Ⅲ 冰雨的风暴 Chapter33 山姆威尔

SAMWELL

阁楼上女人在吵吵闹闹地生孩子，下面火盆旁男人奄奄一息。山姆威尔·塔利说不准哪一样更让他害怕。

Up in the loft a woman was giving birth noisily, while below a man lay dying by the fire. Samwell Tarly could not say which frightened him more.

他们为可怜的巴棱盖了一堆毛皮，并把火生得旺旺的，可他仍只会说：“冷，帮帮我，好冷。”山姆喂他洋葱汤，但他吞不下，勺子灌得有多快，嘴唇漏出来就有多快，汤汁顺着下巴滴落。

They’d covered poor Bannen with a pile of furs and stoked the fire high, yet all he could say was, “I’m cold. Please. I’m so cold.” Sam was trying to feed him onion broth, but he could not swallow. The broth dribbled over his lips and down his chin as fast as Sam could spoon it in.

“这家伙死定了。”卡斯特边咬香肠，边冷漠地看了巴棱一眼，“问我的话，给他一刀比灌汤来得仁慈。”

“That one’s dead.” Craster eyed the man with indifference as he worried at a sausage. “Be kinder to stick a knife in his chest than that spoon down his throat, you ask me.”

“我们没问你。”巨人身高不过五尺——他真名贝德威克——但性情暴躁，“杀手，你问过卡斯特吗？”

“I don’t recall as we did.” Giant was no more than five feet tall—his true name was Bedwyck—but a fierce little man for all that. “Slayer, did you ask Craster for his counsel?”

被他点名，山姆不由得缩了缩，一边拼命摇头。他又舀起满满一勺，送到巴棱嘴边，试图从唇间小心翼翼地灌进去。

Sam cringed at the name, but shook his head. He filled another spoon, brought it to Bannen’s mouth, and tried to ease it between his lips.

“食物与火，”巨人说，“我们只问你要这个。而你连吃的都不给。”

“Food and fire,” Giant was saying, “that was all we asked of you. And you grudge us the food.”

“我没有拒绝给火，你就应该满足了。”卡斯特生得粗壮，而他身上的羊皮背心使他看上去更加凶悍——他整日整夜穿着这件臭烘烘的破烂东西。他长着扁平的鼻子，下垂的嘴唇，还缺了一只耳朵，乱蓬蓬的头发和纠结的胡须正由灰转白，但那双疙疙瘩瘩的手仍强壮有力。“我已尽力喂饱你们了，是你们这帮乌鸦自己贪嘴。怎么说，我也是个敬神的人，否则早把你们赶走了。你以为咱想要他这种家伙死在咱家地板上？你以为咱想多出来这许多嘴巴，矮子？”野人啐了一口。“乌鸦，黑色的鸟儿，能带来什么好事，嗯？从来没有。从来没有。”

“Be glad I didn’t grudge you fire too.” Craster was a thick man made thicker by the ragged smelly sheepskins he wore day and night. He had a broad flat nose, a mouth that drooped to one side, and a missing ear. And though his matted hair and tangled beard might be grey going white, his hard knuckly hands still looked strong enough to hurt. “I fed you what I could, but you crows are always hungry. I’m a godly man, else I would have chased you off. You think I need the likes of him, dying on my floor? You think I need all your mouths, little man?” The wildling spat. “Crows. When did a black bird ever bring good to a man’s hall, I ask you? Never. Never.”

更多汤汁从巴棱嘴角流出，山姆用衣袖替他擦，对方则眼神涣散地回瞪。“冷，”他又虚弱地说。学士也许知道如何救他，但我们没有学士。九天前，白眼肯基砍了巴棱毁伤的脚，喷出的脓血让山姆恶心作呕，但那远远不够，而且也太迟。“好冷，”苍白的嘴唇重复。

More broth ran from the corner of Bannen’s mouth. Sam dabbed it away with a corner of his sleeve. The ranger’s eyes were open but unseeing. “I’m cold,” he said again, so faintly. A maester might have known how to save him, but they had no maester. Kedge Whiteye had taken Bannen’s mangled foot off nine days past, in a gout of pus and blood that made Sam sick, but it was too little, too late. “I’m so cold,” the pale lips repeated.

大厅里，二十余衣衫褴褛的黑衣弟兄散坐在地板或粗糙的长凳上，喝着同样稀薄的洋葱汤，啃吃块块硬面包。有几个伤势比巴棱更严重。佛尼奥已好几天昏迷不醒，拜延爵士肩上渗出恶臭的黄色脓水。离开黑城堡时，游骑兵黄伯纳带了几口袋密尔火、芥末膏、大蒜粉、艾菊、罂粟、铜板草及其他药材，甚至有甜睡花，可以赐人无痛苦的死亡。但黄伯纳死在先民拳峰，而没人想到拯救伊蒙学士的药品。作为厨师，哈克了解一些草药知识，但他也死了。因此只剩几个事务官来照料伤员，这是不够的。虽然这里干干燥燥，有火取暖，但他们还需要更多食物。

About the hall, a ragged score of black brothers squatted on the floor or sat on rough-hewn benches, drinking cups of the same thin onion broth and gnawing on chunks of hardbread. A couple were wounded worse than Bannen, to look at them. Fornio had been delirious for days, and Ser Byam’s shoulder was oozing a foul yellow pus. When they’d left Castle Black, Brown Bernarr had been carrying bags of Myrish fire, mustard salve, ground garlic, tansy, poppy, kingscopper, and other healing herbs. Even sweetsleep, which gave the gift of painless death. But Brown Bernarr had died on the Fist and no one had thought to search for Maester Aemon’s medicines. Hake had known some herblore as well, being a cook, but Hake was also lost. So it was left to the surviving stewards to do what they could for the wounded, which was little enough. At least they are dry here, with a fire to warm them. They need more food, though.

大家都需要更多食物。连续几天，人们都在抱怨。畸足卡尔反复宣称，卡斯特定有秘密地窖，总司令听不到时，旧镇的加尔斯也跟着附和。山姆想为伤员讨些有营养的东西，却没勇气开口。卡斯特的眼神冷酷又恶毒，每当他望向山姆，手都会微微抽动，仿佛随时准备捏成拳头。他知道上次路过，我和吉莉说话的事吗？他有没有揍她，逼她讲出来呢？

They all needed more food. The men had been grumbling for days. Clubfoot Karl kept saying how Craster had to have a hidden larder, and Garth of Oldtown had begun to echo him, when he was out of the Lord Commander’s hearing. Sam had thought of begging for something more nourishing for the wounded men at least, but he did not have the courage. Craster’s eyes were cold and mean, and whenever the wildling looked his way his hands twitched a little, as if they wanted to curl up into fists. Does he know I spoke to Gilly, the last time we were here? he wondered. Did she tell him I said we’d take her? Did he beat it out of her?

“冷，”巴棱说，“帮帮我，好冷。”

“I’m cold,” said Bannen. “Please. I’m cold.”

山姆自己也冷，尽管卡斯特的大厅里充满热气和烟雾。他更累，累得快散架了。他想睡，但每当闭上眼睛，就梦到大雪纷飞，死人摇摇晃晃地走来，黑色的手，明亮的蓝眼睛。

For all the heat and smoke in Craster’s hall, Sam felt cold himself. And tired, so tired. He needed sleep, but whenever he closed his eyes he dreamed of blowing snow and dead men shambling toward him with black hands and bright blue eyes.

阁楼上，吉莉发出一阵颤抖的哭泣，在低矮无窗的长厅里回荡。“用力，”他听见卡斯特一个较年长的老婆发话，“再使点劲。再使点劲。要喊就喊出来。”于是她开始尖叫，把山姆吓了一跳。

Up in the loft, Gilly let out a shuddering sob that echoed down the long low windowless hall. “Push,” he heard one of Craster’s older wives tell her. “Harder. Harder. Scream if it helps.” She did, so loud it made Sam wince.

卡斯特扭头怒目而视。“够了！”他朝楼上喊，“给她一块布咬着，否则我上来让她尝尝巴掌的滋味。”

Craster turned his head to glare. “I’ve had a bellyful o’ that shrieking,” he shouted up. “Give her a rag to bite down on, or I’ll come up there and give her a taste o’ my hand.”

山姆知道他不是开玩笑。卡斯特共有十九个老婆，可他踏上梯子的时候，她们中没一个敢反抗。就两天前的夜里，他狠狠揍过一个更年幼的女孩，黑衣弟兄同样没干预。当然，有人嘀嘀咕咕。“他会杀了她的，”格林纳威的加尔斯说，而畸足卡尔笑道，“他不想要这小甜心，给我啊。”黑伯纳低声怒骂，而罗斯比的阿兰起身出门，这样听不着声音。“他的屋檐下，他说了算，”游骑兵罗纳·哈克莱提醒大家，“卡斯特是咱守夜人的朋友。”

He would too, Sam knew. Craster had nineteen wives, but none who’d dare interfere once he started up that ladder. No more than the black brothers had two nights past, when he was beating one of the younger girls. There had been mutterings, to be sure. “He’s killing her,” Garth of Greenaway had said, and Clubfoot Karl laughed and said, “If he don’t want the little sweetmeat he could give her to me.” Black Bernarr cursed in a low angry voice, and Alan of Rosby got up and went outside so he wouldn’t have to hear. “His roof, his rule,” the ranger Ronnel Harclay had reminded them. “Craster’s a friend to the Watch.”

朋友，山姆一边想，一边听吉莉压抑的尖叫。卡斯特是个恶棍，无情地统治着他的老婆和女儿们，但他的堡垒对守夜人而言，却是难能可贵的避难所。就说这次，当经历了大雪、尸鬼与严寒而幸存的人们狼狈不堪地来到时，卡斯特虽然冷笑讥讽，“一群冻僵的乌鸦，还少了不少！”却依旧腾出地板，并提供遮挡风雪的屋檐和烤干身子的火盆，他老婆们还端来杯杯热葡萄酒，让大家暖肠胃。他称他们为“该死的乌鸦”，但也给些吃的，尽管不怎么可口。

A friend, thought Sam, as he listened to Gilly’s muffled shrieks. Craster was a brutal man who ruled his wives and daughters with an iron hand, but his keep was a refuge all the same. “Frozen crows,” Craster sneered when they straggled in, those few who had survived the snow, the wights, and the bitter cold. “And not so big a flock as went north, neither.” Yet he had given them space on his floor, a roof to keep the snow off, a fire to dry them out, and his wives had brought them cups of hot wine to put some warmth in their bellies. “Bloody crows,” he called them, but he’d fed them too, meager though the fare might be.

我们是客人，山姆提醒自己，他是主人。吉莉是他的女儿，他的老婆。他的屋檐下，他说了算。

We are guests, Sam reminded himself. Gilly is his. His daughter, his wife. His roof, his rule.

初到卡斯特堡垒时，吉莉前来求助，山姆便把自己的黑斗篷给她，好让她去找琼恩·雪诺时可以藏起肚子。誓言效命的骑士应该保护妇女和儿童，不是吗？虽然只有少数几个黑衣弟兄称得上骑士，但……我们都发过誓，山姆心想，我们是守护王国的坚盾。女人总是女人，就算女野人也一样。我们应该帮她，救她。吉莉担心的是孩子，她怕生男孩。卡斯特会把女儿抚养长大，弄来当老婆，但他的堡垒里既没成年男子也没小男孩。吉莉告诉琼恩，卡斯特将儿子奉献给神。诸神慈悲，给她一个女儿，山姆祈祷。

The first time he’d seen Craster’s Keep, Gilly had come begging for help, and Sam had lent her his black cloak to conceal her belly when she went to find Jon Snow. Knights are supposed to defend women and children. Only a few of the black brothers were knights, but even so … We all say the words, Sam thought. I am the shield that guards the realms of men. A woman was a woman, even a wildling woman. We should help her. We should. It was her child Gilly feared for; she was frightened that it might be a boy. Craster raised up his daughters to be his wives, but there were neither men nor boys to be seen about his compound. Gilly had told Jon that Craster gave his sons to the gods. If the gods are good, they will send her a daughter, Sam prayed.

阁楼上面，吉莉抑制住一声尖叫。“好了，”一个女人说，“再用力，快。哦，我看到他的脑袋了。”

Up in the loft, Gilly choked back a scream. “That’s it,” a woman said. “Another push, now. Oh, I see his head.”

她的，山姆痛苦地想，她的，她的。

Hers, Sam thought miserably. Her head, hers.

“冷，”巴棱虚弱地说，“帮帮我，好冷。”山姆放下碗勺，又替濒死的弟兄多盖一层毛皮，并往火盆中添木柴。吉莉惨叫一声，然后开始喘气。卡斯特啃着硬梆梆的黑香肠——香肠他留给自己和老婆们，守夜人没有份。“女人，”他抱怨，“就这副德行……还不及我从前那头肥母猪，一窝生八只，声都没吭。”他边嚼边转头轻蔑地斜视山姆，“它几乎跟你一样肥咧，小杀手。”说完哈哈大笑。

“Cold,” said Bannen, weakly. “Please. I’m so cold.” Sam put the bowl and spoon aside, tossed another fur across the dying man, put another stick on the fire. Gilly gave a shriek, and began to pant. Craster gnawed on his hard black sausage. He had sausages for himself and his wives, he said, but none for the Watch. “Women,” he complained. “The way they wail … I had me a fat sow once birthed a litter of eight with no more’n a grunt.” Chewing, he turned his head to squint contemptuously at Sam. “She was near as fat as you, boy. Slayer.” He laughed.

这太过分了，于是山姆蹒跚着离开火盆，笨拙地跨绕开硬泥地上或睡或坐或垂死的人群，朝外走去。烟雾、尖叫和呻吟让他晕眩，他低头掀起卡斯特用来当门的鹿皮，进到下午的天光中。

It was more than Sam could stand. He stumbled away from the firepit, stepping awkwardly over and around the men sleeping and squatting and dying upon the hard-packed earthen floor. The smoke and screams and moans were making him feel faint. Bending his head, he pushed through the hanging deerhide flaps that served Craster for a door and stepped out into the afternoon.

天气阴沉，但刚从黑暗的大厅里出来，亮光还是让他睁不开眼。周围树上，积雪压枝，金褐色的山丘也覆盖着一层地毯似的雪，但不若前几天多。风暴已然过去，卡斯特堡垒的日子……算不上暖和，却也没那么冷。山姆听见水流“嘀嗒嘀嗒”轻声落下，那是悬在厚厚的茅草屋顶边缘的冰晶在融化。他颤抖着深吸一口气，环顾四周。

The day was cloudy, but still bright enough to blind him after the gloom of the hall. Some patches of snow weighed down the limbs of surrounding trees and blanketed the gold and russet hills, but fewer than there had been. The storm had passed on, and the days at Craster’s Keep had been … well, not warm perhaps, but not so bitter cold. Sam could hear the soft drip-drip-drip of water melting off the icicles that bearded the edge of the thick sod roof. He took a deep shuddering breath and looked around.

西边，独臂奥罗和提姆·石东正沿着拴成一排的马匹走动，给幸存的坐骑喂水。

To the west Ollo Lophand and Tim Stone were moving through the horselines, feeding and watering the remaining garrons.

下风口，其他弟兄在宰杀那些太过虚弱、无法再走的牲口，并剥下它们的皮。长矛手和弓箭手在土堤后巡逻放哨——这是卡斯特唯一的防御设施——警惕地观望外面的树林。十几个火坑升起蓝灰色的浓烟，远处回荡着伐木声，这是在收集让火盆通宵燃烧的木柴。夜晚是可怕的时段，黑暗，寒冷。

Downwind, other brothers were skinning and butchering the animals deemed too weak to go on. Spearmen and archers walked sentry behind the earthen dikes that were Craster’s only defense against whatever hid in the wood beyond, while a dozen firepits sent up thick fingers of blue-grey smoke. Sam could hear the distant echoes of axes at work in the forest, where a work detail was harvesting enough wood to keep the blazes burning all through the night. Nights were the bad time. When it got dark. And cold.

自来到卡斯特堡垒，他们便没再遭到攻击，既没有尸鬼，更没有异鬼。卡斯特说那是不可能的事。“敬神的人不用担心这些。那曼斯·雷德跑到咱家嗅来嗅去的时候，咱也给他讲过一次。他根本听不进去，就跟你们这些又是操家伙、又是点火的乌鸦一样。我告诉你们吧，当白色寒神到来，这些一点帮助也没有。那时候呀，只有敬拜神，奉献牺牲品。”

There had been no attacks while they had been at Craster’s, neither wights nor Others. Nor would there be, Craster said. “A godly man got no cause to fear such. I said as much to that Mance Rayder once, when he come sniffing round. He never listened, no more’n you crows with your swords and your bloody fires. That won’t help you none when the white cold comes. Only the gods will help you then. You best get right with the gods.”

吉莉也提起过白色寒神，她还告诉他们，卡斯特向他的神奉献的是什么。山姆听后差点想杀了他。长城之外没有律法，他提醒自己，而卡斯特是咱守夜人的朋友。

Gilly had spoken of the white cold as well, and she’d told them what sort of offerings Craster made to his gods. Sam had wanted to kill him when he heard. There are no laws beyond the Wall, he reminded himself, and Craster’s a friend to the Watch.

枝条与泥土敷的厅堂后面传来一阵零星的喝彩，山姆过去看个究竟。脚下是湿泥和融雪，忧郁的艾迪坚持说这是卡斯特的屎。然而它比屎更黏稠，牢牢吸住山姆的靴子，他觉得一只快松脱了。

A ragged shout went up from behind the daub-and-wattle hall. Sam went to take a look. The ground beneath his feet was a slush of melting snow and soft mud that Dolorous Edd insisted was made of Craster’s shit. It was thicker than shit, though; it sucked at Sam’s boots so hard he felt one pull loose.

菜园和空羊圈边，十几个黑衣弟兄正瞄着靶子放箭，箭靶是他们用干草和麦杆做的。那位金发苗条、被称为美女唐纳的事务官刚射出一箭，离五十码外的靶心仅差一点点。“来啊，老家伙，”他说。

Back of a vegetable garden and empty sheepfold, a dozen black brothers were loosing arrows at a butt they’d built of hay and straw. The slender blond steward they called Sweet Donnel had laid a shaft just off the bull’s eye at fifty yards. “Best that, old man,” he said.

“好。你瞧着。”乌尔马弯腰屈背，踏到起点，从腰间箭袋里抽出一支箭。此人灰白胡子，皮肤和四肢都已松弛，但年轻时曾是个土匪，是声名狼籍的御林兄弟会中一员。他声称自己为偷取一位多恩公主的亲吻，曾一箭射穿御林铁卫队长“白牛”的手，当然，他也偷了她的首饰和一箱金龙币，但酒后最喜欢炫耀的还是那个吻。

“Aye. I will.” Ulmer, stooped and grey-bearded and loose of skin and limb, stepped to the mark and pulled an arrow from the quiver at his waist. In his youth he had been an outlaw, a member of the infamous Kingswood Brotherhood. He claimed he’d once put an arrow through the hand of the White Bull of the Kingsguard to steal a kiss from the lips of a Dornish princess. He had stolen her jewels too, and a chest of golden dragons, but it was the kiss he liked to boast of in his cups.

他搭箭拉弓，平滑如夏日丝绸，然后射将出去。结果比唐纳·希山近了一寸。“怎么样，小子？”他退下来问。

He notched and drew, all smooth as summer silk, then let fly. His shaft struck the butt an inch inside of Donnel Hill’s. “Will that do, lad?” he asked, stepping back.

“还不错，”年轻人不情不愿地说，“侧风帮的忙，我放箭时风大。”

“Well enough,” said the younger man, grudgingly. “The crosswind helped you. It blew more strongly when I loosed.”

“这些射之前就该考虑周全。小子，你眼睛好，手也稳，但要超过御林兄弟会的好汉，还差了那么一点点。我这身功夫由‘造箭者’迪克亲自传授，世上没有比他更好的弓箭手。我有没告诉你老迪克的事呢，嗯？”

“You ought to have allowed for it, then. You have a good eye and a steady hand, but you’ll need a deal more to best a man of the kingswood. Fletcher Dick it was who showed me how to bend the bow, and no finer archer ever lived. Have I told you about old Dick, now?”

“你讲了三百遍了。”黑城堡里每个人都听乌尔马说过昔日那帮了不起的土匪：西蒙·托因和微笑骑士，三绞不死的长颈奥斯温，“白鹿”温妲，“造箭者”迪克，“大肚子”本恩以及其他人。为避免再听一遍，美女唐纳环顾四周，找到站在泥地里的山姆。“杀手，”他喊，“过来，给我们演示你怎么杀异鬼的。”他举起高大的紫杉木长弓。

“Only three hundred times.” Every man at Castle Black had heard Ulmer’s tales of the great outlaw band of yore; of Simon Toyne and the Smiling Knight, Oswyn Longneck the Thrice-Hanged, Wenda the White Fawn, Fletcher Dick, Big Belly Ben, and all the rest. Searching for escape, Sweet Donnel looked about and spied Sam standing in the muck. “Slayer,” he called. “Come, show us how you slew the Other.” He held out the tall yew longbow.

山姆涨红了脸。“不是用箭，是用匕首，龙晶……”他知道如果自己拿起长弓，接下来会发生什么：他会脱靶，让箭越过土堤，飞进树林，然后大家哈哈大笑。

Sam turned red. “It wasn’t an arrow, it was a dagger, dragonglass …” He knew what would happen if he took the bow. He would miss the butt and send the arrow sailing over the dike off into the trees. Then he’d hear the laughter.

“没关系，”另一位弓箭好手，罗斯比的阿兰道，“看杀手射箭是件美事。对不对啊，伙计们？”

“No matter,” said Alan of Rosby, another fine bowman. “We’re all keen to see the Slayer shoot. Aren’t we, lads?”

他无法面对他们：嘲弄的笑容，刻薄的话语，眼中的轻蔑。山姆转身原路返回，不料右脚却深深陷入泥沼中，拔腿反把靴子拔掉了。他只好跪下去将它拽出来，边拽边听耳边响起笑声。等他逃开，融雪已渗入脚趾之间，层层袜子都不起作用。我是个废物，他悲惨地想，父亲说得一点没错。那么多优秀的人都死了，我没资格活着。

He could not face them; the mocking smiles, the mean little jests, the contempt in their eyes. Sam turned to go back the way he’d come, but his right foot sank deep in the muck, and when he tried to pull it out his boot came off. He had to kneel to wrench it free, laughter ringing in his ears. Despite all his socks, the snowmelt had soaked through to his toes by the time he made his escape. Useless, he thought miserably. My father saw me true. I have no right to be alive when so many brave men are dead.

葛兰在堡垒小门南面照料火坑，脱光上身劈柴，脸因使劲而涨得通红，汗水淋漓。眼看山姆噗哧噗哧走来，他咧嘴笑道：“异鬼拽下了你的靴子，杀手？”

Grenn was tending the firepit south of the compound gate, stripped to the waist as he split logs. His face was red with exertion, the sweat steaming off his skin. But he grinned as Sam came chuffing up. “The Others get your boot, Slayer?”

你怎么也？……“是因为烂泥啦。请别那么叫我。”

Him too? “It was the mud. Please don’t call me that.”

“为什么？”葛兰听上去很疑惑。“这是个好名字，你当之无愧。”

“Why not?” Grenn sounded honestly puzzled. “It’s a good name, and you came by it fairly.”

派普常取笑葛兰，说他的脸皮比城墙还厚，所以山姆得耐心解释。“这只是换种方式叫我胆小鬼罢了，”他边说，边左脚站立，右脚扭进沾满泥土的靴子里。“他们用它来嘲笑我，就像用‘巨人’这外号嘲笑贝德威克。”

Pyp always teased Grenn about being thick as a castle wall, so Sam explained patiently. “It’s just a different way of calling me a coward,” he said, standing on his left leg and wriggling back into his muddy boot. “They’re mocking me, the same way they mock Bedwyck by calling him ‘Giant.’ ”

“但他不是巨人，”葛兰说，“而保罗个子一点不‘小’。好吧，或许他小时候个头不大，但长大后绝对不小。可你确实杀了异鬼，所以这不一样的。”

“He’s not a giant, though,” said Grenn, “and Paul was never small. Well, maybe when he was a babe at the breast, but not after. You did slay the Other, though, so it’s not the same.”

“我只不过……我从来没……我当时非常恐惧！”

“I just … I never … I was scared!”

“我也是。派普说我笨得不会害怕，其实我跟别人一样怕。”葛兰弯腰拣起一段劈裂的木柴，扔进火坑中。“我从前很怕琼恩，怕跟他练武，因为他动作太快，而且打起来像要杀了我似的。”潮湿的新柴落入火焰中，冒起烟雾。“这些话我从没说出口，有时我觉得大家只不过是装出一副天不怕地不怕的样子，而没有一个人真正勇敢。也许装来装去，就会变得勇敢起来吧，我不知道。反正，他们想叫‘杀手’就让他们叫，有什么关系呢？”

“No more than me. It’s only Pyp who says I’m too dumb to be frightened. I get as frightened as anyone.” Grenn bent to scoop up a split log, and tossed it into the fire. “I used to be scared of Jon, whenever I had to fight him. He was so quick, and he fought like he meant to kill me.” The green damp wood sat in the flames, smoking before it took fire. “I never said, though. Sometimes I think everyone is just pretending to be brave, and none of us really are. Maybe pretending is how you get brave, I don’t know. Let them call you Slayer, who cares?”

“可，可你也不喜欢艾里沙爵士叫你‘苯牛’。”

“You never liked Ser Alliser to call you Aurochs.”

“是啊，他老说我又壮又笨。”葛兰挠挠胡子。“但如果派普叫我‘笨牛’，那没关系，你或琼恩也一样。瞧，牛是种凶猛强壮的野兽，所以没什么不妥，我确实个子高大，而且还在长呢。你呢，你难道不想做‘杀手’山姆而非要做猪头爵士？”

“He was saying I was big and stupid.” Grenn scratched at his beard. “If Pyp wanted to call me Aurochs, though, he could. Or you, or Jon. An aurochs is a fierce strong beast, so that’s not so bad, and I am big, and getting bigger. Wouldn’t you rather be Sam the Slayer than Ser Piggy?”

“我为什么不能简简单单地做山姆威尔·塔利？”他沉重地坐到一根葛兰还没劈开的湿木头上。“是龙晶杀了它。不是我，是龙晶干的。”

“Why can’t I just be Samwell Tarly?” He sat down heavily on a wet log that Grenn had yet to split. “It was the dragonglass that slew it. Not me, the dragonglass.”

这番话他告诉过他们，告诉过所有人。但他知道，许多人并不相信。短刃取出自己的匕首，“我有铁家伙，要玻璃干什么？”黑伯纳和三个加尔斯明确表示怀疑这整个故事，而姐妹堡的罗利直接了当，“很可能是你朝沙沙作响的灌木丛乱刺，碰巧杀了拉屎的小保罗，于是就编造谎言。”

He had told them. He had told them all. Some of them didn’t believe him, he knew. Dirk had shown Sam his dirk and said, “I got iron, what do I want with glass?” Black Bernarr and the three Garths made it plain that they doubted his whole story, and Rolley of Sisterton came right out and said, “More like you stabbed some rustling bushes and it turned out to be Small Paul taking a shit, so you came up with a lie.”

但戴文和忧郁的艾迪是认真的，他们还带山姆和葛兰去见总司令。虽然莫尔蒙在听讲过程中一直皱紧眉头，提出尖锐的问题，可他细心谨慎，不放过任何可能的收获。他要山姆把包里所有龙晶交出来，虽然那并不多。每当山姆想起埋在先民拳峰下，被琼恩发现的那批龙晶，心里就直想哭。那里不仅有匕首刀刃和矛尖，还有至少两三百个箭头啊。琼恩为自己、山姆和莫尔蒙总司令各做了一把匕首，还给山姆一个矛尖、一只破号角和一些箭头，葛兰也抓了一把箭头，多的就没有了。

But Dywen listened, and Dolorous Edd, and they made Sam and Grenn tell the Lord Commander. Mormont frowned all through the tale and asked pointed questions, but he was too cautious a man to shun any possible advantage. He asked Sam for all the dragonglass in his pack, though that was little enough. Whenever Sam thought of the cache Jon had found buried beneath the Fist, it made him want to cry. There’d been dagger blades and spearheads, and two or three hundred arrowheads at least. Jon had made daggers for himself, Sam, and Lord Commander Mormont, and he’d given Sam a spearhead, an old broken horn, and some arrowheads. Grenn had taken a handful of arrowheads as well, but that was all.

于是现今只有莫尔蒙的匕首，山姆交给葛兰的匕首，外加十九支箭和一柄绑上黑色龙晶的硬木长矛。岗哨轮班时这支长矛依次交换，莫尔蒙还把箭分给手下最好的弓箭手。“唠叨”比尔、“灰羽”加尔斯、罗纳·哈克莱、“美女”唐纳·希山和罗斯比的阿兰各有三支，乌尔马分到四支。但即使他们发发中的，也很快只能用回火箭。在先民拳峰，人们射出数百支火箭，却无法阻挡尸鬼的进攻。

So now all they had was Mormont’s dagger and the one Sam had given Grenn, plus nineteen arrows and a tall hardwood spear with a black dragonglass head. The sentries passed the spear along from watch to watch, while Mormont had divided the arrows among his best bowmen. Muttering Bill, Garth Greyfeather, Ronnel Harclay, Sweet Donnel Hill, and Alan of Rosby had three apiece, and Ulmer had four. But even if they made every shaft tell, they’d soon be down to fire arrows like all the rest. They had loosed hundreds of fire arrows on the Fist, yet still the wights kept coming.

这是不够的，山姆心想，卡斯特的土堤和湿泥融雪迟滞不了尸鬼的步伐，就连先民拳峰的陡坡都不起作用。它们依旧顽强地爬上来，涌入环墙。这次尸鬼会发现，迎接他们的不再是三百纪律严明、阵容整齐的弟兄，而是四十一个狼狈不堪的幸存者，其中有九个伤势严重，无法参战。一共六十多人从先民拳峰杀出，四十四人顶着暴风雪逃回卡斯特的堡垒，这几天，又有三人伤重而亡，巴棱很快将成为第四个。

It will not be enough, Sam thought. Craster’s sloping palisades of mud and melting snow would hardly slow the wights, who’d climbed the much steeper slopes of the Fist to swarm over the ringwall. And instead of three hundred brothers drawn up in disciplined ranks to meet them, the wights would find forty-one ragged survivors, nine too badly hurt to fight. Forty-four had come straggling into Craster’s out of the storm, out of the sixty-odd who’d cut their way free of the Fist, but three of those had died of their wounds, and Bannen would soon make four.

“你认为尸鬼都走了吗？”山姆问葛兰，“它们为什么不把我们全干掉？”

“Do you think the wights are gone?” Sam asked Grenn. “Why don’t they come finish us?”

“我想，它们大概只有天冷的时候才来吧。”

“They only come when it’s cold.”

“对，”山姆说，“但是寒冷带来尸鬼，还是尸鬼带来寒冷呢？”

“Yes,” said Sam, “but is it the cold that brings the wights, or the wights that bring the cold?”

“谁管它呀？”葛兰的斧子劈得木屑到处飞散，“反正有鬼必冷，这才关键。嘿，现在知道龙晶是它们的克星，也许它们根本不敢来了，也许它们现在怕得要命！”

“Who cares?” Grenn’s axe sent wood chips flying. “They come together, that’s what matters. Hey, now that we know that dragonglass kills them, maybe they won’t come at all. Maybe they’re frightened of us now!”

山姆希望自己可以相信朋友的话，但在他看来，人死了的话，就不会害怕和痛苦，正如没有责任与爱情。他双手环膝，层层羊毛、皮革和毛皮下冒出冷汗。没错，龙晶匕首能让树林里那个苍白的东西融化……但葛兰的意思好像它也能让尸鬼融化。其实我们并不知道，他想，我们什么都不知道。好希望琼恩在这儿。他喜欢葛兰，但无法分享对方的思维方式。琼恩不会叫我杀手，我还可以跟他谈吉莉的孩子。然而琼恩与断掌科林一同离去，杳无音信。他也有一把龙晶匕首，派上用场了吗？他是不是已经冻死在某个沟壑中……或者更糟，变成了活死人？

Sam wished he could believe that, but it seemed to him that when you were dead, fear had no more meaning than pain or love or duty. He wrapped his hands around his legs, sweating under his layers of wool and leather and fur. The dragonglass dagger had melted the pale thing in the woods, true … but Grenn was talking like it would do the same to the wights. We don’t know that, he thought. We don’t know anything, really. I wish Jon was here. He liked Grenn, but he couldn’t talk to him the same way. Jon wouldn’t call me Slayer, I know. And I could talk to him about Gilly’s baby. Jon had ridden off with Qhorin Halfhand, though, and they’d had no word of him since. He had a dragonglass dagger too, but did he think to use it? Is he lying dead and frozen in some ravine … or worse, is he dead and walking?

他不明白诸神为什么带走琼恩·雪诺和巴棱，却留下怯懦而笨拙的自己。他早该死在先民拳峰，在那儿他尿了三次裤子，还弄丢了剑；而后来若不是小保罗抱他，他也一定会死在森林里。好希望这一切都是梦，而我将很快醒来。那该多好啊，在先民拳峰上醒转，发现所有弟兄仍在周围，甚至琼恩和白灵也在。当然，在长城后面的黑城堡苏醒就更好了，到大厅里喝一碗三指哈布做的小麦乳酪浓汤，再加一大勺黄油和一团蜂蜜。想到这些，他空空的肚子咕咕直叫。

He could not understand why the gods would want to take Jon Snow and Bannen and leave him, craven and clumsy as he was. He should have died on the Fist, where he’d pissed himself three times and lost his sword besides. And he would have died in the woods if Small Paul had not come along to carry him. I wish it was all a dream. Then I could wake up. How fine that would be, to wake back on the Fist of the First Men with all his brothers still around him, even Jon and Ghost. Or even better, to wake in Castle Black behind the Wall and go to the common room for a bowl of Three-Finger Hobb’s thick cream of wheat, with a big spoon of butter melting in the middle and a dollop of honey besides. Just the thought of it made his empty stomach rumble.

“雪诺。”

“Snow.”

山姆抬头循声望去，发现莫尔蒙总司令的乌鸦正围着火坑绕圈，宽阔的黑翼拍打着空气。

Sam glanced up at the sound. Lord Commander Mormont’s raven was circling the fire, beating the air with wide black wings.

“雪诺，”鸟儿嘶喊，“雪诺，雪诺。”

“Snow,” the bird cawed. “Snow, snow.”

乌鸦飞到哪儿，莫尔蒙就走到哪儿。总司令果然骑马出现在树下，左右是老戴文和狐狸脸的游骑兵罗纳·哈克莱，他已被提升以接替索伦·斯莫伍德。守门的长矛手高声喝问，熊老暴躁地回应，“七层地狱，你以为我是谁？异鬼抠了你的眼睛？”他从两根门竿间骑过，一边是公羊头，另一边是熊头。然后他拉住缰绳，提起手来，吹声口哨，乌鸦听见召唤，拍翅飞去。

Wherever the raven went, Mormont soon followed. The Lord Commander emerged from beneath the trees, mounted on his garron between old Dywen and the fox-faced ranger Ronnel Harclay, who’d been raised to Thoren Smallwood’s place. The spearmen at the gate shouted a challenge, and the Old Bear returned a gruff, “Who in seven hells do you think goes there? Did the Others take your eyes?” He rode between the gateposts, one bearing a ram’s skull and the other the skull of a bear, then reined up, raised a fist, and whistled. The raven came flapping down at his call.

“大人，”山姆听见罗纳·哈克莱说，“我们只有二十二匹坐骑，而且我怀疑其中半数到不了长城。”

“My lord,” Sam heard Ronnel Harclay say, “we have only twenty-two mounts, and I doubt half will reach the Wall.”

“我知道，”莫尔蒙咕哝着，“但我们还是得走，卡斯特已经下了逐客令。”他瞥向西方，乌云遮住太阳。“诸神让我们缓了口气，但能有多久呢？”莫尔蒙从马鞍上一跃而下，惊得他的乌鸦重新飞入空中。他看到山姆，大声叫道，“塔利！”

“I know that,” Mormont grumbled. “We must go all the same. Craster’s made that plain.” He glanced to the west, where a bank of dark clouds hid the sun. “The gods gave us a respite, but for how long?” Mormont swung down from the saddle, jolting his raven back into the air. He saw Sam then, and bellowed, “Tarly!”

“我？”山姆狼狈地站起来。

“Me?” Sam got awkwardly to his feet.

“我？”乌鸦落到老人头上。“我？”

“Me?” The raven landed on the old man’s head. “Me?”

“你不叫塔利吗？难道这儿还有你的亲兄弟？对，就是你。闭上嘴巴，跟我走。”

“Is your name Tarly? Do you have a brother hereabouts? Yes, you. Close your mouth and come with me.”

“跟你走？”他不由自主地尖声道。

“With you?” The words tumbled out in a squeak.

莫尔蒙总司令狠狠瞪了他一眼。“你是守夜人的汉子，别每次看着我就尿裤子。跟我来，听清楚了没？”他的靴子踩在泥地里吱吱作响，山姆不得不快步跟上。“我在想你那个龙晶。”

Lord Commander Mormont gave him a withering look. “You are a man of the Night’s Watch. Try not to soil your smallclothes every time I look at you. Come, I said.” His boots made squishing sounds in the mud, and Sam had to hurry to keep up. “I’ve been thinking about this dragonglass of yours.”

“那不是我的，”山姆说。

“It’s not mine,” Sam said.

“好吧，琼恩·雪诺的龙晶。既然龙晶匕首是我们真正的需求，为何才拥有两把？长城上每个誓言弟兄本该都配备一把才对。”

“Jon Snow’s dragonglass, then. If dragonglass daggers are what we need, why do we have only two of them? Every man on the Wall should be armed with one the day he says his words.”

“我们不知道……”

“We never knew …”

“我们不知道！我们从前一定是知道的。塔利，守夜人军团忘记了自己真正的使命，这道七百尺高的绝境长城决不是为防止穿兽皮的野人来偷姑娘而修建的。长夜将至，我们是守护王国的坚盾……说到底，守夜人的首要职责是抵抗其他异类，而非防御野人。经历了无数世纪，塔利，几百年，几千年，我们忽略了真正的敌人，现在它们回来了，我们却不知如何下手。龙晶是龙制造的吗，就像民间传说的那样？”

“We never knew! But we must have known once. The Night’s Watch has forgotten its true purpose, Tarly. You don’t build a wall seven hundred feet high to keep savages in skins from stealing women. The Wall was made to guard the realms of men … and not against other men, which is all the wildlings are when you come right down to it. Too many years, Tarly, too many hundreds and thousands of years. We lost sight of the true enemy. And now he’s here, but we don’t know how to fight him. Is dragonglass made by dragons, as the smallfolk like to say?”

“学—学士们认为不是，”山姆结结巴巴地说，“学士们说它是在地心深处用火锻造而成，他们称它为黑曜石。”

“The m-maesters think not,” Sam stammered. “The maesters say it comes from the fires of the earth. They call it obsidian.”

莫尔蒙哼了一声。“他们管叫它柠檬派都可以，反正如果它真能杀死异鬼，我就要更多。”

Mormont snorted. “They can call it lemon pie for all I care. If it kills as you claim, I want more of it.”

山姆犹豫地说，“琼恩找到很多，在先民拳峰下。有数百个箭头，还有矛尖……”

Sam stumbled. “Jon found more, on the Fist. Hundreds of arrowheads, spearheads as well …”

“这些我都知道，可与事无补。要抵达先民拳峰，就得装备上我们所没有的武器，而那些武器又只在那该死的拳峰才有。况且中间还有野人。不行，我们得从别处搞龙晶。”

“So you said. Small good it does us there. To reach the Fist again we’d need to be armed with the weapons we won’t have until we reach the bloody Fist. And there are still the wildlings to deal with. We need to find dragonglass someplace else.”

发生这么多事，他几乎忘记了野人。“森林之子使用龙晶刀剑，”他道，“他们知道上哪儿找黑曜石。”

Sam had almost forgotten about the wildlings, so much had happened since. “The children of the forest used dragonglass blades,” he said. “They’d know where to find obsidian.”

“森林之子死光了，”莫尔蒙暴躁地说，“先民们用铜剑屠杀，安达尔人用铁剑接着干。龙晶匕首怎么会——”

“The children of the forest are all dead,” said Mormont. “The First Men killed half of them with bronze blades, and the Andals finished the job with iron. Why a glass dagger should—”

卡斯特从鹿皮门后钻出来，熊老顿时住口。野人微笑着露出一口棕色烂牙。“我得了个儿子。”

The Old Bear broke off as Craster emerged from between the deerhide flaps of his door. The wildling smiled, revealing a mouth of brown rotten teeth. “I have a son.”

“儿子，”莫尔蒙的乌鸦嘶哑地叫道。“儿子，儿子，儿子。”

“Son,” cawed Mormont’s raven. “Son, son, son.”

总司令面无表情。“恭喜你。”

The Lord Commander’s face was stiff. “I’m glad for you.”

“哦，是吗？对我而言，你和你的人赶紧离开才是喜事。我想，是时候了。”

“Are you, now? Me, I’ll be glad when you and yours are gone. Past time, I’m thinking.”

“等我们的伤员恢复……”

“As soon as our wounded are strong enough …”