blows。　〃Blood　of　my　blood；〃　Dany　told　them；　〃your　place　is　here　by　me。　This　man　is　a　buzzing　fly；　no　more。　Ignore　him；　he　will　soon　be　gone。〃　Aggo；　Jhogo；　and　Rakharo　were　brave　warriors；　but　they　were　young；　and　too　valuable　to　risk。　They　kept　her　khalasar　together；　and　were　her　best　scouts　too。
　〃That　was　wisely　done；〃　Ser　Jorah　said　as　they　watched　from　the　front　of　her　pavilion。　〃Let　the　fool　ride　back　and　forth　and　shout　until　his　horse　goes　lame。　He　does　us　no　harm。〃
　〃He　does；〃　Arstan　Whitebeard　insisted。　〃Wars　are　not　won　with　swords　and　spears　alone；　ser。　Two　hosts　of　equal　strength　may　e　together；　but　one　will　break　and　run　whilst　the　other　stands。　This　hero　builds　courage　in　the　hearts　of　his　own　men　and　plants　the　seeds　of　doubt　in　ours。〃
　Ser　Jorah　snorted。　〃And　if　our　champion　were　to　lose；　what　sort　of　seed　would　that　plant？〃
　〃A　man　who　fears　battle　wins　no　victories；　ser。〃
　〃We're　not　speaking　of　battle。　Meereen's　gates　will　not　open　if　that　fool　falls。　Why　risk　a　life　for　naught？〃
　〃For　honor；　I　would　say。〃
　〃I　have　heard　enough。〃　Dany　did　not　need　their　squabbling　on　top　of　all　the　other　troubles　that　plagued　her。　Meereen　posed　dangers　far　more　serious　than　one　pink…and…white　hero　shouting　insults；　and　she　could　not　let　herself　be　distracted。　Her　host　numbered　more　than　eighty　thousand　after　Yunkai；　but　fewer　than　a　quarter　of　them　were　soldiers。　The　rest　。　。　。　well；　Ser　Jorah　called　them　mouths　with　feet；　and　soon　they　would　be　starving。
　The　Great　Masters　of　Meereen　had　withdrawn　before　Dany's　advance；　harvesting　all　they　could　and　burning　what　they　could　not　harvest。　Scorched　fields　and　poisoned　wells　had　greeted　her　at　every　hand。　Worst　of　all；　they　had　nailed　a　slave　child　up　on　every　milepost　along　the　coast　road　from　Yunkai；　nailed　them　up　still　living　with　their　entrails　hanging　out　and　one　arm　always　outstretched　to　point　the　way　to　Meereen。　Leading　her　van；　Daario　had　given　orders　for　the　children　to　be　taken　down　before　Dany　had　to　see　them；　but　she　had　countermanded　him　as　soon　as　she　was　told。　〃I　will　see　them；〃　she　said。　〃I　will　see　every　one；　and　count　them；　and　look　upon　their　faces。　And　I　will　remember。〃
　By　the　time　they　came　to　Meereen　sitting　on　the　salt　coast　beside　her　river；　the　count　stood　at　one　hundred　and　sixty…three。　I　will　have　this　city；　Dany　pledged　to　herself　once　more。
　The　pink…and…white　hero　taunted　the　besiegers　for　an　hour；　mocking　their　manhood；　mothers；　wives；　and　gods。　Meereen's　defenders　cheered　him　on　from　the　city　walls。　〃His　name　is　Oznak　zo　Pahl；〃　Brown　Ben　Plumm　told　her　when　he　arrived　for　the　war　council。　He　was　the　new　mander　of　the　Second　Sons；　chosen　by　a　vote　of　his　fellow　sellswords。　〃I　was　bodyguard　to　his　uncle　once；　before　I　joined　the　Second　Sons。　The　Great　Masters；　what　a　ripe　lot　o'　maggots。　The　women　weren't　so　bad；　though　it　was　worth　your　life　to　look　at　the　wrong　one　the　wrong　way。　I　knew　a　man；　Scarb；　this　Oznak　cut　his　liver　out。　Claimed　to　be　defending　a　lady's　honor；　he　did；　said　Scarb　had　raped　her　with　his　eyes。　How　do　you　rape　a　wench　with　eyes；　I　ask　you？　But　his　uncle　is　the　richest　man　in　Meereen　and　his　father　mands　the　city　guard；　so　I　had　to　run　like　a　rat　before　he　killed　me　too。〃
　They　watched　Oznak　zo　Pahl　dismount　his　white　charger；　undo　his　robes；　pull　out　his　manhood；　and　direct　a　stream　of　urine　in　the　general　direction　of　the　olive　grove　where　Dany's　gold　pavilion　stood　among　the　burnt　trees。　He　was　still　pissing　when　Daario　Naharis　rode　up；　alakh　in　hand。　〃Shall　I　cut　that　off　for　you　and　stuff　it　down　his　mouth；　Your　Grace？〃　His　tooth　shone　gold　amidst　the　blue　of　his　forked　beard。
　〃It's　his　city　I　want；　not　his　meager　manhood。〃　She　was　growing　angry；　however。　If　I　ignore　this　any　longer；　my　own　people　will　think　me　weak。　Yet　who　could　she　send？　She　needed　Daario　as　much　as　she　did　her　bloodriders。　Without　the　flamboyant　Tyroshi；　she　had　no　hold　on　the　Stormcrows；　many　of　whom　had　been　followers　of　Prendahl　na　Ghezn　and　Sallor　the　Bald。
　High　on　the　walls　of　Meereen；　the　jeers　had　grown　louder；　and　now　hundreds　of　the　defenders　were　taking　their　lead　from　the　hero　and　pissing　down　through　the　ramparts　to　show　their　contempt　for　the　besiegers。　They　are　pissing　on　slaves；　to　show　how　little　they　fear　us；　she　thought。　They　would　never　dare　such　a　thing　if　it　were　a　Dothraki　khalasar　outside　their　gates。
　〃This　challenge　must　be　met；〃　Arstan　said　again。
　〃It　will　be。〃　Dany　said；　as　the　hero　tucked　his　penis　away　again。　〃Tell　Strong　Belwas　I　have　need　of　him。〃
　They　found　the　huge　brown　eunuch　sitting　in　the　shade　of　her　pavilion；　eating　a　sausage。　He　finished　it　in　three　bites；　wiped　his　greasy　hands　clean　on　his　trousers；　and　sent　Arstan　Whitebeard　to　fetch　him　his　steel。　The　aged　squire　honed　Belwas's　arakh　every　evening　and　rubbed　it　down　with　bright　red　oil。
　When　Whitebeard　brought　the　sword；　Strong　Belwas　squinted　down　the　edge；　grunted；　slid　the　blade　back　into　its　leather　sheath；　and　tied　the　swordbelt　about　his　vast　waist。　Arstan　had　brought　his　shield　as　well：　a　round　steel　disk　no　larger　than　a　pie　plate；　which　the　eunuch　grasped　with　his　off　hand　rather　than　strapping　to　his　forearm　in　the　manner　of　Westeros。　〃Find　liver　and　onions；　Whitebeard；〃　Belwas　said。　〃Not　for　now；　for　after。　Killing　makes　Strong　Belwas　hungry。〃　He　did　not　wait　for　a　reply；　but　lumbered　from　the　olive　grove　toward　Oznak　zo　Pahl。
　〃Why　that　one；　Khaleesi？〃　Rakharo　demanded　of　her。　〃He　is　fat　and　stupid。〃
　〃Strong　Belwas　was　a　slave　here　in　the　fighting　pits。　If　this　highborn　Oznak　should　fall　to　such　the　Great　Masters　will　be　shamed；　while　if　he　wins　。　。　。　well；　it　is　a　poor　victory　for　one　so　noble；　one　that　Meereen　can　take　no　pride　in。〃　And　unlike　Ser　Jorah；　Daario；　Brown　Ben；　and　her　three　bloodriders；　the　eunuch　did　not　lead　troops；　plan　battles；　or　give　her　counsel。　He　does　nothing　but　eat　and　boast　and　bellow　at　Arstan。　Belwas　was　the　man　she　could　most　easily　spare。　And　it　was　time　she　learned　what　sort　of　protector　Magister　Illyrio　had　sent　her。
　A　thrum　of　excitement　went　through　the　siege　lines　when　Belwas　was　seen　plodding　toward　the　city；　and　from　the　walls　and　towers　of　Meereen　came　shouts　and　jeers。　Oznak　zo　Pahl　mounted　up　again；　and　waited；　his　striped　lance　held　upright。　The　charger　tossed　his　head　impatiently　and　pawed　the　sandy