grrm.astormofswords-第103部分

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　〃Bronn；　tell　the　boy　what　you　see。〃
　Bronn　looked　very　much　the　knight　today；　in　his　new　doublet　and　cloak；　the　flaming　chain　across　his　chest。　〃A　red　sun　on　orange；〃　he　called；　〃with　a　spear　through　its　back。〃
　〃Martell；〃　Podrick　Payne　said　at　once；　visibly　relieved。　〃House　Martell　of　Sunspear；　my　lord。　The　Prince　of　Dome。〃
　〃My　horse　would　have　known　that　one；〃　said　Tyrion　dryly。　〃Give　him　another；　Bronn。〃
　〃There's　a　purple　flag　with　yellow　balls。
　〃Lemons？〃　Pod　said　hopefully。　〃A　purple　fleld　strewn　with　lemons？　For　House　Dalt？　Of；　of　Lemonwood。〃
　〃Might　be。　Next's　a　big　black　bird　on　yellow。　Something　pink　or　white　in　its　claws；　hard　to　say　with　the　banner　flapping。〃
　〃The　vulture　of　Blackmont　grasps　a　baby　in　its　talons；〃　said　Pod。　〃House　Blackmont　of　Blackmont；　ser。〃
　Bronn　laughed。　〃Reading　books　again？　Books　will　ruin　your　sword　eye；　boy。　I　see　a　skull　too。　A　black　banner。〃
　〃The　crowned　skull　of　House　Manwoody；　bone　and　gold　on　black。〃　Pod　sounded　more　confident　with　every　correct　answer。　〃The　Manwoodys　of　Kingsgrave。〃
　〃Three　black　spiders？〃
　〃They're　scorpions；　ser。　House　Qorgyle　of　Sandstone；　three　scorpions　black　on　red。〃
　〃Red　and　yellow；　a　jagged　line　between。〃
　〃The　flames　of　Hellholt。　House　Uller。〃
　Tyrion　was　impressed。　The　boy's　not　half　stupid；　once　he　gets　his　tongue　untied。　〃Go　on；　Pod；〃　he　urged。　〃If　you　get　them　all；　I'll　make　you　a　gift。〃
　〃A　pie　with　red　and　black　slices；〃　said　Bronn。　〃There's　a　gold　hand　in　the　middle。〃
　〃House　Allyrion　of　Godsgrace。〃
　〃A　red　chicken　eating　a　snake；　looks　like。〃
　〃The　Gargalens　of　Salt　Shore。　A　cockatrice。　Ser。　Pardon。　Not　a　chicken。　Red；　with　a　black　snake　in　its　beak。〃
　〃Very　good！〃　exclaimed　Tyrion。　〃One　more；　lad。〃
　Bronn　scanned　the　ranks　of　the　approaching　Domishmen。　〃The　last's　a　golden　feather　on　green　checks。〃
　〃A　golden　quill；　ser。　Jordayne　of　the　Tor。〃
　Tyrion　laughed。　〃Nine；　and　well　done。　I　could　not　have　named　them　all　myself。〃　That　was　a　lie；　but　it　would　give　the　boy　some　pride；　and　that　he　badly　needed。
　Martell　brings　some　formidable　panions；　it　would　seem。　Not　one　of　the　houses　Pod　had　named　was　small　or　insignificant。　Nine　of　the　greatest　lords　of　Dorne　were　ing　up　the　kingsroad；　them　or　their　heirs；　and　somehow　Tyrion　did　not　think　they　had　e　all　this　way　just　to　see　the　dancing　bear。　There　was　a　message　here。　And　not　one　I　like。　He　wondered　if　it　had　been　a　mistake　to　ship　Myrcella　down　to　Sunspear。
　〃My　lord；〃　Pod　said；　a　little　timidly；　〃there's　no　litter。〃
　Tyrion　turned　his　head　sharply。　The　boy　was　right。
　〃Doran　Martell　always　travels　in　a　litter；〃　the　boy　said。　〃A　carved　litter　with　silk　hangings；　and　suns　on　the　drapes。〃
　Tyrion　had　heard　the　same　talk。　Prince　Doran　was　past　fifty；　and　gouty。　He　may　have　wanted　to　make　faster　time；　he　told　himself。　He　may　have　feared　his　litter　would　make　too　tempting　a　target　for　brigands；　or　that　it　would　prove　too　cumbersome　in　the　high　passes　of　the　Boneway。　Perhaps　his　gout　is　better。
　So　why　did　he　have　such　a　bad　feeling　about　this？
　This　waiting　was　intolerable。　〃Banners　forward；〃　he　snapped。　〃We'll　meet　them。〃　He　kicked　his　horse。　Bronn　and　Pod　followed；　one　to　either　side。　When　the　Dornishmen　saw　them　ing；　they　spurred　their　own　mounts；　banners　rippling　as　they　rode。　From　their　ornate　saddles　were　slung　the　round　metal　shields　they　favored；　and　many　carried　bundles　of　short　throwing　spears；　or　the　double…curved　Dornish　bows　they　used　so　well　from　horseback。
　There　were　three　sorts　of　Dornishmen；　the　first　King　Daeron　had　observed。　There　were　the　salty　Dornishmen　who　lived　along　the　coasts；　the　sandy　Dornishmen　of　the　deserts　and　long　river　valleys；　and　the　stony　Dornishmen　who　made　their　fastnesses　in　the　passes　and　heights　of　the　Red　Mountains。　The　salty　Domishmen　had　the　most　Rhoynish　blood；　the　stony　Dornishmen　the　least。
　All　three　sorts　seemed　well　represented　in　Doran's　retinue。　The　salty　Dornishmen　were　lithe　and　dark；　with　smooth　olive　skin　and　long　black　hair　streaming　in　the　wind。　The　sandy　Dornishmen　were　even　darker；　their　faces　burned　brown　by　the　hot　Dornish　sun。　They　wound　long　bright　scarfs　around　their　helms　to　ward　off　sunstroke。　The　stony　Dornishmen　were　biggest　and　fairest；　sons　of　the　Andals　and　the　First　Men；　brownhaired　or　blond；　with　faces　that　freckled　or　burned　in　the　sun　instead　of　browning。
　The　lords　wore　silk　and　satin　robes　with　jeweled　belts　and　flowing　sleeves。　Their　armor　was　heavily　enameled　and　inlaid　with　burnished　copper；　shining　silver；　and　soft　red　gold。　They　came　astride　red　horses　and　golden　ones　and　a　few　as　pale　as　snow；　all　slim　and　swift；　with　long　necks　and　narrow　beautiful　heads。　The　fabled　sand　steeds　of　Dome　were　smaller　than　proper　warhorses　and　could　not　bear　such　weight　of　armor；　but　it　was　said　that　they　could　run　for　a　day　and　night　and　another　day；　and　never　tire。
　The　Domish　leader　forked　a　stallion　black　as　sin　with　a　mane　and　tail　the　color　of　fire。　He　sat　his　saddle　as　if　he'd　been　born　there；　tall；　slim；　graceful。　A　cloak　of　pale　red　silk　fluttered　from　his　shoulders；　and　his　shirt　was　armored　with　overlapping　rows　of　copper　disks　that　glittered　like　a　thousand　bright　new　pennies　as　he　rode。　His　high　gilded　helm　displayed　a　copper　sun　on　its　brow；　and　the　round　shield　slung　behind　him　bore　the　sun…and…spear　of　House　Martell　on　its　polished　metal　surface。
　A　Martell　sun；　but　ten　years　too　young；　Tyrion　thought　as　he　reined　up；　too　fit　as　well；　and　far　too　fierce。　He　knew　what　he　must　deal　with　by　then。　How　many　Dornishmen　does　it　take　to　start　a　war？　he　asked　himself。　Only　one。　Yet　he　had　no　choice　but　to　smile。　〃Well　met；　my　lords。　We　had　word　of　your　approach；　and　His　Grace　King　Joffrey　bid　me　ride　out　to　wele　you　in　his　name。　My　lord　father　the　King's　Hand　sends　his　greetings　as　well。〃　He　feigned　an　amiable　confusion。　〃Which　of　you　is　Prince　Doran？〃
　〃My　brother's　health　requires　he　remain　at　Sunspear。〃　The　princeling　removed　his　helm。　Beneath；　his　face　was　lined　and　saturnine；　with　thin　arched　brows　above　large　eyes　as　black　and　shiny　as　pools　of　coal　oil。　Only　a　few　streaks　of　silver　marred　the　lustrous　black　hair　that　receded　from　his　brow　in　a　widow's　peak　as　sharply　pointed　as　his　nose。　A　salty　Dornishmen　for　certain。　〃Prince　Doran　has　sent　me　to　join　King　Joffrey's　council　in　his　stead；　as　it　please　His　Grace。〃
　〃His　Grace　will　be　most　honored　to　have　the　counsel　of　a　warrior　as　renowned　as　Prince　Oberyn　of　Dome；〃　said　Tyrion；　thinking；　This　will　mean　blood　in　the　gutters。　〃And　your　noble　panions　are　most　wele　as　well。〃
　〃Permit　me　to　acquaint　you　with　them；　my　lord　of　Lannister。　Ser　Deziel　Dalt；　of　Lemonwood。　Lord　Tremond　Gargalen。　Lord　Harmen　Uller　and　his　brother　Ser　Ulwyck。　Ser　Ryon　Allyrion　and　his　natural　son　Ser　Daemon　Sand；　the　Bastard　of　Godsgrace。　Lord　Dagos　Manwoody；　his　brother　Ser　Myles；　his　sons　Mors　and　Dickon。　Ser　Arron　Qorgyle。　And　never　let　it　be　thought　that　I　would　neglect　the　ladies。　Myria　Jordayne；　heir　to　the　Tor。　Lady　Larra　Blackmont；　her　daughter　Jynessa；　her　son　Perros。〃　He　raised　a　slender　hand　toward　a　black…haired　woman　to　the　rear；　beckoning　her　forward。　〃And　this　is　Ellaria　Sand；　mine　own　paramour。〃
　Tyrion　swallowed　a　groan。　His　paramour；　and　bastard…born；　Cersei　will　pitch　a　holy　fit　if　he　wants　her　at　the　wedding。　If　she　consigned　the　woman　to　some　dark　corner　below　the　salt；　his　sister　would　risk　the　Red　Viper's　wrath。　Seat　her　beside　him　at　the　high　table；　and　every　other　lady　on　the　dais　was　like　to　take　offense。　Did　Prince　Doran　mean　to　provoke　a　quarrel？
　Prince　Oberyn　wheeled　his　horse　about　to　face　his　fellow　Domishmen。　〃Ellaria；　lords　and　ladies；　sers；　see　how　well　King　Joffrey　loves　us。　His　Grace　has　been　so　kind　as　to　send　his　own　Uncle　Imp　to　bring　us　to　his　court。〃
　Bronn　snorted　back　laughter；　and　Tyrion　perforce　must　feign　amusement　as　well。　〃Not　alone；　my　lords。　That　would　be　too　enormous　a　task　for　a　little　man　like　me。〃　His　own　party　had　e　up　on　them；　so　it　was　his　turn　to　name　the　names。　〃Let　me　present　Ser　Flement　Brax；　heir　to　Homvale。　Lord　Gyles　of　Rosby。　Ser　Addam　Marbrand；　Lord　mander　of　the　City　Watch。　jalabhar　Xho；　Prince　of　the　Red　Flower　Vale。　Ser　Harys　Swyft；　my　uncle　Kevan's　good　father　by　marriage。　Ser　Merlon　Crakehall。　Ser　Philip　Foote　and　Ser　Bronn　of　the　Blackwater；　two　heroes　of　our　recent　battle　against　the　rebel　Stannis　Baratheon。　And　mine　own　squire；　young　Podrick　of　House　Payne。〃　The　names　had　a　nice　ringing　sound　as　Tyrion　reeled　them　off；　but　the　bearers　were　nowise　near　as　distinguished　nor　formidable　a　pany　as　those　who　acpanied　Prince　Oberyn；　as　both　of　them　knew　full　well。
　〃My　lord　of　Lannister；〃　said　Lady　Blackmont；　〃we　have　e　a　long　dusty　way；　and　rest　and　refreshment　would　be　most　wele。　Might　we　continue　on　to　the　city？〃
　〃At　once；　my　lady。〃　Tyrion　turned　his　horse's　head；　and　called　to　Ser　Addam　Marbrand。　The　mounted　gold　cloaks　who　formed　the　greatest　part　of　his　honor　guard　turned　their　horses　crisply　at　Ser　Addam's　mand；　and　the　column　set　off　for　the　river　and　King's　Landing　beyond。
　Oberyn　Nymeros　Martell；　Tyrion　muttered　under　his　breath　as　he　fell　in　beside　the　man。　The　Red　Viper　of　Dorne。　And　what　in　the　seven　hells　am　I　supposed　to　do　with　him？
　He　knew　the　man　only　by　reputation；　to　be　sure　。　。　。　but　the　reputation　was　fearsome。　When　he　was　no　more　than　sixteen；　Prince　Oberyn　had　been　found　abed　with　the　paramour　of　old　Lord　Yronwood；　a　huge　man　of　fierce　repute　and　short　temper。　A　duel　ensued；　though　in　view　of　the　prince's　youth　and　high　birth；　it　was　only　to　first　blood。　Both　men　took　cuts；　and　honor　was　satisfied。　Yet　Prince　Oberyn　soon　recovered；　while　Lord　Yronwood's　wounds　festered　and　killed　him。　Afterward　men　whispered　that　Oberyn　had　fought　with　a　poisoned　sword；　and　ever　thereafter　friends　and　foes　alike　called　him　the　Red　Viper。
　That　was　many　years　ago；　to　be　sure。　The　boy　of　sixteen　was　a　man　past　forty　now；　and　his　legend　had　grown　a　deal　darker。　He　had　traveled　in　the　Free　Cities；　leaming　the　poisoner's　trade　and　perhaps　arts　darker　still；　if　rumors　could　be　believed。　He　had　studied　at　the　Citadel；　going　so　far　as　to　forge　six　links　of　a　maester's　chain　before　he　grew　bored。　He　had　soldiered　in　the　Disputed　Lands　across　the　narrow　sea；　riding　w