grrm.astormofswords-第87部分

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　〃The　Tyrells　would　think　us　niggardly。　I　will　have　the　wedding　and　the　waterfront。　If　you　cannot　pay　for　them；　say　so；　and　I　shall　find　a　master　of　coin　who　can。〃
　The　disgrace　of　being　dismissed　after　so　short　a　time　was　not　something　Tyrion　cared　to　suffer。　〃I　will　find　your　money。〃
　〃You　will；〃　his　father　promised；　〃and　while　you　are　about　it；　see　if　you　can　find　your　wife's　bed　as　well。〃
　So　the　talk　has　reached　even　him。　〃I　have；　thank　you。　It's　that　piece　of　furniture　between　the　window　and　the　hearth；　with　the　velvet　canopy　and　the　mattress　stuffed　with　goose　down。〃
　〃I　am　pleased　you　know　of　it。　Now　perhaps　you　ought　to　try　and　know　the　woman　who　shares　it　with　you。〃
　Woman？　Child；　you　mean。　〃Has　a　spider　been　whispering　in　your　ear；　or　do　I　have　my　sweet　sister　to　thank？〃　Considering　the　things　that　went　on　beneath　Cersei's　blankets；　you　would　think　she'd　have　the　decency　to　keep　her　nose　out　of　his。　〃Tell　me；　why　is　it　that　all　of　Sansa's　maids　arc　women　in　Cersei's　service？　I　am　sick　of　being　spied　upon　in　my　own　chambers。〃
　〃If　you　mislike　your　wife's　servants；　dismiss　them　and　hire　ones　more　to　your　liking。　That　is　your　right。　it　is　your　wife's　maidenhood　that　concerns　me；　not　her　maids。　This　。　。　。　delicacy　puzzles　me。　You　seem　to　have　no　difficulty　bedding　whores。　Is　the　Stark　girl　made　differently？〃
　〃Why　do　you　take　so　much　bloody　interest　in　where　I　put　my　cock？〃　Tyrion　demanded。　〃Sansa　is　too　young。〃
　〃She　is　old　enough　to　be　Lady　of　Winterfell　once　her　brother　is　dead。　Claim　her　maidenhood　and　you　will　be　one　step　closer　to　claiming　the　north。　Get　her　with　child；　and　the　prize　is　all　but　won。　Do　I　need　to　remind　you　that　a　marriage　that　has　not　been　consummated　can　be　set　aside？〃
　〃By　the　High　Septon　or　a　Council　of　Faith。　Our　present　High　Septon　is　a　trained　seal　who　barks　prettily　on　mand。　Moon　Boy　is　more　like　to　annul　my　marriage　than　he　is。〃
　〃Perhaps　I　should　have　married　Sansa　Stark　to　Moon　Boy。　He　might　have　known　what　to　do　with　her。〃
　Tyrion's　hands　clenched　on　the　arms　of　his　chair。　〃I　have　heard　all　I　mean　to　hear　on　the　subject　of　my　wife's　maidenhead。　But　so　long　as　we　are　discussing　marriage；　why　is　it　that　I　hear　nothing　of　my　sister's　impending　nuptials？　As　I　recall…〃
　Lord　Tywin　cut　him　off。　〃Mace　Tyrell　has　refused　my　offer　to　marry　Cersei　to　his　heir　Willas。〃
　〃Refused　our　sweet　Cersei？〃　That　put　Tyrion　in　a　much　better　mood。
　〃When　I　first　broached　the　match　to　him；　Lord　Tyrell　seemed　well　enough　disposed；〃　his　father　said。　〃A　day　later；　all　was　changed。　The　old　woman's　work。　She　hectors　her　son　unmercifully。　Varys　claims　she　told　him　that　your　sister　was　too　old　and　too　used　for　this　precious　one…legged　grandson　of　hers。〃
　〃Cersei　must　have　loved　that。〃　He　laughed。
　Lord　Tywin　gave　him　a　chilly　look。　〃She　does　not　know。　Nor　will　she。　It　is　better　for　all　of　us　if　the　offer　was　never　made。　See　that　you　remember　that；　Tyrion。　The　offer　was　never　made。〃
　〃What　offer？〃　Tyrion　rather　suspected　that　Lord　Tyrell　might　e　to　regret　this　rebuff。
　〃Your　sister　will　be　wed。　The　question　is；　to　whom？　I　have　several　thoughts…〃　Before　he　could　get　to　them；　there　was　a　rap　at　the　door　and　a　guardsman　stuck　in　his　head　to　announce　Grand　Maester　Pycelle。　〃He　may　enter；〃　said　Lord　Tywin。
　Pycelle　tottered　in　on　a　cane；　and　stopped　long　enough　to　give　Tyrion　a　look　that　would　curdle　milk。　His　once…magnificent　white　beard；　which　someone　had　unaccountably　shaved　off；　was　growing　back　sparse　and　wispy；　leaving　him　with　unsightly　pink　wattles　to　dangle　beneath　his　neck。　〃My　lord　Hand；〃　the　old　man　said；　bowing　as　deeply　as　he　could　without　falling；　〃there　has　been　another　bird　from　Castle　Black。　Mayhaps　we　could　consult　privily？〃
　〃There's　no　need　for　that。〃　Lord　Tywin　waved　Grand　Maester　Pycelle　to　a　seat。　〃Tyrion　may　stay。〃
　Oooooh；　may　R　He　rubbed　his　nose；　and　waited。
　Pycelle　cleared　his　throat；　which　involved　a　deal　of　coughing　and　hawking。　〃The　letter　is　from　the　same　Bowen　Marsh　who　sent　the　last。　The　castellan。　He　writes　that　Lord　Mormont　has　sent　word　of　wildlings　moving　south　in　vast　numbers。〃
　〃The　lands　beyond　the　Wall　cannot　support　vast　numbers；〃　said　Lord　Tywin　firmly。　〃This　warning　is　not　new。〃
　〃This　last　is；　my　lord。　Mormont　sent　a　bird　from　the　haunted　forest；　to　report　that　he　was　under　attack。　More　ravens　have　returned　since；　but　none　with　letters。　This　Bowen　Marsh　fears　Lord　Mormont　slain；　with　all　his　strength。〃
　Tyrion　had　rather　liked　old　Jeor　Mormont；　with　his　gruff　manner　and　talking　bird。　〃Is　this　certain？〃　he　asked。
　〃It　is　not；〃　Pycelle　admitted；　〃but　none　of　Mormont's　men　have　returned　as　yet。　Marsh　fears　the　wildlings　have　killed　them；　and　that　the　Wall　itself　may　be　attacked　next。〃　He　fumbled　in　his　robe　and　found　the　paper。　〃Here　is　his　letter；　my　lord；　a　plea　to　all　five　kings。　He　wants　men；　as　many　men　as　we　can　send　him。〃
　〃Five　kings？〃　His　father　was　annoyed。　〃There　is　one　king　in　Westeros。　Those　fools　in　black　might　try　and　remember　that　if　they　wish　His　Grace　to　heed　them。　When　you　reply；　tell　him　that　Renly　is　dead　and　the　others　are　traitors　and　pretenders。〃
　〃No　doubt　they　will　be　glad　to　learn　it。　The　Wall　is　a　world　apart；　and　news　oft　reaches　them　late。〃　Pycelle　bobbed　his　head　up　and　down。　〃What　shall　I　tell　Marsh　concerning　the　men　he　begs　for？　Shall　we　convene　the　council　。　。　。
　〃There　is　no　need。　The　Night's　Watch　is　a　pack　of　thieves；　killers；　and　baseborn　churls；　but　it　occurs　to　me　that　they　could　prove　otherwise；　given　proper　discipline。　If　Mormont　is　indeed　dead；　the　black　brothers　must　choose　a　new　Lord　mander。〃
　Pycelle　gave　Tyrion　a　sly　glance。　〃An　excellent　thought；　my　lord。　I　know　the　very　man。　Janos　Slynt。〃
　Tyrion　liked　that　notion　not　at　all。　〃The　black　brothers　choose　their　own　mander；〃　he　reminded　them。　〃Lord　Slynt　is　new　to　the　Wall。　I　know；　I　sent　him　there。　Why　should　they　pick　him　over　a　dozen　more　senior　men？〃
　〃Because；〃　his　father　said；　in　a　tone　that　suggested　Tyrion　was　quite　the　simpleton；　〃if　they　do　not　vote　as　they　are　told；　their　Wall　will　melt　before　it　sees　another　man。〃
　Yes；　that　would　work。　Tyrion　hitched　forward。　〃Janos　Slynt　is　the　wrong　man；　Father。　We'd　do　better　with　the　mander　of　the　Shadow　Tower。　Or　Eastwatch…by…the…Sea。〃
　〃The　mander　of　the　Shadow　Tower　is　a　Mallister　of　Seagard。　Eastwatch　is　held　by　an　ironman。〃　Neither　would　serve　his　purposes；　Lord　Tywin's　tone　said　clear　enough。
　〃Janos　Slynt　is　a　butcher's　son；〃　Tyrion　reminded　his　father　forcefully。　〃You　yourself　told　me…〃
　〃I　recall　what　I　told　you。　Castle　Black　is　not　Harrenhal；　however。　The　Night's　Watch　is　not　the　king's　council。　There　is　a　tool　for　every　task；　and　a　task　for　every　tool。〃
　Tyrion's　anger　flashed。　〃Lord　Janos　is　a　hollow　suit　of　armor　who　will　sell　himself　to　the　highest　bidder。〃
　〃I　count　that　a　point　in　his　favor。　Who　is　like　to　bid　higher　than　us？〃　He　turned　to　Pycelle。　〃Send　a　raven。　Write　that　King　Joffrey　was　deeply　saddened　to　hear　of　Lord　mander　Mormont's　death；　but　regrets　that　he　can　spare　no　men　just　now；　whilst　so　many　rebels　and　usurpers　remain　in　the　field。　Suggest　that　matters　might　be　quite　different　once　the　throne　is　secure　。　。　。　provided　the　king　has　full　confidence　in　the　leadership　of　the　Watch。　In　closing；　ask　Marsh　to　pass　along　His　Grace's　fondest　regards　to　his　faithful　friend　and　servant　。；　Lord　Janos　Slynt。〃
　〃Yes；　my　lord。〃　Pycelle　bobbed　his　withered　head　once　more。　〃I　shall　write　as　the　Hand　mands。　With　great　pleasure。〃
　I　should　have　trimmed　his　head；　not　his　beard；　Tyrion　reflected。　And　Slynt　should　have　gone　for　a　swim　with　his　dear　friend　Allar　Deem。　At　least　he　had　not　made　the　same　foolish　mistake　with　Symon　Silver　Tongue。　See　there；　Father？　he　wanted　to　shout。　See　how　fast　I　learn　my　lessons？
　
　CHAPTER　33
　SAMWELL
　
　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。
　They'd　covered　poor　Barmen　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。
　〃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。〃
　〃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？〃
　Sam　cringed　at　the　name；　but　shook　his　head。　He　filled　another　spoon；　brought　it　to　Barmen's　mouth；　and　tried　to　ease　it　between　his　lips。
　〃Food　and　fire；〃　Giant　was　saying；　〃that　was　all　we　asked　of　you。　And　you　grudge　us　the　food。〃
　〃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。〃
　More　broth　ran　from　the　corner　of　Barmen'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　Barmen'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。
　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