grrm.astormofswords-第28节

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　Deer；　and　fear；　and　blood。　The　scent　of　prey　woke　the　hunger　in　him。　The　prince　sniffed　the　air　again；　turning；　and　then　he　was　off；　bounding　along　the　ridgetop　with　jaws　half…parted。　The　far　side　of　the　ridge　was　steeper　than　the　one　he'd　e　up；　but　he　flew　surefoot　over　stones　and　roots　and　rotting　leaves；　down　the　slope　and　through　the　trees；　long　strides　eating　up　the　ground。　The　scent　pulled　him　onward；　ever　faster。
　The　deer　was　down　and　dying　when　he　reached　her；　ringed　by　eight　of　his　small　grey　cousins。　The　heads　of　the　pack　had　begun　to　feed；　the　male　first　and　then　his　female；　taking　turns　tearing　flesh　from　the　red　underbelly　of　their　prey。　The　others　waited　patiently；　all　but　the　tail；　who　paced　in　a　wary　circle　a　few　strides　from　the　rest；　his　own　tail　tucked　low。　He　would　eat　the　last　of　all；　whatever　his　brothers　left　him。
　The　prince　was　downwind；　so　they　did　not　sense　him　until　he　leapt　up　upon　a　fallen　log　six　strides　from　where　they　fed。　The　tail　saw　him　first；　gave　a　piteous　whine；　and　slunk　away。　His　pack　brothers　turned　at　the　sound　and　bared　their　teeth；　snarling；　all　but　the　head　male　and　female。
　The　direwolf　answered　the　snarls　with　a　low　warning　growl　and　showed　them　his　own　teeth。　He　was　bigger　than　his　cousins；　twice　the　size　of　the　scrawny　tail；　half　again　as　large　as　the　two　pack　heads。　He　leapt　down　into　their　midst；　and　three　of　them　broke；　melting　away　into　the　brush。
　Another　came　at　him；　teeth　snapping。　He　met　the　attack　head　on；　caught　the　wolf's　leg　in　his　jaws　when　they　met；　and　flung　him　aside　yelping　and　limping。
　And　then　there　was　only　the　head　wolf　to　face；　the　great　grey　male　with　his　bloody　muzzle　fresh　from　the　prey's　soft　belly。　There　was　white　on　his　muzzle　as　well；　to　mark　him　as　an　old　wolf；　but　when　his　mouth　opened；　red　slaver　ran　from　his　teeth。
　He　has　no　fear；　the　prince　thought；　no　more　than　me。　It　would　be　a　good　fight。　They　went　for　each　other。
　Long　they　fought；　rolling　together　over　roots　and　stones　and　fallen　leaves　and　the　scattered　entrails　of　the　prey；　tearing　at　each　other　with　tooth　and　claw；　breaking　apart；　circling　each　round　the　other；　and　bolting　in　to　fight　again。　The　prince　was　larger；　and　much　the　stronger；　but　his　cousin　had　a　pack。　The　female　prowled　around　them　closely；　snuffing　and　snarling；　and　would　interpose　herself　whenever　her　mate　broke　off　bloodied。　From　time　to　time　the　other　wolves　would　dart　in　as　well；　to　snap　at　a　leg　or　an　ear　when　the　prince　was　turned　the　other　way。　One　angered　him　so　much　that　he　whirled　in　a　black　fury　and　tore　out　the　attacker's　throat。　After　that　the　others　kept　their　distance。
　And　as　the　last　red　light　was　filtering　through　green　boughs　and　golden；　the　old　wolf　lay　down　weary　in　the　dirt；　and　rolled　over　to　expose　his　throat　and　belly。　it　was　submission。
　The　prince　sniffed　at　him　and　licked　the　blood　from　fur　and　tom　flesh。　When　the　old　wolf　gave　a　soft　whimper；　the　direwolf　turned　away。　He　was　very　hungry　now；　and　the　prey　was　his。
　〃Hodor。〃
　The　sudden　sound　made　him　stop　and　snarl。　The　wolves　regarded　him　with　green　and　yellow　eyes；　bright　with　the　last　light　of　day。　None　of　them　had　heard　it。　It　was　a　queer　wind　that　blew　only　in　his　ears。　He　buried　his　jaws　in　the　deer's　belly　and　tore　off　a　mouthful　of　flesh。
　〃Hodor；　hodor。〃
　No；　he　thought。　No；　I　won't。　It　was　a　boy's　thought；　not　a　direwolf's。　The　woods　were　darkening　all　about　him；　until　only　the　shadows　of　the　trees　remained；　and　the　glow　of　his　cousins'　eyes。　And　through　those　and　behind　those　eyes；　he　saw　a　big　man's　grinning　face；　and　a　stone　vault　whose　walls　were　spotted　with　niter。　The　rich　warm　taste　of　blood　faded　on　his　tongue。　No；　don't；　don't；　I　want　to　eat；　I　want　to；　I　want　。　。　。
　〃Hodor；　hodor；　hodor；　hodor；　hodor；〃　Hodor　chanted　as　he　shook　him　softly　by　the　shoulders；　back　and　forth　and　back　and　forth。　He　was　trying　to　be　gentle；　he　always　tried；　but　Hodor　was　seven　feet　tall　and　stronger　than　he　knew；　and　his　huge　hands　rattled　Bran's　teeth　together。　〃NOP　he　shouted　angrily。　〃Hodor；　leave　off；　I'm　here；　I'm　here。〃
　Hodor　stopped；　looking　abashed。　〃Hodor？〃
　The　woods　and　wolves　were　gone。　Bran　was　back　again；　down　in　the　damp　vault　of　some　ancient　watchtower　that　must　have　been　abandoned　thousands　of　years　before。　It　wasn't　much　of　a　tower　now。　Even　the　tumbled　stones　were　so　overgrown　with　moss　and　ivy　that　you　could　hardly　see　them　until　you　were　right　on　top　of　them。　〃Tumbledown　Tower〃；　Bran　had　named　the　place；　it　was　Meera　who　found　the　way　down　into　the　vault；　however。
　〃You　were　gone　too　long。〃　Jojen　Reed　was　thirteen；　only　four　years　older　than　Bran。　Jojen　wasn't　much　bigger　either；　no　more　than　two　inches　or　maybe　three；　but　he　had　a　solemn　way　of　talking　that　made　him　seem　older　and　wiser　than　he　really　was。　At　Winterfell；　Old　Nan　had　dubbed　him　〃little　grandfather。〃
　Bran　frowned　at　him。　〃I　wanted　to　eat。〃
　〃Meera　will　be　back　soon　with　supper。〃
　〃I'm　sick　of　frogs。〃　Meera　was　a　frogeater　from　the　Neck；　so　Bran　couldn't　really　blame　her　for　catching　so　many　frogs；　he　supposed；　but　even　so　。　。　。　〃I　wanted　to　eat　the　deer。〃　For　a　moment　he　remembered　the　taste　of　it；　the　blood　and　the　raw　rich　meat；　and　his　mouth　watered。　I　won　the　fight　for　it。　I　won。
　〃Did　you　mark　the　trees？〃
　Bran　flushed。　Jojen　was　always　telling　him　to　do　things　when　he　opened　his　third　eye　and　put　on　Summer's　skin。　To　claw　the　bark　of　a　tree；　to　catch　a　rabbit　and　bring　it　back　in　his　jaws　uneaten；　to　push　some　rocks　in　a　line。　Stupid　things。　〃I　forgot；〃　he　said。
　〃You　always　forget。〃
　It　was　true。　He　meant　to　do　the　things　that　Jojen　asked；　but　once　he　was　a　wolf　they　never　seemed　important。　There　were　always　things　to　see　and　things　to　smell；　a　whole　green　world　to　hunt。　And　he　could　run！　There　was　nothing　better　than　running；　unless　it　was　running　after　prey。　〃I　was　a　prince；　Jojen；〃　he　told　the　older　boy。　〃I　was　the　prince　of　the　woods。〃
　〃You　are　a　prince；〃　Jojen　reminded　him　softly。　〃You　remember；　don't　you？　Tell　me　who　you　are。〃
　〃You　know〃　Jojen　was　his　friend　and　his　teacher；　but　sometimes　Bran　just　wanted　to　hit　him。
　〃I　want　you　to　say　the　words。　Tell　me　who　you　are。〃
　〃Bran；〃　he　said　sullenly。　Bran　the　Broken。　〃Brandon　Stark。〃　The　cripple　boy。　〃The　Prince　of　Winterfell。〃　Of　Winterfell　burned　and　tumbled；　its　people　scattered　and　slain。　The　glass　gardens　were　smashed；　and　hot　water　gushed　from　the　cracked　walls　to　steam　beneath　the　sun。　How　can　you　be　the　prince　of　someplace　you　might　never　see　again？
　〃And　who　is　Summer？〃　Jojen　prompted。
　〃My　direwolf。〃　He　smiled。　〃Prince　of　the　green。〃
　〃Bran　the　boy　and　Summer　the　wolf。　You　are　two；　then？〃
　〃Two；〃　he　sighed；　〃and　one。〃　He　hated　Jojen　when　he　got　stupid　like　this。　At　Winterfell　he　wanted　me　to　dream　my　wolf　dreams；　and　now　that　I　know　how　he's　always　calling　me　back。
　〃Remember　that；　Bran。　Remember　yourself；　or　the　wolf　will　consume　you。　When　you　join；　it　is　not　enough　to　run　and　hunt　and　howl　in　Summer's　skin。〃
　It　is　for　me；　Bran　thought。　He　liked　Summer's　skin　better　than　his　own。　What　good　is　it　to　be　a　skinchanger　if　you　can't　wear　the　skin　you　like？
　〃Will　you　remember？　And　next　time；　mark　the　tree。　Any　tree；　it　doesn't　matter；　so　long　as　you　do　it。〃
　〃I　will。　I'll　remember。　I　could　go　back　and　do　it　now；　if　you　like。　I　won't　forget　this　time。〃　But　I'll　eat　my　deer　first；　and　fight　with　those　little　wolves　some　more。
　Jojen　shook　his　head。　〃No。　Best　stay；　and　eat。　With　your　own　mouth。　A　warg　cannot　live　on　what　his　beast　consumes。〃
　How　would　you　know？　Bran　thought　resentfully。　You've　never　been　a　warg；　you　don't　know　what　it's　like。
　Hodor　jerked　suddenly　to　his　feet；　almost　hitting　his　head　on　the　barrelvaulted　ceiling。　〃HODOR！〃　he　shouted；　rushing　to　the　door。　Meera　pushed　it　open　just　before　he　reached　it；　and　stepped　through　into　their　refuge。　〃Hodor；　hodor；〃　the　huge　stableboy　said；　grinning。
　Meera　Reed　was　sixteen；　a　woman　grown；　but　she　stood　no　higher　than　her　brother。　All　the　crannogmen　were　small；　she　told　Bran　once　when　he　asked　why　she　wasn't　taller。　Brown…haired；　green…eyed；　and　flat　as　a　boy；　she　walked　with　a　supple　grace　that　Bran　could　only　watch　and　envy。　Meera　wore　a　long　sharp　dagger；　but　her　favorite　way　to　fight　was　with　a　slender　three…pronged　frog　spear　in　one　hand　and　a　woven　net　in　the　other。
　〃Who's　hungry？〃　she　asked；　holding　up　her　catch：　two　small　silvery　trout　and　six　fat　green　frogs。
　〃I　am；〃　said　Bran。　But　not　for　frogs。　Back　at　Winterfell　before　all　the　bad　things　had　happened；　the　Walders　used　to　say　that　eating　frogs　would　turn　your　teeth　green　and　make　moss　grow　under　your　arms。　He　wondered　if　the　Walders　were　dead。　He　hadn't　seen　their　corpses　at　Winterfell　。　。　。　but　there　had　been　a　lot　of　corpses；　and　they　hadn't　looked　inside　the　buildings。
　〃We'll　just　have　to　feed　you；　then。　Will　you　help　me　clean　the　catch；　Bran？〃
　He　nodded。　It　was　hard　to　sulk　with　Meera。　She　was　much　more　cheerful　than　her　brother；　and　always　seemed　to　know　how　to　make　him　smile。　Nothing　ever　scared　her　or　made　her　angry。　Well；　except　Jojen；　sometimes　。　。　。　Joien　Reed　could　scare　most　anyone。　He　dressed　all　in　green；　his　eyes　were　murky　as　moss；　and　he　had　green　dreams。　What　Jojen　dreamed　came