grrm.astormofswords-第163部分

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　The　jousters　were　a　pair　of　dwarfs。　One　was　mounted　on　an　ugly　grey　dog；　long　of　leg　and　heavy　of　jaw。　The　other　rode　an　immense　spotted　sow。　Painted　wooden　armor　clattered　and　clacked　as　the　little　knights　bounced　up　and　down　in　their　saddles。　Their　shields　were　bigger　than　they　were；　and　they　wrestled　manfully　with　their　lances　as　they　clomped　along；　swaying　this　way　and　that　and　eliciting　gusts　of　mirth。　one　knight　was　all　in　gold；　with　a　black　stag　painted　on　his　shield；　the　other　wore　grey　and　white；　and　bore　a　wolf　device。　Their　mounts　were　barded　likewise。　Tyrion　glanced　along　the　dais　at　all　the　laughing　faces。　Joffrey　was　red　and　breathless；　Tornmen　was　hooting　and　hopping　up　and　down　in　his　seat；　Cersei　was　chuckling　politely；　and　even　Lord　Tywin　looked　mildly　amused。　Of　all　those　at　the　high　table；　only　Sansa　Stark　was　not　smiling。　He　could　have　loved　her　for　that；　but　if　truth　be　told　the　Stark　girl's　eyes　were　far　away；　as　if　she　had　not　even　seen　the　ludicrous　riders　loping　toward　her。
　The　dwarfs　are　not　to　blame；　Tyrion　decided。　When　they　are　done；　I　shall　pliment　them　and　give　them　a　fat　purse　of　silver。　And　e　the　morrow；　I　will　find　whoever　planned　this　little　diversion　and　arrange　for　a　different　sort　of　thanks。
　When　the　dwarfs　reined　up　beneath　the　dais　to　salute　the　king；　the　wolf　knight　dropped　his　shield。　As　he　leaned　over　to　grab　for　it；　the　stag　knight　lost　control　of　his　heavy　lance　and　slammed　him　across　the　back。　The　wolf　knight　fell　off　his　pig；　and　his　lance　tumbled　over　and　boinked　his　foe　on　the　head。　They　both　wound　up　on　the　floor　in　a　great　tangle。　When　they　rose；　both　tried　to　mount　the　dog。　Much　shouting　and　shoving　followed。　Finally　they　regained　their　saddles；　only　mounted　on　each　other's　steed；　holding　the　wrong　shield　and　facing　backward。
　It　took　some　time　to　sort　that　out；　but　in　the　end　they　spurred　to　opposite　ends　of　the　hall；　and　wheeled　about　for　the　tilt。　As　the　lords　and　ladies　guffawed　and　giggled；　the　little　men　came　together　with　a　crash　and　a　clatter；　and　the　wolf　knight's　lance　struck　the　helm　of　the　stag　knight　and　knocked　his　head　clean　off。　It　spun　through　the　air　spattering　blood　to　land　in　the　lap　of　Lord　Gyles。　The　headless　dwarf　careened　around　the　tables；　flailing　his　arms。　Dogs　barked；　women　shrieked；　and　Moon　Boy　made　a　great　show　of　swaying　perilously　back　and　forth　on　his　stilts；　until　Lord　Gyles　pulled　a　dripping　red　melon　out　of　the　shattered　helm；　at　which　point　the　stag　knight　poked　his　face　up　out　of　his　armor；　and　another　storm　of　laughter　rocked　the　hall。　The　knights　waited　for　it　to　die；　circled　around　each　other　trading　colorful　insults；　and　were　about　to　separate　for　another　joust　when　the　dog　threw　its　rider　to　the　floor　and　mounted　the　sow。　The　huge　pig　squealed　in　distress；　while　the　wedding　guests　squealed　with　laughter；　especially　when　the　stag　knight　leapt　onto　the　wolf　knight；　let　down　his　wooden　breeches；　and　started　to　pump　away　frantically　at　the　other's　nether　portions。
　〃I　yield；　I　yield；〃　the　dwarf　on　the　bottom　screamed。　〃Good　ser；　put　up　your　sword！〃
　〃I　would；　I　would；　if　you'll　stop　moving　the　sheath！〃　the　dwarf　on　the　top　replied；　to　the　merriment　of　all。
　Joffrey　was　snorting　wine　from　both　nostrils。　Gasping；　he　lurched　to　his　feet；　almost　knocking　over　his　tall　two…handed　chalice。　〃A　champion；〃　he　shouted。　〃We　have　a　champion！〃　The　hall　began　to　quiet　when　it　was　seen　that　the　king　was　speaking。　The　dwarfs　untangled；　no　doubt　anticipating　the　royal　thanks。　〃Not　a　true　champion；　though；〃　said　Joff。　〃A　true　champion　defeats　all　challengers。〃　The　king　climbed　up　on　the　table。　〃Who　else　will　challenge　our　tiny　champion？〃　With　a　gleeful　smile；　he　turned　toward　Tyrion。　〃Uncle！　You'll　defend　the　honor　of　my　realm；　won't　you？　You　can　ride　the　pig！〃
　The　laughter　crashed　over　him　like　a　wave。　Tyrion　Lannister　did　not　remember　rising；　nor　climbing　on　his　chair；　but　he　found　himself　standing　on　the　table。　The　hall　was　a　torchlit　blur　of　leering　faces。　He　twisted　his　face　into　the　most　hideous　mockery　of　a　smile　the　Seven　Kingdoms　had　ever　seen。　〃Your　Grace；〃　he　called；　〃I'll　ride　the　pig　。　。　。　but　only　if　you　ride　the　dog！〃
　Joff　scowled；　confused。　〃Me？　I'm　no　dwarf。　Why　me？〃
　Stepped　right　into　the　cut；　Joff　〃Why；　you're　the　only　man　in　the　hall　that　I'm　certain　of　defeating！〃
　He　could　not　have　said　which　was　sweeter；　the　instant　of　shocked　silence；　the　gale　of　laughter　that　followed；　or　the　look　of　blind　rage　on　his　nephew's　face。　The　dwarf　hopped　back　to　the　floor　well　satisfied；　and　by　the　time　he　looked　back　Ser　Osmund　and　Ser　Meryn　were　helping　Joff　climb　down　as　well。　When　he　noticed　Cersei　glaring　at　him；　Tyrion　blew　her　a　kiss。
　It　was　a　relief　when　the　musicians　began　to　play。　The　tiny　jousters　led　dog　and　sow　from　the　hall；　the　guests　returned　to　their　trenchers　of　brawn；　and　Tyrion　called　for　another　cup　of　wine。　But　suddenly　he　felt　Ser　Garlan's　hand　on　his　sleeve。　〃My　lord；　beware；〃　the　knight　warned。　〃The　king。〃
　Tyrion　turned　in　his　seat。　Joffrey　was　almost　upon　him；　red…faced　and　staggering；　wine　slopping　over　the　rim　of　the　great　golden　wedding　chalice　he　carried　in　both　hands。　〃Your　Grace；〃　was　all　he　had　time　to　say　before　the　king　upended　the　chalice　over　his　head。　The　wine　washed　down　over　his　face　in　a　red　torrent。　it　drenched　his　hair；　stung　his　eyes；　burned　in　his　wound；　ran　down　his　cheeks；　and　soaked　the　velvet　of　his　new　doublet。　〃How　do　you　like　that；　Imp？〃　Joffrey　mocked。
　Tyrion's　eyes　were　on　fire。　He　dabbed　at　his　face　with　the　back　of　a　sleeve　and　tried　to　blink　the　world　back　into　clarity。　〃That　was　ill　done；　Your　Grace；〃　he　heard　Ser　Garlan　say　quietly。
　〃Not　at　all；　Ser　Garlan。〃　Tyrion　dare　not　let　this　grow　any　uglier　than　it　was；　not　here；　with　half　the　realm　looking　on。　〃Not　every　king　would　think　to　honor　a　humble　subject　by　serving　him　from　his　own　royal　chalice。　A　pity　the　wine　spilled。〃
　〃It　didn't　spill；〃　said　Joffrey；　too　graceless　to　take　the　retreat　Tyrion　offered　him。　〃And　I　wasn't　serving　you；　either。〃
　Queen　Margaery　appeared　suddenly　at　Joffrey's　elbow。　〃My　sweet　king；〃　the　Tyrell　girl　entreated；　〃e；　return　to　your　place；　there's　another　singer　waiting。〃
　〃Alaric　of　Eysen；〃　said　Lady　Olenna　Tyrell；　leaning　on　her　cane　and　taking　no　more　notice　of　the　wine…soaked　dwarf　than　her　granddaughter　had　done。　〃I　do　so　hope　he　plays　us　'The　Rains　of　Castamere。'　It　has　been　an　hour；　I've　forgotten　how　it　goes。〃
　〃Ser　Addam　has　a　toast　he　wants　to　make　as　well；〃　said　Margaery。　〃Your　Grace；　please。〃
　〃I　have　no　wine；〃　Joffrey　declared。　〃How　can　I　drink　a　toast　if　I　have　no　wine？　Uncle　Imp；　you　can　serve　me。　Since　you　won't　joust　you'll　be　my　cupbearer。〃
　〃I　would　be　most　honored。〃
　〃It's　not　meant　to　be　an　honor！〃　Joffrey　screamed。　〃Bend　down　and　pick　up　my　chalice。〃　Tyrion　did　as　he　was　bid；　but　as　he　reached　for　the　handle　Joff　kicked　the　chalice　through　his　legs。　〃Pick　it　up！　Are　you　as　clumsy　as　you　are　ugly？〃　He　had　to　crawl　under　the　table　to　find　the　thing。　〃Good；　now　fill　it　with　wine。〃　He　claimed　a　flagon　from　a　serving　girl　and　filled　the　goblet　three…quarters　full。　〃No；　on　your　knees；　dwarf。〃　Kneeling；　Tyrion　raised　up　the　heavy　cup；　wondering　if　he　was　about　to　get　a　second　bath。　But　Joffrey　took　the　wedding　chalice　one…handed；　drank　deep；　and　set　it　on　the　table。　〃You　can　get　up　now；　Uncle。〃
　His　legs　cramped　as　he　tried　to　rise；　and　almost　spilled　him　again。　Tyrion　had　to　grab　hold　of　a　chair　to　steady　himself。　Ser　Garlan　lent　him　a　hand。　Joffrey　laughed；　and　Cersei　as　well。　Then　others。　He　could　not　see　who；　but　he　heard　them。
　〃Your　Grace。〃　Lord　Tywin's　voice　was　impeccably　correct。　〃They　are　bringing　in　the　pie。　Your　sword　is　needed。〃
　〃The　pie？〃　Joffrey　took　his　queen　by　the　hand。　〃e；　my　lady；　it's　the　pie。〃
　The　guests　stood；　shouting　and　applauding　and　smashing　their　wine　cups　together　as　the　great　pie　made　its　slow　way　down　the　length　of　the　hall；　wheeled　along　by　a　half…dozen　beaming　cooks。　Two　yards　across　it　was；　crusty　and　golden　brown；　and　they　could　hear　squeaks　and　thumpings　ing　from　inside　it。
　Tyrion　pulled　himself　back　into　his　chair。　All　he　needed　now　was　for　a　dove　to　shit　on　him　and　his　day　would　be　plete。　The　wine　had　soaked　through　his　doublet　and　smallclothes；　and　he　could　feel　the　wetness　against　his　skin。　He　ought　to　change；　but　no　one　was　permitted　to　leave　the　feast　until　the　time　came　for　the　bedding　ceremony。　That　was　still　a　good　twenty　or　thirty　dishes　off；　he　judged。
　King　Joffrey　and　his　queen　met　the　pie　below　the　dais。　As　Joff　drew　his　sword；　Margaery　laid　a　hand　on　his　arm　to　restrain　him。　〃Widow's　Wail　was　not　meant　for　slicing　pies。〃
　〃True。〃　Joffrey　lifted　his　voice。　〃Ser　Ilyn；　your　sword！〃
　From　the　shadows　at　the　back　of　the　hall；　Ser　Ilyn　Payne　appeared。　The　specter　at　the　feast；　thought　Tyrion　as　he　watched　the　King's　justice　stride　forward；　gaunt　and　grim。　He　had　been　too　young　to　have　known　Ser　Ilyn　before　he'd　lost　his　tongue。　He　would　have　been　a　different　man　in　those　days；　but　now　the　silence　is　as　much　a　part　of　him　as　those　hollow　eyes；　that　rusty　chainmail　shirt；　and　the　greatsword　on　his　back。
　Ser　Ilyn　bowed　before　the　king　and　queen；　reached　back　over　his　shoulder；　and　drew　forth　six　feet　of　ornate　silver　bright　with　runes。　He　knelt　to　offer　the　huge　blade　to　Joffrey；　hilt　first；　points　of　red　fire　winked　from　ruby　eyes　on　the　pommel；　a　chunk　of　dragonglass　carved　in　the　shape　of　a　grinning　skull。
　Sansa　stirred　in　her　seat。　〃What　sword　is　that？〃
　Tyrion's　eyes　still　stung　from　the　wine。　He　blinked　and　looked　again。　Ser　Ilyn's　greatsword　was　as　long　and　wide　as　Ice；　but　it　was　too　silverybright；　Valyrian　steel　had　a　darkness　to　it；　a　smokiness　in　its　soul。　Sansa　clutched　his　arm。　〃What　has　Ser　Ilyn　done　with　my　father's　sword？〃
　I　should　have　sent　Ice　back　to　Robb　Stark；　Tyrion　thought。　He　glanced　at　his　father；　but　Lord　Tywin　was　watching　the　king。
　Joffrey　and　Margaery　joined　hands　to　lift　the　greatsword　and　swung　it　down　together　in　a　silvery　arc。　When　the　piecrust　broke；　the　doves　burst　forth　in　a　swirl　of　white　feathers；　scattering　in　every　direction；　flapping　for　the　windows　and　the　rafters。　A　roar　of　delight　went　up　from　the　benches；　and　the　fiddlers　and　pipers　in　the　galler