grrm.astormofswords-第4节

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e　in　close　pany　with　Mance　Rayder　himself。　Elsewhere　their　fighters　will　be　spread　thin　along　the　line　of　march。　They　have　oxen；　mules；　horses　。　。　。　but　few　enough。　Most　will　be　afoot；　and　ill…armed　and　untrained。　Such　weapons　as　they　carry　are　more　like　to　be　stone　and　bone　than　steel。　They　are　burdened　with　women；　children；　herds　of　sheep　and　goats；　and　all　their　worldly　goods　besides。　In　short；　though　they　are　numerous；　they　are　vulnerable　。　。　。　and　they　do　not　know　that　we　are　here。　Or　so　we　must　pray。〃
　They　know；　thought　Chett。　You　bloody　old　pus　bag；　they　know；　certain　as　sunrise。　Qhorin　Halfhand　hasn't　e　back；　has　he？　Nor　Jarman　Buckwell。　lf　any　of　them　got　caught；　you　know　damned　well　the　wildlings　will　have　wrung　a　song　or　two　out　of　them　by　now　Smallwood　stepped　forward。　〃Mance　Rayder　means　to　break　the　Wall　and　bring　red　war　to　the　Seven　Kingdoms。　Well；　that's　a　game　two　can　play。　On　the　morrow　we'll　bring　the　war　to　him。〃
　〃We　ride　at　dawn　with　all　our　strength；〃　the　Old　Bear　said　as　a　murmur　went　through　the　assembly。　〃We　will　ride　north；　and　loop　around　to　the　west。　Harma's　van　will　be　well　past　the　Fist　by　the　time　we　turn。　The　foothills　of　the　Frostfangs　are　full　of　narrow　winding　valleys　made　for　ambush。　Their　line　of　march　will　stretch　for　many　miles。　We　shall　fall　on　them　in　several　places　at　once；　and　make　them　swear　we　were　three　thousand；　not　three　hundred。〃
　〃We'll　hit　hard　and　be　away　before　their　horsemen　can　form　up　to　face　us；〃　Thoren　Smallwood　said。　〃If　they　pursue；　we'll　lead　them　a　merry　chase；　then　wheel　and　hit　again　farther　down　the　column。　We'll　burn　their　wagons；　scatter　their　herds；　and　slay　as　many　as　we　can。　Mance　Rayder　himself；　if　we　find　him。　If　they　break　and　return　to　their　hovels；　we've　won。　If　not；　we'll　harry　them　all　the　way　to　the　Wall；　and　see　to　it　that　they　leave　a　trail　of　corpses　to　mark　their　progress。〃
　〃There　are　thousands；〃　someone　called　from　behind　Chett。
　〃We'll　die。〃　That　was　Maslyn's　voice；　green　with　fear。
　〃Die；〃　screamed　Mormont's　raven；　flapping　its　black　wings。　〃Die；　die；　die。〃
　〃Many　of　us；〃　the　Old　Bear　said。　〃Mayhaps　even　all　of　us。　But　as　another　Lord　mander　said　a　thousand　years　ago；　that　is　why　they　dress　us　in　black。　Remember　your　words；　brothers。　For　we　are　the　swords　in　the　darkness；　the　watchers　on　the　walls　。　。　。〃
　〃The　fire　that　burns　against　the　cold。〃　Ser　Mallador　Locke　drew　his　longsword。
　〃The　light　that　brings　the　dawn；〃　others　answered；　and　more　swords　were　pulled　from　scabbards。
　Then　all　of　them　were　drawing；　and　it　was　near　three　hundred　upraised　swords　and　as　many　voices　crying；　〃The　horn　that　wakes　the　sleepers！　The　shield　that　guards　the　realms　of　men！〃　Chett　had　no　choice　but　to　join　his　voice　to　the　others。　The　air　was　misty　with　their　breath；　and　firelight　glinted　off　the　steel。　He　was　pleased　to　see　Lark　and　Softfoot　and　Sweet　Donnel　Hill　joining　in；　as　if　they　were　as　big　fools　as　the　rest。　That　was　good。　No　sense　to　draw　attention；　when　their　hour　was　so　close。
　When　the　shouting　died　away；　once　more　he　heard　the　sound　of　the　wind　picking　at　the　ringwall。　The　flames　swirled　and　shivered；　as　if　they　too　were　cold；　and　in　the　sudden　quiet　the　Old　Bear's　raven　cawed　loudly　and　once　again　said；　〃Die。〃
　Clever　bird；　thought　Chett　as　the　officers　dismissed　them；　warning　everyone　to　get　a　good　meal　and　a　long　rest　tonight。　Chett　crawled　under　his　furs　near　the　dogs；　his　head　full　of　things　that　could　go　wrong。　What　if　that　bloody　oath　gave　one　of　his　a　change　of　heart？　Or　Small　Paul　forgot　and　tried　to　kill　Mormont　during　the　second　watch　in　place　of　the　third？　Or　Maslyn　lost　his　courage；　or　someone　turned　informer；　or　。　。　。
　He　found　himself　listening　to　the　night。　The　wind　did　sound　like　a　wailing　child；　and　from　time　to　time　he　could　hear　men's　voices；　a　horse's　whinny；　a　log　spitting　in　the　fire。　But　nothing　else。　So　quiet。
　He　could　see　Bessa's　face　floating　before　him。　It　wasn't　the　knife　I　wanted　to　put　in　you；　he　wanted　to　tell　her。　I　picked　you　flowers；　wild　roses　and　tansy　and　goldencups；　it　took　me　all　morning。　His　heart　was　thumping　like　a　drum；　so　loud　he　feared　it　might　wake　the　camp。　Ice　caked　his　beard　all　around　his　mouth。　Where　did　that　e　from；　with　Bessa？　Whenever　he'd　thought　of　her　before；　it　had　only　been　to　remember　the　way　she'd　looked；　dying。　What　was　wrong　with　him？　He　could　hardly　breathe。　Had　he　gone　to　sleep？　He　got　to　his　knees；　and　something　wet　and　cold　touched　his　nose。　Chett　looked　up。
　Snow　was　falling。
　He　could　feel　tears　freezing　to　his　cheeks。　It　isn't　fair；　he　wanted　to　scream。　Snow　would　ruin　everything　he'd　worked　for；　all　his　careful　plans。　It　was　a　heavy　fall；　thick　white　flakes　ing　down　all　about　him。　How　would　they　find　their　food　caches　in　the　snow；　or　the　game　trail　they　meant　to　follow　east？　They　won't　need　Dywen　nor　Bannen　to　hunt　us　down　neither；　not　if　we're　tracking　through　fresh　snow　And　snow　hid　the　shape　of　the　ground；　especially　by　night。　A　horse　could　stumble　over　a　root；　break　a　leg　on　a　stone。　We're　done；　he　realized。　Done　before　we　began。　We're　lost。　There'd　be　no　lord's　life　for　the　leechman's　son；　no　keep　to　call　his　own；　no　wives　nor　crowns。　Only　a　wildling's　sword　in　his　belly；　and　then　an　unmarked　grave。　The　snow's　taken　it　all　from　me　。　。　。　the　bloody　snow　。　。　。
　Snow　had　ruined　him　once　before。　Snow　and　his　pet　pig。
　Chett　got　to　his　feet。　His　legs　were　stiff；　and　the　falling　snowflakes　turned　the　distant　torches　to　vague　orange　glows。　He　felt　as　though　he　were　being　attacked　by　a　cloud　of　pale　cold　bugs。　They　settled　on　his　shoulders；　on　his　head；　they　flew　at　his　nose　and　his　eyes。　Cursing；　he　brushed　them　off。　Samwell　Tarly；　he　remembered。　I　can　still　deal　with　Ser　Piggy。　He　wrapped　his　scarf　around　his　face；　pulled　up　his　hood；　and　went　striding　through　the　camp　to　where　the　coward　slept。
　The　snow　was　falling　so　heavily　that　he　got　lost　among　the　tents；　but　finally　he　spotted　the　snug　little　windbreak　the　fat　boy　had　made　for　himself　between　a　rock　and　the　raven　cages。　Tarly　was　buried　beneath　a　mound　of　black　wool　blankets　and　shaggy　furs。　The　snow　was　drifting　in　to　cover　him。　He　looked　like　some　kind　of　soft　round　mountain。　Steel　whispered　on　leather　faint　as　hope　as　Chett　eased　his　dagger　from　its　sheath。　One　of　the　ravens　quorked。　〃Snow；〃　another　muttered；　peering　through　the　bars　with　black　eyes。　The　first　added　a　〃Snow〃　of　its　own。　He　edged　past　them；　placing　each　foot　carefully。　He　would　clap　his　left　hand　down　over　the　fat　boy's　mouth　to　muffle　his　cries；　and　then　。　。　。
　Uuuuuuuhoooooooooo。
　He　stopped　midstep；　swallowing　his　curse　as　the　sound　of　the　horn　shuddered　through　the　camp；　faint　and　far；　yet　unmistakable。　Not　now　Gods　be　damned；　not　NOW！　The　Old　Bear　had　hidden　far…eyes　in　a　ring　of　trees　around　the　Fist；　to　give　warning　of　any　approach。　Jarman　Buckwell's　back　from　the　Giant's　Stair；　Chett　figured；　or　Qhorin　Halfhand　from　the　Skirling　Pass。　A　single　blast　of　the　horn　meant　brothers　returning。　If　it　was　the　Halfhand；　Jon　Snow　might　be　with　him；　alive。
　Sam　Tarly　sat　up　puffy…eyed　and　stared　at　the　snow　in　confusion。　The　ravens　were　cawing　noisily；　and　Chett　could　hear　his　dogs　baying。　Half　the　bloody　camp's　awake。　His　gloved　fingers　clenched　around　the　dagger's　hilt　as　he　waited　for　the　sound　to　die　away。　But　no　sooner　had　it　gone　than　it　came　again；　louder　and　longer。
　Uuuuuuuuuuuuhooooooooooooooo。
　〃Gods；〃　he　heard　Sam　Tarly　whimper。　The　fat　boy　lurched　to　his　knees；　his　feet　tangled　in　his　cloak　and　blankets。　He　kicked　them　away　and　reached　for　a　chain…mail　hauberk　he'd　hung　on　the　rock　nearby。　As　he　slipped　the　huge　tent　of　a　garment　down　over　his　head　and　wriggled　into　it；　he　spied　Chett　standing　there。　〃Was　it　two？〃　he　asked。　〃I　dreamed　I　heard　two　blasts　。　。　。〃
　〃No　dream；〃　said　Chett。　〃Two　blasts　to　call　the　Watch　to　arms。　Two　blasts　for　foes　approaching。　There's　an　axe　out　there　with　Piggy　writ　on　it；　fat　boy。　Two　blasts　means　wildlings。　〃The　fear　on　that　big　moon　face　made　him　want　to　laugh。　〃Bugger　them　all　to　seven　hells。　Bloody　Harma。　Bloody　Mance　Rayder。　Bloody　Smallwood；　he　said　they　wouldn't　be　on　us　for　another…〃
　Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhooooooooooooooooooooooooo。
　The　sound　went　on　and　on　and　on；　until　it　seemed　it　would　never　die。　The　ravens　were　flapping　and　screaming；　flying　about　their　cages　and　banging　off　the　bars；　and　all　about　the　camp　the　brothers　of　the　Night's　Watch　were　rising；　donning　their　armor；　buckling　on　swordbelts；　reaching　for　battleaxes　and　bows。　Samwell　Tarly　stood　shaking；　his　face　the　same　color　as　the　snow　that　swirled　down　all　around　them。　〃Three；〃　he　squeaked　to　Chett；　〃that　was　three；　I　heard　three。　They　never　blow　three。　Not　for　hundreds　and　thousands　of　years。　Three　means…〃
　〃…Others。〃　Chett　made　a　sound　that　was　half　a　laugh　and　half　a　sob；　and　suddenly　his　smallclothes　were　wet；　and　he　could　feel　the　piss　running　down　his　leg；　see　steam　rising　off　the　front　of　his　breeches。
　
　CHAPTER　1
　JAIME
　
　An　east　wind　blew　through　his　tangled　hair；　as　soft　and　fragrant　as　Cersei's　fingers。　He　could　hear　birds　singing；　and　feel　the　river　moving　beneath　the　boat　as　the　sweep　of　the　oars　sent　them　toward　the　pale　pink　dawn。　After　so　long　in　darkness；　the　world　was