Ⅱ 列王的纷争 Chapter61 提利昂
TYRION
头盔的眼缝限制了视线，提利昂只能看到正前方，但当他扭头，只见三艘战舰已靠在比武场，还有一艘大船，正在岸边用投石机抛射沥青火桶，以为掩护。
The slot in his helm limited Tyrion’s vision to what was before him, but when he turned his head he saw three galleys beached on the tourney grounds, and a fourth, larger than the others, standing well out into the river, firing barrels of burning pitch from a catapult.
提利昂的人从突击口鱼贯而出。“楔形队列，”他指示。突击队组成矛头，由他担任矛尖。曼登·穆尔爵士在他右手，一身釉彩白甲映着火光，木讷的双眼依旧无神。他跨下战马炭黑，披一身护体白甲，御林铁卫的纯白盾牌绑在手臂。而在左手，提利昂吃惊地发现波德瑞克·派恩提剑跟随。“你太小，”他立即喝道，“回去！”
“Wedge,” Tyrion commanded as his men streamed out of the sally port. They formed up in spearhead, with him at the point. Ser Mandon Moore took the place to his right, flames shimmering against the white enamel of his armor, his dead eyes shining passionlessly through his helm. He rode a coal-black horse barded all in white, with the pure white shield of the Kingsguard strapped to his arm. On the left, Tyrion was surprised to see Podrick Payne, a sword in his hand. “You’re too young,” he said at once. “Go back.”
“我是您的侍从，大人。”
“I’m your squire, my lord.”
提利昂没时间争论。“那就跟着我，跟紧了！”语毕踢马出发。
Tyrion could spare no time for argument. “With me, then. Stay close.” He kicked his horse into motion.
大家骑得很近，膝盖抵膝盖，循高墙而行。曼登爵士高举乔佛里的旗帜，红金相间的战旗在风中飘荡，雄鹿与猛狮共舞。队伍绕过堡楼基部，行进速度逐步加快。箭矢从城上疾射而出，石块在头顶旋转翻飞，盲目地撞向地面和河流，粉碎钢铁与血肉。国王门就在前方，敌军蜂拥而上，奋力推动一根巨大的铁头黑橡木攻城锤。船上下来的弓箭手围在他们四周，只要城门楼边有人露面，即刻放箭去射。“长枪准备，”提利昂命令，同时开始冲刺。
They rode knee to knee, following the line of the looming walls. Joffrey’s standard streamed crimson and gold from Ser Mandon’s staff, stag and lion dancing hoof to paw. They went from a walk to a trot, wheeling wide around the base of the tower. Arrows darted from the city walls while stones spun and tumbled overhead, crashing down blindly onto earth and water, steel and flesh. Ahead loomed the King’s Gate and a surging mob of soldiers wrestling with a huge ram, a shaft of black oak with an iron head. Archers off the ships surrounded them, loosing their shafts at whatever defenders showed themselves on the gatehouse walls. “Lances,” Tyrion commanded. He sped to a canter.
地面潮湿滑溜，半是烂泥，半是血水。他的马在一具尸体上绊了一下，蹄子打滑，搅动烂泥，差一点令他在冲到敌人队伍之前便滚落马鞍，幸亏最后人马维持了平衡。城门下的敌军转过身来，匆忙应付这突如其来的冲击。提利昂举起战斧，呐喊道：“君临万岁！”众人高声应和。矛头阵形飞射而出，发出钢铁与丝绸的绵长尖啸，滚滚马蹄与犀利剑刃融汇火光。
The ground was sodden and slippery, equal parts mud and blood. His stallion stumbled over a corpse, his hooves sliding and churning the earth, and for an instant Tyrion feared his charge would end with him tumbling from the saddle before he even reached the foe, but somehow he and his horse both managed to keep their balance. Beneath the gate men were turning, hurriedly trying to brace for the shock. Tyrion lifted his axe and shouted, “King’s Landing!” Other voices took up the cry, and now the arrowhead flew, a long scream of steel and silk, pounding hooves and sharp blades kissed by fire.
曼登爵士在最后关头放平长枪，用乔佛里的旗帜刺穿了一个穿镶钉皮甲的敌人胸膛，并将来人提离地面，枪杆随即断裂。提利昂面前是个骑士，外衣上有只花环中的狐狸。他首先想到的是“佛罗伦”，第二个念头是“他没有头盔”。于是他用尽全身力气，加上马的惯性，抡起斧子劈向对方的脸，将他脑袋一分为二。碰撞的冲击令他肩膀麻痹。夏嘎若看见，一定会笑我，他边想边继续前进。
Ser Mandon dropped the point of his lance at the last possible instant, and drove Joffrey’s banner through the chest of a man in a studded jerkin, lifting him full off his feet before the shaft snapped. Ahead of Tyrion was a knight whose surcoat showed a fox peering through a ring of flowers. Florent was his first thought, but helmless ran a close second. He smashed the man in the face with all the weight of axe and arm and charging horse, taking off half his head. The shock of impact numbed his shoulder. Shagga would laugh at me, he thought, riding on.
一支矛砰然击中他的盾牌。波德在身边飞驰，砍向每一个经过的敌人。他隐约听见城墙上的人们在欢呼。攻城锤已被遗忘在烂泥地上，簇拥它的人要么逃走，要么转身战斗。提利昂策马撞倒一个弓箭手，从肩头到腋窝齐齐砍下一个长矛兵的胳膊，随后又在一顶剑鱼头盔上擦过一击。奔到攻城锤前，他的大红马人立起来，但曼登爵士的黑马却从身边一跃而过，爵士本人活如包裹白袍的死亡使者，剑到之处，手折头断，盾牌粉碎——不过，能带着完整无损的盾牌过河的敌人甚少就是了。
A spear thudded against his shield. Pod galloped beside him, slashing down at every foe they passed. Dimly, he heard cheers from the men on the walls. The battering ram crashed down into the mud, forgotten in an instant as its handlers fled or turned to fight. Tyrion rode down an archer, opened a spearman from shoulder to armpit, glanced a blow off a swordfish-crested helm. At the ram his big red reared but the black stallion leapt the obstacle smoothly and Ser Mandon flashed past him, death in snow-white silk. His sword sheared off limbs, cracked heads, broke shields asunder—though few enough of the enemy had made it across the river with shields intact.
提利昂最终还是催马越过了攻城锤。敌军正在溃逃。他左顾右盼，就是不见波德瑞克·派恩的踪影。猛然间，一支箭“咔哒”一声撞上面甲，离眼缝仅差一寸。他吃了一惊，险些落马。不能像个木桩似的待在原地，这好比胸甲上画靶子！
Tyrion urged his mount over the ram. Their foes were fleeing. He moved his head right to left and back again, but saw no sign of Podrick Payne. An arrow clattered against his cheek, missing his eye slit by an inch. His jolt of fear almost unhorsed him. If I’m to sit here like a stump, I had as well paint a target on my breastplate.
他策马在四散的尸体间游行。黑水河下游塞满燃烧的战舰躯壳，片片野火仍在水面漂浮，炽烈的绿焰旋转上升，直至二十尺之高。他们虽驱散了操作攻城锤的敌人，但河岸边处处都有厮杀。敌人从燃烧的舰船中蜂拥上岸，巴隆·史文和蓝赛尔的人正竭力抵抗。“去烂泥门！”他下令。
He spurred his horse back into motion, trotting over and around a scatter of corpses. Downriver, the Blackwater was jammed with the hulks of burning galleys. Patches of wildfire still floated atop the water, sending fiery green plumes swirling twenty feet into the air. They had dispersed the men on the battering ram, but he could see fighting all along the riverfront. Ser Balon Swann’s men, most like, or Lancel’s, trying to throw the enemy back into the water as they swarmed ashore off the burning ships. “We’ll ride for the Mud Gate,” he commanded.
曼登爵士喊道：“烂泥门！”于是他们再次出发。“君临万岁！”途中他的人此起彼伏地叫嚷，还有人喊“半人万岁！半人万岁！”真不知是谁教他们的。透过加衬垫的厚重钢盔，传来痛苦的嘶叫，火焰饥渴的劈啪声，颤抖的战号，嘹亮的铜喇叭。到处都是火。诸神慈悲，难怪猎狗吓坏了。他怕的是火……
Ser Mandon shouted, “The Mud Gate!” And they were off again. “King’s Landing!” his men cried raggedly, and “Halfman! Halfman!” He wondered who had taught them that. Through the steel and padding of his helm, he heard anguished screams, the hungry crackle of flame, the shuddering of warhorns, and the brazen blast of trumpets. Fire was everywhere. Gods be good, no wonder the Hound was frightened. It’s the flames he fears …
一声巨响回荡在黑水河上，有艘船被一块马大的石头扎扎实实地截为两段。这是我军还是敌军？烟雾弥漫，无法分辨。楔形队列已经散乱，每个人都各自为战。我该回去了，他一边这么想，一边继续往前骑。
A splintering crash rang across the Blackwater as a stone the size of a horse landed square amidships on one of the galleys. Ours or theirs? Through the roiling smoke, he could not tell. His wedge was gone; every man was his own battle now. I should have turned back, he thought, riding on.
手中的战斧越来越沉，身边只剩几个人，其余的要么死去要么逃散。他使劲拽马，迫使它始终向东。这匹大红马跟桑铎·克里冈一样不喜欢火，但好歹容易驾驭。
The axe was heavy in his fist. A handful still followed him, the rest dead or fled. He had to wrestle his stallion to keep his head to the east. The big destrier liked fire no more than Sandor Clegane had, but the horse was easier to cow.
许多敌人狼狈不堪地从河里爬出，身带烧伤，通体浴血，一边不住呛水，多数都快死去。他带着他的小队伍在他们中间穿行，给那些还能站起来的人一个利落的死亡。战争局限于眼缝之前，比他高出一倍的骑士若不拔腿逃窜，就得死于非命。他们变得如此渺小，如此惊恐。“兰尼斯特万岁！”他纵声高呼，大开杀戒，手臂一直到肘成了红色，在河面的光线照耀下泛着血光。他勒马直立，向着天上的群星一振战斧，只听众人狂喊：“半人万岁！半人万岁！”提利昂醉了。
Men were crawling from the river, men burned and bleeding, coughing up water, staggering, most dying. He led his troop among them, delivering quicker cleaner deaths to those strong enough to stand. The war shrank to the size of his eye slit. Knights twice his size fled from him, or stood and died. They seemed little things, and fearful. “Lannister!” he shouted, slaying. His arm was red to the elbow, glistening in the light off the river. When his horse reared again, he shook his axe at the stars and heard them call out “Halfman! Halfman!” Tyrion felt drunk.
这就是战斗狂热吧。詹姆从前经常描述，但他从未想过会亲身体验。时间变得含糊，变得缓慢，终至停顿，过去和将来一齐消失，惟有此情此景、此时此刻，而恐惧、思想、甚至身体都不复存在。“你感觉不到伤口的疼痛，感觉不到铠甲的沉重，感觉不到淌进眼睛的汗水。事实上，你不再感觉，不再思想，不再是你自己，只有战斗，只有对手，一个，下一个，再下一个。他们又累又怕，你则生龙活虎。纵然死亡就在身边，但你何惧他们缓慢的刀剑，轻舞欢歌，放声长笑。”战斗狂热。我只是个半人，陶醉在杀戮中，你们有本事就来杀我吧！
The battle fever. He had never thought to experience it himself, though Jaime had told him of it often enough. How time seemed to blur and slow and even stop, how the past and the future vanished until there was nothing but the instant, how fear fled, and thought fled, and even your body. “You don’t feel your wounds then, or the ache in your back from the weight of the armor, or the sweat running down into your eyes. You stop feeling, you stop thinking, you stop being you, there is only the fight, the foe, this man and then the next and the next and the next, and you know they are afraid and tired but you’re not, you’re alive, and death is all around you but their swords move so slowly, you can dance through them laughing.” Battle fever. I am half a man and drunk with slaughter, let them kill me if they can!
他们确实在试。又一个枪兵向他奔来。提利昂围着来人绕圈疾走，砍掉他的矛头，接着是手和胳膊。一个没了弓的弓箭手抓着箭像匕首一样戳来，大腿却被红马踢中，摔了个四脚朝天，提利昂哈哈大笑。他骑过插在烂泥地里的一面旗帜，上面有史坦尼斯的烈焰红心纹章，便一斧将旗杆砍为两截。一个骑士不知从哪儿冒出来，举起巨剑对着他的盾牌一下又一下猛砍，却不防被人用匕首偷袭，捅进了腋窝下。救他的应该是他的手下，但提利昂根本没看清。
They tried. Another spearman ran at him. Tyrion lopped off the head of his spear, then his hand, then his arm, trotting around him in a circle. An archer, bowless, thrust at him with an arrow, holding it as if it were a knife. The destrier kicked at the man’s thigh to send him sprawling, and Tyrion barked laughter. He rode past a banner planted in the mud, one of Stannis’s fiery hearts, and chopped the staff in two with a swing of his axe. A knight rose up from nowhere to hack at his shield with a two-handed greatsword, again and again, until someone thrust a dagger under his arm. One of Tyrion’s men, perhaps. He never saw.
“我投降，爵士，”远处河边另一位骑士大喊。“我投降。骑士先生，我向您投降。这是我的保证，给，给。”那人躺在黑水坑中，扔来一只龙虾护手，以为臣服。提利昂正俯身去拾，又一罐野火在头顶爆炸，绿焰四散，在刹那的强光照映下，他发现坑里不是黑水，而是鲜血，而那手套中有骑士的手。他把它丢回去。“投降，”对方无助而绝望地抽泣。提利昂掉马走开。
“I yield, ser,” a different knight called out, farther down the river. “Yield. Ser knight, I yield to you. My pledge, here, here.” The man lay in a puddle of black water, offering up a lobstered gauntlet in token of submission. Tyrion had to lean down to take it from him. As he did, a pot of wildfire burst overhead, spraying green flame. In the sudden stab of light he saw that the puddle was not black but red. The gauntlet still had the knight’s hand in it. He flung it back. “Yield,” the man sobbed hopelessly, helplessly. Tyrion reeled away.
一个士兵一手抓住提利昂的马缰，一手拿匕首朝他脸刺来。他拨开刀刃，一斧砍进对方脖背。就在使劲拔斧时，余光扫见白袍一闪，提利昂连忙转头，以为曼登·穆尔爵士又回到身边，不料是另一位白袍骑士。巴隆·史文爵士穿着同样的铠甲，但马饰上有自己的家徽：黑白天鹅互斗的图案。他不像白袍骑士，更像污垢骑士，提利昂麻木地想。巴隆爵士浑身是血，被烟熏黑。他提起钉头锤指向下游，锤头沾满脑浆和骨髓，“大人，您看。”
A man-at-arms grabbed the bridle of his horse and thrust at Tyrion’s face with a dagger. He knocked the blade aside and buried the axe in the nape of the man’s neck. As he was wresting it free, a blaze of white appeared at the edge of his vision. Tyrion turned, thinking to find Ser Mandon Moore beside him again, but this was a different white knight. Ser Balon Swann wore the same armor, but his horse trappings bore the battling black-and-white swans of his House. He’s more a spotted knight than a white one, Tyrion thought inanely. Every bit of Ser Balon was spattered with gore and smudged by smoke. He raised his mace to point downriver. Bits of brain and bone clung to its head. “My lord, look.”
提利昂拨转马头，朝黑水河下游望去。河面之下湍急漆黑，河面之上翻滚血焰。天空是红、橙和鲜艳的绿。“什么？”他刚发问，便看到了。
Tyrion swung his horse about to peer down the Blackwater. The current still flowed black and strong beneath, but the surface was a roil of blood and flame. The sky was red and orange and garish green. “What?” he said. Then he saw.
全副武装的士兵从一艘撞毁在码头的战舰上鱼贯而下。怎么这么多？从哪儿来的？提利昂眯起眼睛，透过烟雾和火光，视线追随他们直至河心。原来有二十艘战舰堵在一起，或许更多，无法尽数。她们船桨互相交错，船身被绳索纠缠，撞锤相互钉死，坠落的索具则构成罗网。小船托住大船的残骸，彼此紧紧相连，俨然一座横跨天堑的桥梁，敌人从一个甲板跳到另一个甲板，源源不断穿越黑水河。
Steel-clad men-at-arms were clambering off a broken galley that had smashed into a pier. So many, where are they coming from? Squinting into the smoke and glare, Tyrion followed them back out into the river. Twenty galleys were jammed together out there, maybe more, it was hard to count. Their oars were crossed, their hulls locked together with grappling lines, they were impaled on each other’s rams, tangled in webs of fallen rigging. One great hulk floated hull up between two smaller ships. Wrecks, but packed so closely that it was possible to leap from one deck to the other and so cross the Blackwater.
史坦尼斯·拜拉席恩手下数百名胆大士兵正在过“桥”，甚至有个愚蠢的骑士想骑马过来，拼命催促惊恐的坐骑跨越船舷和木桨，通过布满鲜血和燃烧绿火的倾斜甲板。我为他们搭了座该死的血桥！他沮丧地想。虽然桥的某些部分缓缓下沉，其余部分则在燃烧，整体吱吱嘎嘎地移动，随时可能分崩离析，却阻止不了敌人的步伐。“他们是勇士，”他对巴隆爵士赞道，“我们去宰了他们。”
Hundreds of Stannis Baratheon’s boldest were doing just that. Tyrion saw one great fool of a knight trying to ride across, urging a terrified horse over gunwales and oars, across tilting decks slick with blood and crackling with green fire. We made them a bloody bridge, he thought in dismay. Parts of the bridge were sinking and other parts were afire and the whole thing was creaking and shifting and like to burst asunder at any moment, but that did not seem to stop them. “Those are brave men,” he told Ser Balon in admiration. “Let’s go kill them.”
他领着大家在摇曳火光和扑面烟灰中穿行，经过河滨的废墟，踏上长长的石码头。巴隆爵士带领手下紧紧跟随。曼登爵士也来汇合，他的盾牌已打成一堆烂铁。烟尘与灰烬在空气中弥漫，敌人在冲锋下瓦解，往河流退去。他们争先恐后地入河，将同伴撞进水中。北桥头是一艘半沉的敌舰，船首漆着“龙祸号”三字，龙骨已被提利昂置于码头间的沉船刮破。巴隆爵士还来不及下马，一个佩戴赛提加家族红蟹纹章的长矛兵便将矛尖捅进他的坐骑胸口，将他从马鞍掀下。提利昂从旁一闪而过，向着来人脑袋狠狠劈下，而后想勒马却迟了。他的马跃出码头，飞过碎裂的船舷，落到及膝深的水中，发出一声嘶鸣，溅起一片水花。战斧旋转脱手，提利昂自己则狠狠砸在潮湿的甲板上。
He led them through the guttering fires and the soot and ash of the riverfront, pounding down a long stone quay with his own men and Ser Balon’s behind him. Ser Mandon fell in with them, his shield a ragged ruin. Smoke and cinders swirled through the air, and the foe broke before their charge, throwing themselves back into the water, knocking over other men as they fought to climb up. The foot of the bridge was a half-sunken enemy galley with Dragonsbane painted on her prow, her bottom ripped out by one of the sunken hulks Tyrion had placed between the quays. A spearman wearing the red crab badge of House Celtigar drove the point of his weapon up through the chest of Balon Swann’s horse before he could dismount, spilling the knight from the saddle. Tyrion hacked at the man’s head as he flashed by, and by then it was too late to rein up. His stallion leapt from the end of the quay and over a splintered gunwale, landing with a splash and a scream in ankle-deep water. Tyrion’s axe went spinning, followed by Tyrion himself, and the deck rose up to give him a wet smack.
接下来的状况更是疯狂。他的马折了一条腿，恐怖地嘶叫，他好不容易拔出匕首，割了这头可怜牲口的喉咙。血如猩红的喷泉，浸透手臂和胸膛。他再次站起，蹒跚着向栏杆走去，甲板扭曲，满是积水。接下来是无止无尽的战斗。他杀死几个，击伤几个，还有一些人逃跑，可敌人就是源源不绝。他丢了匕首，却抓着一截不知打哪儿来的断矛，反正抓起就刺，一边尖声咒骂。对手从面前奔逃，他则在后面追赶，翻过栏杆跳到另一艘船，再到下一艘。巴隆·史文和曼登·穆尔披着光彩的白甲，如两道白影左右跟随。一群瓦列利安家的长矛兵包围了他们，他们背靠背地战斗，优雅如同舞蹈。
Madness followed. His horse had broken a leg and was screaming horribly. Somehow he managed to draw his dagger, and slit the poor creature’s throat. The blood gushed out in a scarlet fountain, drenching his arms and chest. He found his feet again and lurched to the rail, and then he was fighting, staggering and splashing across crooked decks awash with water. Men came at him. Some he killed, some he wounded, and some went away, but always there were more. He lost his knife and gained a broken spear, he could not have said how. He clutched it and stabbed, shrieking curses. Men ran from him and he ran after them, clambering up over the rail to the next ship and then the next. His two white shadows were always with him; Balon Swann and Mandon Moore, beautiful in their pale plate. Surrounded by a circle of Velaryon spearmen, they fought back to back; they made battle as graceful as a dance.
提利昂觉得自己杀起人来笨拙了许多。他趁人转身刺其腰，利用身高抓住人腿，将对方掀进河里。箭在头顶呼啸而过，或从甲胄上弹开，其中一支插入胸甲与肩膀间的缝隙，他却浑然不觉。一个裸体男子从天而落，坠到甲板上血肉横飞，好似塔顶掉下来的西瓜。鲜血模糊了提利昂头盔的眼缝。接着石雨骤降，砸穿甲板，搅拌肉泥，最后整个桥一阵颤抖，脚下剧烈运动，他翻倒在地。
His own killing was a clumsy thing. He stabbed one man in the kidney when his back was turned, and grabbed another by the leg and upended him into the river. Arrows hissed past his head and clattered off his armor; one lodged between shoulder and breastplate, but he never felt it. A naked man fell from the sky and landed on the deck, body bursting like a melon dropped from a tower. His blood spattered through the slit of Tyrion’s helm. Stones began to plummet down, crashing through the decks and turning men to pulp, until the whole bridge gave a shudder and twisted violently underfoot, knocking him sideways.
河水陡然涌进头盔。他赶紧扯掉，一边沿着倾斜的甲板缓缓行进，直到水深只及脖子的地方。四周吱嘎作响，犹如巨兽垂死的哀嚎。这些船，他恍惚地想，这些船要散架了。损毁的战舰分散开来，血桥正在瓦解。他刚回过神来，只听“啪”的一声巨响，如雷鸣一般，甲板在身下倾斜，将他滑回水中。
Suddenly the river was pouring into his helm. He ripped it off and crawled along the listing deck until the water was only neck deep. A groaning filled the air, like the death cries of some enormous beast. The ship, he had time to think, the ship’s about to tear loose. The broken galleys were ripping apart, the bridge breaking apart. No sooner had he come to that realization than he heard a sudden crack, loud as thunder, the deck lurched beneath him, and he slid back down into the water.
倾斜的幅度如此之大，他得用尽全力拉住一条断绳，一寸一寸艰难地爬回去。眼角余光瞥见先前纠缠一起的某艘船已开始漂流而下，同时缓缓自转，上面的人争先恐后地跳水。有的佩戴着史坦尼斯的烈焰红心标记，有的则是乔佛里的公鹿雄狮纹章，还有其他家族的人，而今这已不重要了。上游和下游都成为一片火海。放眼望去，北方是混战杀场，挣扎奋斗的人海上摇摆着一大簇难以分辨的明亮旗帜，盾墙甫一组建，即告崩溃，无数跨着骏马的骑士杀进拥挤的人群，穿过尘土和泥泞，鲜血与烟雾；在南边，红堡高踞丘顶，弹射出点点火球。这不对！片刻之间，提利昂以为自己疯了，史坦尼斯和城堡如何换了位？他是怎么渡河到北岸的呢？随后才意识到由于甲板的转动，他自己被掉了个头，因此城堡和战场换了方向。战场，什么战场，如果史坦尼斯没有过河，他的大军在和谁作战？提利昂实在疲惫，无法弄清其中意义。肩膀疼得厉害，他伸手去揉，这才发现那支箭，然后想起受伤的事。我得赶紧离开这艘船。下游只有一堵火墙，船只一旦解体，他就会被水流冲去。
The list was so steep he had to climb back up, hauling himself along a snapped line inch by bloody inch. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the hulk they’d been tangled with drifting downstream with the current, spinning slowly as men leapt over her side. Some wore Stannis’s flaming heart, some Joffrey’s stag-and-lion, some other badges, but it seemed to make no matter. Fires were burning upstream and down. On one side of him was a raging battle, a great confusion of bright banners waving above a sea of struggling men, shield walls forming and breaking, mounted knights cutting through the press, dust and mud and blood and smoke. On the other side, the Red Keep loomed high on its hill, spitting fire. They were on the wrong sides, though. For a moment Tyrion thought he was going mad, that Stannis and the castle had traded places. How could Stannis cross to the north bank? Belatedly he realized that the deck was turning, and somehow he had gotten spun about, so castle and battle had changed sides. Battle, what battle, if Stannis hasn’t crossed who is he fighting? Tyrion was too tired to make sense of it. His shoulder ached horribly, and when he reached up to rub it he saw the arrow, and remembered. I have to get off this ship. Downstream was nothing but a wall of fire, and if the wreck broke loose the current would take him right into it.
一片喧嚣嘈杂中，隐约听见有人喊他。提利昂竭力大声回应，“这儿！这儿，我在这儿，快来救我！”声音出口却变得细小，几乎连自己都听不到。他勉强从倾斜的甲板上站起，挣扎着去够栏杆，不料船身陡然撞上另一战舰，剧烈摇晃，差点掀他再度落水。他的力量上哪儿去了？一定要坚持住啊！
Someone was calling his name faintly through the din of battle. Tyrion tried to shout back. “Here! Here, I’m here, help me!” His voice sounded so thin he could scarcely hear himself. He pulled himself up the slanting deck, and grabbed for the rail. The hull slammed into the next galley over and rebounded so violently he was almost knocked into the water. Where had all his strength gone? It was all he could do to hang on.
“大人，快抓住我！提利昂大人！”
“MY LORD! TAKE MY HAND! MY LORD TYRION!”
隔着一片渐渐变宽的黑水，曼登·穆尔爵士站在邻船甲板上，伸出一只手来。他的白甲映着黄色与绿色的光，龙虾护手黏黏地全是血。提利昂顾不得这些，伸手够去，只恨胳膊太短。直到十指在空中相触的一刹那，他才感到一丝不安……曼登爵士出左手，为什么……
There on the deck of the next ship, across a widening gulf of black water, stood Ser Mandon Moore, a hand extended. Yellow and green fire shone against the white of his armor, and his lobstered gauntlet was sticky with blood, but Tyrion reached for it all the same, wishing his arms were longer. It was only at the very last, as their fingers brushed across the gap, that something niggled at him … Ser Mandon was holding out his left hand, why …
是这念头令他退缩？还是看见那把剑后的本能反应？他不知道。说时迟那时快，剑尖从眼下划过，冰凉的碰触，随后是剧痛。他像挨了一记巴掌似地别过头去，扑面而来的冷水是第二记更响亮的巴掌。他胡乱摆臂，寻找可抓的东西，心知一旦下沉，就再也上不来了。一支断桨居然给他抓住，他像不舍的情人一样紧紧抱牢，一点一点往上爬。眼里是水，嘴里是血，脑袋阵阵剧痛。诸神赐予我力量，让我爬上甲板……除了桨，水和甲板，其他东西统统消失。
Was that why he reeled backward, or did he see the sword after all? He would never know. The point slashed just beneath his eyes, and he felt its cold hard touch and then a blaze of pain. His head spun around as if he’d been slapped. The shock of the cold water was a second slap more jolting than the first. He flailed for something to grab on to, knowing that once he went down he was not like to come back up. Somehow his hand found the splintered end of a broken oar. Clutching it tight as a desperate lover, he shinnied up foot by foot. His eyes were full of water, his mouth was full of blood, and his head throbbed horribly. Gods give me strength to reach the deck … There was nothing else, only the oar, the water, the deck.
终于他翻了上去，筋疲力尽地躺平，喘不过气来。绿色与橙色的火球在头顶爆炸，于群星之间留下条纹，好美啊。景色维持了片刻，接着被曼登爵士阻挡。骑士是个白色的铁皮幽灵，阴郁的眼睛在头盔后闪光。提利昂一点力气也使不上，只能像布娃娃般任人宰割。曼登爵士将剑尖抵住他喉头，双手紧握剑柄。
Finally he rolled over the side and lay breathless and exhausted, flat on his back. Balls of green and orange flame crackled overhead, leaving streaks between the stars. He had a moment to think how pretty it was before Ser Mandon blocked out the view. The knight was a white steel shadow, his eyes shining darkly behind his helm. Tyrion had no more strength than a rag doll. Ser Mandon put the point of his sword to the hollow of his throat and curled both hands around the hilt.
突然骑士向左一个趔趄，撞断栏杆，木头碎裂。随着一声惨叫和水花飞溅，曼登·穆尔爵士消失无踪。两船再度相撞，力道如此之猛，整个甲板都跳将起来。有人跪在他旁边。“詹姆？”他哑着嗓子喊，差点被满口鲜血呛到。除了哥哥，谁会来救他呢？
And suddenly he lurched to the left, staggering into the rail. Wood split, and Ser Mandon Moore vanished with a shout and a splash. An instant later, the hulls came slamming together again, so hard the deck seemed to jump. Then someone was kneeling over him. “Jaime?” he croaked, almost choking on the blood that filled his mouth. Who else would save him, if not his brother?
“别动，大人，您伤得好重。”是个孩子的声音，没道理啊，提利昂心想。这声音好像波德。
“Be still, my lord, you’re hurt bad.” A boy’s voice, that makes no sense, thought Tyrion. It sounded almost like Pod.