冰与火之歌英语电子书（冰与火之歌双语阅读25）

【读你所爱，呵护你的心灵；掌握英语，打开你的第三只眼】

【Catelyn看见一道影子从那人身后开着的门中窜了进来。接着是一声低沉的叫声，那算不上是咆哮，只是一声低声的恐吓罢了。但那个人一定听到了什么，因为就在狼飞扑上来的时候，他正好转过了身子。他们同时倒了下去，就跌倒在地上的Catelyn身上。那只狼正好咬在那个人的下巴下方。那人刚刚发出半声尖叫，这时巨狼猛地将头往后一仰，把他的半截喉咙扯了下来。

那人的血喷洒在Catelyn的脸上，就像是下了场温热的雨一般。】

【Catelyn saw the shadow slip through the open door behind him. There was a low rumble, less than a snarl, the merest whisper of a threat, but he must have heard something, because he started to turn just as the wolf made its leap. They went down together, half sprawled over Catelyn where she’d fallen. The wolf had him under the jaw. The man’s shriek lasted less than a second before the beast wrenched back its head, taking out half his throat.

His blood felt like warm rain as it sprayed across her face.】

【英语点滴：关于听懂英语中的人名和地名】

英语学习者在学习过程中的一个挑战就是听懂、读出和记住英语中的人名和地名。我给朋友们的建议是：在这冰与火之歌系列中，所有的名称我都不做翻译，试试你能不能试着自己拼读名字，然后再听懂和记住名字。我的一个重要经验就是：不要将名字翻译成中文。现在大家的反馈是，记住英语名字已经不是问题了。

英语中所有名称都是名称念法的拼音记录。你能够拼读出来，基本上就已经知道了它的拼写字母。你能够记住拼读的发音，你就基本记住了字母的拼写。你所需要额外做的功课是，通过听力跟读尽可能记住它在英语中比较规范的读法。

由于中文文字不是对声音的拼音记录，因此将英语名字翻译成中文的后果就是，一方面中文不能准确地记录英语的发音，二是将英语名称的发音与发音的拼写割裂开来。其结果是，我们既记不住一些国外名称的中文译名（如费奥多尔·陀思妥耶夫斯基，英语拼写是：Fyodor Dostoyevsky），也无法联想起它的英语拼写。

曾经有一段时间，有许多人争论美国电影“Titanic”的中文翻译是“泰坦尼克号”的翻译好还是“铁达尼号”的翻译好。许多文人骚客发表了不同的意见。多数人不知道的是，这两种译文的区别本质在于广东话和普通话的差别，与英语关系不大了。在广东话中是很少发“泰（tai）”这个音的。

国内也有专家在呼吁统一外国名称的中文译法。我对英语学习者的建议是：记住英语名称的关键在于：忘掉这些名称的中文译法。用英语拼写来记住发音，用记住的发音来尝试英语名称的拼写。有人问，那我拼读发音不准确怎么办？最好的办法是看着拼写多听规范的念法。但是，即使你的发音不准确，也一定比规范的中文翻译要准确得多。不信的话你试着读一下John和Tom的发音（中文的标准翻译是“约翰”和“汤姆”）

【刘博士译文】

冰与火之歌系列——第一部《权力的游戏》：Catelyn

Ned带着女儿们离开Winterfell已经有八天了。这天晚上，Luwin博士拿着一盏油灯还有账本来Bran的病房见Catelyn。“我们该过一下账目了，夫人，”他说。“你一定想知道这次国王到访花了我们多少钱。”

Catelyn看着躺在床上的Bran，她将Bran的头发从前额拨到脑后。她突然意识到，Bran的头发已经长得很长了。她该给Bran剪头发了。“我用不着看这些数字，Luwin博士，”她对博士说道，她的目光一刻也没有离开过Bran。“我知道这次造访花了我们多少钱。把账目拿走。”

“夫人，国王的那帮人真吃了我们不少东西。我们得补充一下我们的库存了，得赶在——”

Catelyn打断了他的话，“我说了，把账目拿走。管家会打理这些事情的。”

“我们已经没有管家了，”Luwin 博士提醒她。博士有时真像一只灰色的小老鼠，不依不饶的，Catelyn心里想。“Poole也去南方了，去帮Eddard大人打理他在王城的新家。”

Catelyn心不在焉地点点头。“哦，对了，我想起来了。”Bran看起来是那么苍白。Catelyn不知道应不应该把他的床挪到窗户底下去，这样他就可以照到早上的阳光了。

Luwin博士把灯放在门边的一个小格子里，他拨了拨灯芯。“夫人，还有几件安排人手的事情也需要您立即处理的。除了一个新管家之外，我们还需要一位新的卫兵总管来接替Jory的位置，还需要一名新的马夫——”

Catelyn的目光猛地转了过来，她盯着Luwin。“马夫？”她的声音就像是一声抽响的鞭子。

博士吓了一跳。“是的，夫人。Hullen也和Eddard领主一起去南方了，所以——”

“Luwin，我的儿子躺在这里动弹不得，命都快没了，而你却想和我讨论新马夫的事情？你觉得我在乎马厩的事吗？你觉得这和我有一毛钱的关系吗？要是这能让Bran醒过来的话，你让我亲手把Winterfell城里的每一匹马都杀了我都心甘情愿，你明白吗？你明白吗？”

Luwin低下了头。“是的，夫人，但是安排人手的事——”

“我会来安排的，”Robb的声音说道。

Catelyn根本没有听见Robb是什么时候进来的，但现在，Robb就站在门口处看着她。她突然感到一阵羞愧，她意识到，自己刚才一直在大喊大叫。她这是怎么了？她也许是太累了，这些天来她一直头痛不已。

Luwin将目光从Catelyn转向了她的儿子。“我已经准备了一份名单，这些人都是我们可以考虑填补空缺的人手，”他一边说着，一边从他的袖口里抽出一张纸来递给Robb。

她的儿子浏览着那份名单。Catelyn可以看出来，他是刚从城堡外进来的。他的脸颊被寒冷冻得通红，他的头发长长的，被风吹得竖了起来。“这些人不错，”他说。“我们明天再讨论他们。”他把名单交还给博士。

“好的，大人。”那张纸又消失在了博士的袖口中。

“现在你可以走了，”Robb说。Luwin博士鞠了一躬，然后离开。Robb关上门，转身面对着母亲。Catelyn看见，Robb现在随身佩戴着剑。“妈妈，你这是在干嘛呢？”

Catelyn一直觉得Robb长得像自己。他和Bran、Rickon和Sansa一样，他们都继承了Tully家族的肤色和发色，都有着棕红色的头发和蓝色的眼睛。可是现在，她第一次在Robb的脸上看到了Eddard Stark的影子，那是一种北方人才有的严肃和坚强。“我在干嘛？”她重复着Robb的话，不明白他的意思。“你怎么可以这样问我？你以为我在干嘛呢？我在照顾你的弟弟。我在照顾Bran。”

“你把这称之为照顾？自从Bran受伤以后，你就再也没有离开过这个房间。就连父亲和妹妹们出发去南方的那天，你都没有去大门口告别。”

“我是在这里和他们告别的，我是从那扇窗户目送他们骑马离开的。”Katelyn曾经恳求Ned不要走，现在不能去南方了，尤其是出了这事以后。现在一切都已经改变了，难道Ned看不出来吗？她说什么都不管用。Ned对Catelyn说，他没有选择。然而，他却离开了，这就是他的选择。

“我不能离开他，一刻也不能离开他，因为任何一刻都有可能是他生命的最后一刻。我必须和他在一起，如果……如果。”Catelyn握住Bran那软弱无力的手，她把Bran的手指穿在自己的手指间缠在一起。Bran现在是那么脆弱和消瘦，他的手已经没有任何力气了，但是Catelyn透过Bran的皮肤依旧能够感受到他温热的生命。

Robb的声音柔和了下来。“他不会死的，妈妈。Luwin博士说，最危险的阶段已经过去了。”

“可是，如果Luwin博士错了怎么办？如果Bran需要我的时候我不在他身边怎么办？”

“Rickon也需要你，”Robb厉声说道。“他才只有三岁，他根本不知道出了什么事。他还以为所有人都抛弃了他，所以他整天跟在我后面到处乱跑，还抓住我的腿，哭哭啼啼的。我真不知道该拿他怎么办好。”Robb停顿了一会儿，他咬着他的下嘴唇，这是他小时候常做的动作。“妈妈，我也需要你。我已经很努力了，可是我不能……我一个人做不到。”他突然激动起来，他说不下去了。Catelyn这才记起来，他也只有14岁。她想要起身走到Robb身边去，可是Bran依旧握着她的手，她动弹不得。

在塔楼外，一只狼开始嚎叫起来。Catelyn发起抖来，但只是那么一瞬间而已。

“是Bran的狼崽子。”Robb一边说着，一边打开窗户，让夜晚的空气流进这密不透风的塔屋里。嚎叫声变得愈发响亮。那是一种冰冷而孤寂的叫声，充满了忧伤和绝望的叫声。

“别开窗，”Catelyn对Robb说，“Bran需要呆在暖和的地方。”

“他需要听见那些狼的声音，”Robb说。在Winterfell城堡的某个地方，第二只狼开始回应起第一只狼的叫声来。接着是第三只狼的声音，声音更近。“是长毛狗和灰风，”Robb听着他们此起彼伏的叫声，说道，“如果你仔细听的话，就可以区分出他们的声音来。”

Catelyn浑身发抖，既因为悲伤，寒冷，也因为巨狼的嚎叫声。有多少个夜晚，那嚎叫声、冷风，还有灰蒙蒙的空旷城堡，从来就没有停歇过，也没有改变过，只有她的儿子面目全非地躺在那里，这是她最讨人喜欢的一个孩子，是她最温柔的，最喜欢笑，最喜欢爬，梦想着有一天成为骑士的儿子Bran，而这一切现在都已经离她而去，她再也不能听到Bran的欢笑了。Catelyn抽泣着把自己的手从Bran的手中挣脱出来，捂住自己的耳朵，不让自己听到那些可怕的嚎叫声。“让他们住嘴！”她大叫着，“我受不了它，让他们住嘴，让他们住嘴，实在不行你就杀了他们吧，只要能让他们住嘴就好！”

Catelyn不记得自己是什么时候跌倒在地的，但她此刻的确是在地上，而Robb正用自己有劲的胳膊抱着她。“别害怕，妈妈。那些狼永远不会伤害Bran的。”他扶着Catelyn走到房屋一角她的窄窄小床上躺下。“闭上眼睛，”Robb轻柔地说道。“休息吧。Luwin博士跟我说，自从Bran摔下来以后，你几乎就没怎么睡过觉。”

“我睡不着，”Catelyn哭着说,“众神啊，原谅我吧，可是我睡不着啊，Robb，要是他在我睡着的时候死了怎么办，他死了怎么办，他死了怎么办……”狼依旧在嚎叫着。Catelyn尖叫着，她再次捂住了耳朵。“oh，天哪，把窗户关上！”

“如果你向我保证，你会睡一会，我就会关上窗户。”Robb走到窗前，可是当他刚伸手去关窗户的时候，在那一群巨狼的哀鸣声中又加入了另外一种叫声。“狗也在叫，”Robb一边聆听，一边说着，“所有的狗都在叫。它们以前从来没有这样过……”Catelyn听见Robb屏住了呼吸。当她抬头看着Robb的时候，Robb的脸色在油灯下显得极为苍白。“着火了，”他低声说道。

着火了，Catelyn的脑子里闪过这个词，然后她才明白是怎么回事，她想起了Bran！“帮帮我，”她一边坐起来，一边焦急地说，“帮我把Bran抬出去。”

Robb似乎没有听到她说话，“是图书馆的塔楼着火了，”他又说道。

现在，Catelyn透过敞开的窗户可以看见闪烁的红光。她松了一口气。Bran没有危险。图书馆在她们塔楼外墙的对面，火是烧不到这里来的。“谢天谢地，”她低声自语道。

Robb用一种奇怪的目光看着Catelyn，好像她已经疯了似的。“妈妈，呆在这儿。等火一灭我就立刻回来。”说着，他就跑了出去。Catelyn听见Robb在屋外大声叫着卫兵，听见他们一起飞一般地冲了下去，一次跳两级或是三级台阶。

城堡外面，院子里到处都是人们“着火了！”的叫喊声，还有尖叫声、跑动的脚步声、受惊了的马的嘶鸣声以及城堡四处狗的狂吠声。当Catelyn听着这些嘈杂的声音时，她又意识到，狼嚎声已经停止了。巨狼们已经安静了下来。

Catelyn一边默默地在心里向七面之神念着感谢之词，一边走到窗前。在外墙的另一边，长长的火焰从图书馆的窗户里飘了出来。Catelyn看着浓烟升向天空，一边为Stark家族在几个世纪以来所收藏的所有书籍如今付之一炬感到难过。然后，她关上了窗户。

当她从窗边转过身来的时候，她发现房间里还有一个人。

“你不该呆在这儿的，”那人没好气地嘟囔着，“这里应该没人了才对。”

他是一个矮小，肮脏的男人，穿着一身脏兮兮的棕色衣服，身上还散发出马的酸臭味来。Catelyn认识所有在城堡马厩里工作的人，这个人肯定不是马厩里的马夫。他一副憔悴的模样，金色的头发耷拉在脑袋上，一双浅色的眼睛深嵌在瘦骨嶙峋的脸上。他的手里拿着一把匕首。

Catelyn看了看那把匕首，然后又看了看Bran。“不，”她说道。她的话卡在了喉咙里，声音低得听不见。

那个人一定是听见了Catelyn说的话，“这是为他好，”他说，“他早就已经死了。”

“不，”Catelyn又说道，她从震惊中恢复了过来，她的声音现在更大了。“不，你不能这么做。”她猛地转向窗边开始大呼救命，但是那人的动作比她想象的要快。他用一只手捂住她的嘴巴，把她的头使劲往后摁，然后用另一只手将匕首举到了她的喉咙上。他身上的臭味让人恶心。

Catelyn举起双手，她用尽全身的力气抓住刀刃，把匕首从她的喉咙边推开。她听见那个人在她的耳朵咒骂着。她的手指上满是鲜血，不住地打滑，但她就是不肯放开匕首。捂在她嘴上的那只手更加使劲，她无法呼吸。Catelyn把头往一边拧着，然后用牙齿咬住了一块他的肉。她使劲地咬住那个人的掌心。那人痛苦地叫了出来。Catelyn用牙齿死死地咬住，然后使劲地撕扯。那个人突然放开了手。Catelyn的嘴里满是那个人的血的味道。她深呼吸了一口气，又尖叫起来。那个人

抓住Catelyn的头发，把她从自己身边推开，Catelyn踉跄着摔倒在地。接着那个人又站在了她的身前，摇摇晃晃地喘着粗气。他的右手仍旧紧紧地握着匕首，匕首上满是鲜血。“你不该在这儿的，”那人愚蠢地重复着这句话。

Catelyn看见一道影子从那人身后开着的门中窜了进来。接着是一声低沉的叫声，那算不上是咆哮，只是一声低声的恐吓罢了。但那个人一定听到了什么，因为就在狼飞扑上来的时候，他正好转过了身子。他们同时倒了下去，就跌倒在地上的Catelyn身上。那只狼正好咬在那个人的下巴下方。那人刚刚发出半声尖叫，接着巨狼猛地将头往后一仰，把他的半截喉咙扯了下来。

那人的血喷洒在Catelyn的脸上，就像是下了场温热的雨一般。

巨狼望着Catelyn。它的下巴又红又湿，它的眼睛在阴暗的房间里闪着金色的光。Catelyn意识到了，这是Bran的那只狼崽子，一定是它。“谢谢你，”Catelyn低声说，她的嗓音微弱而细小。她颤抖着伸出手来。巨狼走近她，闻了闻她的手指，然后用它那潮湿而粗糙的舌头舔起血来。当它把Catelyn手上的血舔干净以后，它悄无声息地转过身，跳到了Bran的床上，然后在他身边躺了下来。Catelyn开始歇斯底里地大笑起来。

当Robb、Luwin博士和Rodrik爵士带着Winterfell城堡一半的卫兵冲进屋里的时候，他们看见的就是这一幕情景。当Catelyn终于停下了大笑以后，人们用厚实的毯子把她包裹起来，领着她回到大关口城堡她自己的房间里。老奶妈给她脱了衣服，扶着她走进了水滚烫的浴盆里，然后用毛巾将她身上的血擦拭干净。

在这以后，Luwin博士又赶来给她包扎伤口。她手指上的伤口很深，几乎伤到了骨头，她的头皮也磨破了，有一处头发被那人拔掉的地方还在流着血。博士告诉她，过一会还会更疼的，并让她喝下了一些罂粟花奶汁来帮她入睡。

最后，她终于闭上了眼睛。

当她再次睁开眼睛的时候，人们告诉她，她已经睡了整整四天了。Catelyn点点头，在床上坐了起来。自从Bran摔下来以后，发生的一切事情现在对她来说就像是一场噩梦，一场满是血腥和悲伤的噩梦， 然而，她手上的伤痛却在告诉她，这一切都是真的。她感到异常虚弱，头重脚轻，但她的思想却异常的坚定，似乎她的身上终于卸下了一个巨大的包袱。

“给我拿些面包和蜂蜜来，”她对仆人说，“再传话给Luwin博士，告诉他我该换绷带了。”仆人们用惊讶的表情看着她，然后就跑着去做她吩咐的事情去了。

Catelyn想起了她之前的样子，她为此感到羞愧。她让所有人失望了，包括她的孩子，她的丈夫，还有她的家族。这种事情再也不会发生了。她要让这些北方人看见，来自Riverrun城堡的Tully家的人会是多么坚强。

她的饭还没有端上来，倒是 Robb先来了。和他一起的还有Rodrik Cassel爵士和她丈夫的被监护人Theon Greyjoy，跟在最后的是Hallis Mollen，一名有着方方正正棕色胡须的身材魁梧的守卫。Robb告诉她，他是新上任的卫队总管。Catelyn注意到，她的儿子穿着软皮革上衣，外面套着链子甲，他的腰间挂着一把剑。

“查出来那个人是谁了吗？”Catelyn问他们。

“没人知道他叫什么，” Hallis Mollen回答说，“他不是Winterfell的本地人，夫人，但是有人说，他们曾在前几周的时候见到过这人在城堡里四处晃荡。”

“这么说，他可能是国王手下的人，”她说，“或者是Lannister家族的人。他很有可能是在其他人离开以后，自己偷偷留了下来。”

“有可能，”Hallis说，“最近一段时间，Winterfell城满是这些外地人，我们很难判断他是属于哪一边的。”

Greyjoy这时说道，“他就一直躲在你们的马厩里，你从他身上的味道就可以闻出来。”

“那么，怎么会没有人注意到他呢？”Catelyn 尖锐地问道。

Hallis Mollen看上去一脸惭愧的样子，“Eddard大人他们骑着南下的马匹关在马厩的一边，另一边是我们送给黑夜守护营的马匹。这两边之间的马厩里基本上是空的。要想躲在里面不被马夫发现并不是什么难事。Hodor有可能看见过他，据说那孩子最近的举动一直很奇怪，不过像他这样头脑简单的人……”Hallis摇了摇头。

“我们倒是找到了他睡觉的地方，”Robb插话进来，“他把一个皮包藏在了稻草床垫的下面，皮包里有90枚银币。”

“这么说来，我儿子的命还是值一些钱的，”Catelyn嘲讽地说道。

Hallis Mollen看着Catelyn，一脸迷惑,“恕我直言，夫人，难道您是说他来这儿的目的是要刺杀您的儿子？”

Greyjoy也将信将疑，“那人是有病吧。”

“他是冲着Bran来的，”Catelyn说，“他不停地嘀咕着我不该呆在那个地方的。他放火烧了图书馆，以为我会跑出去救火，还会带上所有的守卫一起去。要不是我当时悲伤得像是疯了一样，他的计谋本来能够得逞的。”

“为什么会有人想要刺杀Bran？”Robb说。“天哪，他只是个小孩子而已，一个手无缚鸡之力的，昏迷不醒的孩子……”

Catelyn用一种挑战的目光看着她的长子，“如果你要统治北方的话，你就必须把这些事情想清楚，Robb。现在你自己来回答你的问题，为什么会有人想刺杀一个昏迷不醒的孩子？

Robb还没来得及回答，仆人们就端着一盘刚从厨房做好的吃的回来了。这远比Catelyn 要求的要多：有热面包、黄油、蜂蜜以及黑莓果酱，还有一片培根和一个煮鸡蛋，一小块芝士和一壶薄荷茶。接着Luwin博士也来了。

“我儿子现在怎么样了，博士？”Catelyn一边问，一边看着所有的食物，她这才发现自己并没有食欲。

Luwin博士垂下了眼睛。“他还是老样子，夫人。”

Catelyn早就预料到这个答案了，和她想的一模一样。她的手因疼痛而抽搐起来，仿佛匕首的刀刃还深深地刺在她的体内。她把仆人们打发走，然后转头看着罗布，“你有答案了吗？”

“有人害怕Bran会苏醒过来，”Robb说，“害怕他可能会说出什么来或是做出什么来，害怕他所知道的东西。”

Catelyn为儿子感到骄傲。“非常好。”她转向新上任的卫队总管。“我们必须保证Bran的安全。既然有了一个刺客，就可能还会有其他的刺客。”

“夫人，你需要多少个守卫？”Hallis问道。

“只要Eddard大人还没有回来，我的儿子就是Winterfell的主人，”Catelyn对Hallis说。

Robb站得更直了一些，“全天都安排一个人守在病房内，一个人守在门外，另外两个人守在楼梯口。没有我或是我母亲的许可，任何人都不得见到Bran。”

“听您的吩咐，大人。”

“现在就去安排吧，”Catelyn建议道。

“还有，让他的狼和他一起呆在房间里，”Robb补充道。

“对，”Catelyn说，然后她又重复了一遍：“对。”

Hallis Mollen鞠了一躬，离开了房间。

Rodrick爵士等到守卫队长走了以后，问道，“Stark夫人，你有没有留意到刺客所用的匕首呢？”

“当时的情形可没法让我仔细地检查它，不过我可以保证，它非常锋利，”Catelyn带着讽刺的笑回答道，“你干嘛这么问？”

“我们在那个恶棍的手里找到了这把匕首。在我看来，这把匕首对于这样一个家伙来说，未免也太精致了，于是我仔仔细细地研究了这把匕首。它的刀刃用的是Valyrian城的精钢，它的剑柄是用龙骨做的。像这样的一把武器是不应该出现在这种身份的人的手里的。一定是有人把这把匕首给了他。”

Catelyn若有所思地点了点头，“Robb，把门关上。”

Robb奇怪地看着母亲，但他还是照做了。

“我将要告诉你们的事情，绝对不能传到这间屋子外面去，”Catelyn对他们说道，“我需要你们对此向我发誓。也许我的怀疑只有一部分是真的，但我认为，Ned和我的女儿们已经卷入了一场致命的危险之中，一句稍不留神的话就有可能让他们丢了性命。”

“Eddard大人对我来说就像是我的第二父亲，”Theon Greyjoy说道，“我向你发誓。”

“我向你发誓，”Luwin博士说。

“我也发誓，夫人，”Rodrick爵士附和道。

Catelyn看着她的儿子，“你呢，Robb？”

Robb点头表示同意。

“我的妹妹Lysa认为，是Lannister家的人谋杀了她的丈夫Arryn大人，也就是国王的首相，”Catelyn对他们说。“我现在想起来，在Bran摔下来的那一天，Jaime Lannister并没有参加国王的狩猎。他是呆在城堡里的。”房间里死一般的宁静。“我认为Bran不是从那座瞭望塔上摔下来的，”Catelyn在一片寂静中说道。“我认为他是被人推下来的。”

所有人的脸上都是一副明显的震惊表情。“夫人，这个想法太可怕了，”Rodrik Cassel说道。“即便对于弑君者来说，他也没有胆量去谋杀一个无辜的孩子吧。”

“哦，是吗？”Theon Grey问道“我还真说不准。”

“Lannister家人的傲慢和野心是没有止境的。”。Catelyn说道。

“这个孩子以前是从来没有失手过的，”Luwin博士若有所思地说，“他熟悉Winterfell城堡里的每一块石头。”

“天哪，”Robb咒骂起来，他那年轻的脸上因为愤怒而显得邪恶，“要真是这样的话，他一定要血债血偿。”他拔出剑来在空中挥舞着，“我要亲手杀了他！”

Rodrick爵士对Robb勃然大怒，“把你的剑收起来！Lannister家的人现在远在百里之外呢。除非你真的打算用你的剑，否则不要拔出你的剑来。我得对你说多少次才行，傻孩子？”

Robb一脸羞愧地把剑插回剑鞘，突然间他又变成了一个孩子。Catelyn对Rodrick爵士说道：“我看见我儿子现在佩戴的是真刀真剑了。”

老武师Rodrick回答说：“我觉得是时候了。”

Robb紧张地看着母亲。“早就是时候了，”她说。“Winterfell也许很快就需要用得上它所有的剑了，而且这些剑最好不是用木头做的。”

Theon Greyjoy把手搭在了他的剑柄上，说道：“夫人，如果这一天到来的话，我们家族可是亏欠你们家族很大一笔债的。”

Luwin博士拽了拽他的链子项圈，项圈磨得他的脖子生疼。“我们现在有的都只是推断。我们想要指控的人可是女王的亲生弟弟。她可不会善罢甘休的。我们必须要有证据，否则的话我们最好永远不提这事。”

“你要的证据就在这把匕首里，”Rodrick爵士说道，“像这样的一把好匕首是不会没有人认得的。”

Catelyn意识到，只有一个地方才能够找到这把匕首的真相。“我们必须派人去王城。”

“我去，”Robb说。

“不行，”Catelyn对Robb说。“这里才是需要你的地方。Winterfell城一定要有Stark家的人才行。”她看了看一脸白胡子的Rodrick爵士，又看了看身着灰袍的Luwin博士，然后是清瘦、黝黑又桀骜不驯的Greyjoy。该派谁去呢？他们又会相信谁的话呢？然后她就知道答案了。Catelyn挣扎着掀开毯子，她那缠着绷带的手指像石头一般僵硬而笨拙。她从床上爬了起来。“我必须得自己去。”

“夫人，”Luwin博士说，“这么做明智吗？Lannister家的人一定会对你的到来心生怀疑的。”

“Bran又怎么办？”Robb问道。这个可怜的孩子现在看起来完全被搞糊涂了。“你不会想把他留下不管吧。”

“我能为Bran做的，我都已经做了，”Catelyn一边说，一边把一只受伤的手放在他的胳膊上。“他的生死现在掌握在众神和Luwin博士的手中了。Robb，你自己也曾提醒过我，我还有其他的孩子需要考虑照顾。”

“你需要一个很强的护卫，夫人，”Theon说。

“我会派Hal带领一队卫兵来保护你，”Robb说。

“不行，”Catelyn说，“一大队人马会引起不必要的注意的。我可不想让Lannister家的人知道我来王城了。”

Rodrick爵士抗议道，“夫人，至少可以让我陪同你一起去吧。女人一个人走在国王大道上是很危险的。”

Catelyn回答说：“我不会走国王大道这条路。”她又想了一想，然后点头表示同意。“两个人骑马走的速度不一定比一个人骑马要慢，却一定比一大队人马还拉着马车和房车的速度要快得多。我欢迎你的加入，Rodrick爵士。我们会沿着White Knife这条路一直到海边，然后在White港口租一艘船。有好马和顺风的帮助，我们就能赶在Ned和Lannister家人之前到达王城。”她心里想，等到那个时候，我们再走一步看一步吧。

【英语原文】

A Song of Ice and Fire----Book One: Game of Thrones

Catelyn

Ned and the girls were eight days gone when Maester Luwin came to her one night in Bran’s sickroom, carrying a reading lamp and the books of account. “It is past time that we reviewed the figures, my lady,” he said. “You’ll want to know how much this royal visit cost us.”

Catelyn looked at Bran in his sickbed and brushed his hair back off his forehead. It had grown very long, she realized. She would have to cut it soon. “I have no need to look at figures, Maester Luwin,” she told him, never taking her eyes from Bran. “I know what the visit cost us. Take the books away.”

“My lady, the king’s party had healthy appetites. We must replenish our stores before-“ She cut him off. “I said, take the books away. The steward will attend to our needs.”

“We have no steward,” Maester Luwin reminded her. Like a little grey rat, she thought, he would not let go. “Poole went south to establish Lord Eddard’s household at King’s Landing.”

Catelyn nodded absently. “Oh, yes. I remember.” Bran looked so pale. She wondered whether they might move his bed under the window, so he could get the morning sun.

Maester Luwin set the lamp in a niche by the door and fiddled with its wick. “There are several appointments that require your immediate attention, my lady. Besides the steward, we need a captain of the guards to fill Jory’s place, a new master of horse-“

Her eyes snapped around and found him. “A master of horse?” Her voice was a whip. The maester was shaken. “Yes, my lady. Hullen rode south with Lord Eddard, so-”

“My son lies here broken and dying, Luwin, and you wish to discuss a new master of horse? Do you think I care what happens in the stables? Do you think it matters to me one whit? I would gladly butcher every horse in Winterfell with my own hands if it would open Bran’s eyes, do you understand that? Do you?”

He bowed his head. “Yes, my lady, but the appointments-“ “I’ll make the appointments,” Robb said.

Catelyn had not heard him enter, but there he stood in the doorway, looking at her. She had been shouting, she realized with a sudden flush of shame. What was happening to her? She was so tired, and her head hurt all the time.

Maester Luwin looked from Catelyn to her son. “I have prepared a list of those we might wish to consider for the vacant offices,” he said, offering Robb a paper plucked from his sleeve.

Her son glanced at the names. He had come from outside, Catelyn saw; his cheeks were red from the cold, his hair shaggy and windblown. “Good men,” he said. “We’ll talk about them tomorrow.” He handed back the list of names.

“Very good, my lord.” The paper vanished into his sleeve.

“Leave us now,” Robb said. Maester Luwin bowed and departed. Robb closed the door behind him and turned to her. He was wearing a sword, she saw. “Mother, what are you doing?”

Catelyn had always thought Robb looked like her; like Bran and Rickon and Sansa, he had the Tully coloring, the auburn hair, the blue eyes. Yet now for the first time she saw something of Eddard Stark in his face, something as stern and hard as the north. “What am I doing?” she echoed, puzzled. “How can you ask that? What do you imagine I’m doing? I am taking care of your brother. I am taking care of Bran.”

“Is that what you call it? You haven’t left this room since Bran was hurt. You didn’t even come to the gate when Father and the girls went south.”

“I said my farewells to them here, and watched them ride out from that window.” She had begged Ned not to go, not now, not after what had happened; everything had changed now, couldn’t he see that? It was no use. He had no choice, he had told her, and then he left, choosing. “I can’t leave him, even for a moment, not when any moment could be his last. I have to be with him, if ... if.” She took her son’s limp hand, sliding his fingers through her own. He was so frail and thin, with no strength left in his hand, but she could still feel the warmth of life through his skin.

Robb’s voice softened. “He’s not going to die, Mother. Maester Luwin says the time of greatest danger has passed.”

“And what if Maester Luwin is wrong? What if Bran needs me and I’m not here?”

“Rickon needs you,” Robb said sharply. “He’s only three, he doesn’t understand what’s happening. He thinks everyone has deserted him, so he follows me around all day, clutching my leg and crying. I don’t know what to do with him.” He paused a moment, chewing on his lower lip the way he’d done when he was little. “Mother, I need you too. I’m trying but I can’t . . . I can’t do it all by myself.” His voice broke with sudden emotion, and Catelyn remembered that he was only fourteen. She wanted to get up and go to him, but Bran was still holding her hand and she could not move.

Outside the tower, a wolf began to howl. Catelyn trembled, just for a second.

“Bran’s.” Robb opened the window and let the night air into the stuffy tower room. The howling grew louder. It was a cold and lonely sound, full of melancholy and despair.

“Don’t,” she told him. “Bran needs to stay warm.”

“He needs to hear them sing,” Robb said. Somewhere out in Winterfell, a second wolf began to howl in chorus with the first. Then a third, closer. “Shaggydog and Grey Wind,” Robb said as their voices rose and fell together. “You can tell them apart if you listen close.”

Catelyn was shaking. It was the grief, the cold, the howling of the direwolves. Night after night, the howling and the cold wind and the grey empty castle, on and on they went, never changing, and her boy lying there broken, the sweetest of her children, the gentlest, Bran who loved to laugh and climb and dreamt of knighthood, all gone now, she would never hear him laugh again. Sobbing, she pulled her hand free of his and covered her ears against those terrible howls. “Make them stop!” she cried. “I can’t stand it, make them stop, make them stop, kill them all if you must, just make them stop!”

She didn’t remember falling to the floor, but there she was, and Robb was lifting her, holding her in strong arms. “Don’t be afraid, Mother. They would never hurt him.” He helped her to her narrow bed in the corner of the sickroom. “Close your eyes,” he said gently. “Rest. Maester Luwin tells me you’ve hardly slept since Bran’s fall.”

“I can’t,” she wept. “Gods forgive me, Robb, I can’t, what if he dies while I’m asleep, what if he dies, what if he dies . . .,” The wolves were still howling. She screamed and held her ears again. “Oh, gods, close the window!”

“If you swear to me you’ll sleep.” Robb went to the window, but as he reached for the shutters another sound was added to the mournful howling of the direwolves. “Dogs,” he said, listening. “All the dogs are barking. They’ve never done that before . . .” Catelyn heard his breath catch in his throat. When she looked up, his face was pale in the lamplight. “Fire, “ he whispered.

Fire, she thought, and then, Bran! “Help me,” she said urgently, sitting up. “Help me with Bran.” Robb did not seem to hear her. “The library tower’s on fire,” he said.

Catelyn could see the flickering reddish light through the open window now. She sagged with relief. Bran was safe. The library was across the bailey; there was no way the fire would reach them here. “Thank the gods,” she whispered.

Robb looked at her as if she’d gone mad. “Mother, stay here. I’ll come back as soon as the fire’s out.” He ran then. She heard him shout to the guards outside the room, heard them descending together in a wild rush, taking the stairs two and three at a time.

Outside, there were shouts of “Fire!” in the yard, screams, running footsteps, the whinny of frightened horses, and the frantic barking of the castle dogs. The howling was gone, she realized as she listened to the cacophony. The direwolves had fallen silent.

Catelyn said a silent prayer of thanks to the seven faces of god as she went to the window. Across the bailey, long tongues of flame shot from the windows of the library. She watched the smoke rise into the sky and thought sadly of all the books the Starks had gathered over the centuries. Then she closed the shutters.

When she turned away from the window, the man was in the room with her.

“You weren’t s’posed to be here,” he muttered sourly. “No one was s’posed to be here.”

He was a small, dirty man in filthy brown clothing, and he stank of horses. Catelyn knew all the men who worked in their stables, and he was none of them. He was gaunt, with limp blond hair and pale eyes deep-sunk in a bony face, and there was a dagger in his hand.

Catelyn looked at the knife, then at Bran. “No,” she said. The word stuck in her throat, the merest whisper.

He must have heard her. “It’s a mercy,” he said. “He’s dead already.”

“No,” Catelyn said, louder now as she found her voice again. “No, you can’t.” She spun back toward the window to scream for help, but the man moved faster than she would have believed. One hand clamped down over her mouth and yanked back her head, the other brought the dagger up to her windpipe. The stench of him was overwhelming.

She reached up with both hands and grabbed the blade with all her strength, pulling it away from her throat. She heard him cursing into her ear. Her fingers were slippery with blood, but she would not let go of the dagger. The hand over her mouth clenched more tightly, shutting off her air. Catelyn twisted her head to the side and managed to get a piece of his flesh between her teeth. She bit down hard into his palm. The man grunted in pain. She ground her teeth together and tore at him, and all of a sudden he let go. The taste of his blood filled her mouth. She sucked in air and screamed, and he grabbed her hair and pulled her away from him, and she stumbled and went down, and then he was standing over her, breathing hard, shaking. The dagger was still clutched tightly in his right hand, slick with blood. “You weren’t s’posed to be here,” he repeated stupidly.

Catelyn saw the shadow slip through the open door behind him. There was a low rumble, less than a snarl, the merest whisper of a threat, but he must have heard something, because he started to turn just as the wolf made its leap. They went down together, half sprawled over Catelyn where she’d fallen. The wolf had him under the jaw. The man’s shriek lasted less than a second before the beast wrenched back its head, taking out half his throat.

His blood felt like warm rain as it sprayed across her face.

The wolf was looking at her. Its jaws were red and wet and its eyes glowed golden in the dark room. It was Bran’s wolf, she realized. Of course it was. “Thank you,” Catelyn whispered, her voice faint and tiny. She lifted her hand, trembling. The wolf padded closer, sniffed at her fingers, then licked at the blood with a wet rough tongue. When it had cleaned all the blood off her hand, it turned away silently and jumped up on Bran’s bed and lay down beside him. Catelyn began to laugh hysterically.

That was the way they found them, when Robb and Maester Luwin and Ser Rodrik burst in with half the guards in Winterfell. When the laughter finally died in her throat, they wrapped her in warm blankets and led her back to the Great Keep, to her own chambers. Old Nan undressed her and helped her into a scalding hot bath and washed the blood off her with a soft cloth.

Afterward Maester Luwin arrived to dress her wounds. The cuts in her fingers went deep, almost to the bone, and her scalp was raw and bleeding where he’d pulled out a handful of hair. The maester told her the pain was just starting now, and gave her milk of the poppy to help her sleep.

Finally she closed her eyes.

When she opened them again, they told her that she had slept four days. Catelyn nodded and sat up in bed. It all seemed like a nightmare to her now, everything since Bran’s fall, a terrible dream of blood and grief, but she had the pain in her hands to remind her that it was real. She felt weak and lightheaded, yet strangely resolute, as if a great weight had lifted from her.

“Bring me some bread and honey,” she told her servants, “and take word to Maester Luwin that my bandages want changing.” They looked at her in surprise and ran to do her bidding.

Catelyn remembered the way she had been before, and she was ashamed. She had let them all down, her children, her husband, her House. It would not happen again. She would show these northerners how strong a Tully of Riverrun could be.

Robb arrived before her food. Rodrik Cassel came with him, and her husband’s ward Theon Greyjoy, and lastly Hallis Mollen, a muscular guardsman with a square brown beard. He was the new captain of the guard, Robb said. Her son was dressed in boiled leather and ringmail, she saw, and a sword hung at his waist.

“Who was he?” Catelyn asked them.

“No one knows his name,” Hallis Mollen told her. “He was no man of Winterfell, m’lady, but some says they seen him here and about the castle these past few weeks.”

“One of the king’s men, then,” she said, “or one of the Lannisters’. He could have waited behind when the others left.”

“Maybe,” Hal said. “With all these strangers filling up Winterfell of late, there’s no way of saying who he belonged to.”

“He’d been biding in your stables,” Greyjoy said. “You could smell it on him.” “And how could he go unnoticed?” she said sharply.

Hallis Mollen looked abashed. “Between the horses Lord Eddard took south and them we sent north to the Night’s Watch, the stalls were half-empty. It were no great trick to hide from the stable boys. Could be Hodor saw him, the talk is that boy’s been acting queer, but simple as he is . . .” Hal shook his head.

“We found where he’d been sleeping,” Robb put in. “He had ninety silver stags in a leather bag buried beneath the straw.”

“It’s good to know my son’s life was not sold cheaply,” Catelyn said bitterly.

Hallis Mollen looked at her, confused. “Begging your grace, m’lady, you saying he was out to kill your boy?”

Greyjoy was doubtful. “That’s madness.”

“He came for Bran,” Catelyn said. “He kept muttering how I wasn’t supposed to be there. He set the library fire thinking I would rush to put it out, taking any guards with me. If I hadn’t been half-mad with grief, it would have worked.”

“Why would anyone want to kill Bran?” Robb said. “Gods, he’s only a little boy, helpless, sleeping . . .”

Catelyn gave her firstborn a challenging look. “If you are to rule in the north, you must think these things through, Robb. Answer your own question. Why would anyone want to kill a sleeping child?”

Before he could answer, the servants returned with a plate of food fresh from the kitchen. There was much more than she’d asked for: hot bread, butter and honey and blackberry preserves, a rasher of bacon and a soft-boiled egg, a wedge of cheese, a pot of mint tea. And with it came Maester Luwin.

“How is my son, Maester?” Catelyn looked at all the food and found she had no appetite. Maester Luwin lowered his eyes. “Unchanged, my lady.”

It was the reply she had expected, no more and no less. Her hands throbbed with pain, as if the blade were still in her, cutting deep. She sent the servants away and looked back to Robb. “Do you have the answer yet?”

“Someone is afraid Bran might wake up,” Robb said, “afraid of what he might say or do, afraid of something he knows.”

Catelyn was proud of him. “Very good.” She turned to the new captain of the guard. “We must keep Bran safe. If there was one killer, there could be others.”

“How many guards do you want, m’lady?” Hal asked.

“So long as Lord Eddard is away, my son is the master of Winterfell,” she told him.

Robb stood a little taller. “Put one man in the sickroom, night and day, one outside the door, two at the bottom of the stairs. No one sees Bran without my warrant or my mother’s.”

“As you say, m’lord.”

“Do it now,” Catelyn suggested.

“And let his wolf stay in the room with him,” Robb added. “Yes,” Catelyn said. And then again: “Yes.”

Hallis Mollen bowed and left the room.

“Lady Stark,” Ser Rodrik said when the guardsman had gone, “did you chance to notice the dagger the killer used?”

“The circumstances did not allow me to examine it closely, but I can vouch for its edge,” Catelyn replied with a dry smile. “Why do you ask?”

“We found the knife still in the villain’s grasp. It seemed to me that it was altogether too fine a weapon for such a man, so I looked at it long and hard. The blade is Valyrian steel, the hilt dragonbone. A weapon like that has no business being in the hands of such as him. Someone gave it to him.”

Catelyn nodded, thoughtful. “Robb, close the door.” He looked at her strangely, but did as she told him.

“What I am about to tell you must not leave this room,” she told them. “I want your oaths on that. If even part of what I suspect is true, Ned and my girls have ridden into deadly danger, and a word in the wrong ears could mean their lives.”

“Lord Eddard is a second father to me,” said Theon Greyjoy. “I do so swear.” “You have my oath,” Maester Luwin said.

“And mine, my lady,” echoed Ser Rodrik.

She looked at her son. “And you, Robb?”

He nodded his consent.

“My sister Lysa believes the Lannisters murdered her husband, Lord Arryn, the Hand of the King,” Catelyn told them. “It comes to me that Jaime Lannister did not join the hunt the day Bran fell. He remained here in the castle.” The room was deathly quiet. “I do not think Bran fell from that tower,” she said into the stillness. “I think he was thrown.”

The shock was plain on their faces. “My lady, that is a monstrous suggestion,” said Rodrik Cassel. “Even the Kingslayer would flinch at the murder of an innocent child.”

“Oh, would he?” Theon Greyjoy asked. “I wonder.”

“There is no limit to Lannister pride or Lannister ambition,” Catelyn said.

“The boy had always been sure handed in the past,” Maester Luwin said thoughtfully. “He knew every stone in Winterfell.”

“Gods, “ Robb swore, his young face dark with anger. “If this is true, he will pay for it.” He drew his sword and waved it in the air. “I’ll kill him myself!”

Ser Rodrik bristled at him. “Put that away! The Lannisters are a hundred leagues away. Never draw your sword unless you mean to use it. How many times must I tell you, foolish boy?”

Abashed, Robb sheathed his sword, suddenly a child again. Catelyn said to Ser Rodrik, “I see my son is wearing steel now.”

The old master-at-arms said, “I thought it was time.”

Robb was looking at her anxiously. “Past time,” she said. “Winterfell may have need of all its swords soon, and they had best not be made of wood.”

Theon Greyjoy put a hand on the hilt of his blade and said, “My lady, if it comes to that, my House owes yours a great debt.”

Maester Luwin pulled at his chain collar where it chafed against his neck. “All we have is conjecture. This is the queen’s beloved brother we mean to accuse. She will not take it kindly. We must have proof, or forever keep silent.”

“Your proof is in the dagger,” Ser Rodrik said. “A fine blade like that will not have gone unnoticed.”

There was only one place to find the truth of it, Catelyn realized. “Someone must go to King’s Landing.”

“I’ll go,” Robb said.

“No,” she told him. “Your place is here. There must always be a Stark in Winterfell.” She looked at Ser Rodrik with his great white whiskers, at Maester Luwin in his grey robes, at young Greyjoy, lean and dark and impetuous. Who to send? Who would be believed? Then she knew. Catelyn struggled to push back the blankets, her bandaged fingers as stiff and unyielding as stone. She climbed out of bed. “I must go myself.”

“My lady,” said Maester Luwin, “is that wise? Surely the Lannisters would greet your arrival with suspicion.”

“What about Bran?” Robb asked. The poor boy looked utterly confused now. “You can’t mean to leave him.”

“I have done everything I can for Bran,” she said, laying a wounded hand on his arm. “His life is in the hands of the gods and Maester Luwin. As you reminded me yourself, Robb, I have other children to think of now.”

“You will need a strong escort, my lady,” Theon said. “I’ll send Hal with a squad of guardsmen,” Robb said.

“No,” Catelyn said. “A large party attracts unwelcome attention. I would not have the Lannisters know I am coming.”

Ser Rodrik protested. “My lady, let me accompany you at least. The kingsroad can be perilous for a woman alone.”

“I will not be taking the kingsroad,” Catelyn replied. She thought for a moment, then nodded her consent. “Two riders can move as fast as one, and a good deal faster than a long column burdened by wagons and wheelhouses. I will welcome your company, Ser Rodrik. We will follow the White Knife down to the sea, and hire a ship at White Harbor. Strong horses and brisk winds should bring us to King’s Landing well ahead of Ned and the Lannisters.” And then, she thought, we shall see what we shall see.

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