Chapter 第三十七章 临冬城王子（席恩四）
THE PRINCE OF WINTERFELL
壁炉边满是冰冷，黑色的灰尘，屋里很冷，但是点着蜡烛。每当门打开时蜡烛的火苗就会摇曳颤抖，就像瑟瑟发抖的新娘一样。他们给她穿上了羔羊绒的外套，衬衣上点缀着珍珠，脚上穿着柔软的鹿皮鞋子——非常漂亮，但是不够暖和。她的脸色惨白，毫无血色。
The hearth was caked with cold black ash, the room unheated but for candles. Every time a door opened their flames would sway and shiver. The bride was shivering too. They had dressed her in white lambswool trimmed with lace. Her sleeves and bodice were sewn with freshwater pearls, and on her feet were white doeskin slippers—pretty, but not warm. Her face was pale, bloodless.
冰冷的面孔，席恩认为应该给他披一件皮子外套。像雪中的尸体一样。“女士，时间到了。”外面的竖琴，管弦和大鼓奏着乐曲，似乎在提醒他们一样。
A face carved of ice, Theon Greyjoy thought as he draped a fur-trimmed cloak about her shoulders. A corpse buried in the snow. “My lady. It is time.” Beyond the door, the music called them, lute and pipes and drum.
新娘抬起眼睛，棕色的眼睛，反射着烛光。“我会是一个好妻子，将会取悦他，给他生很多儿子。我将会做一个比真正的艾丽娅更好的妻子，他会知道的。”
The bride raised her eyes. Brown eyes, shining in the candlelight. “I will be a good wife to him, and t-true. I … I will please him and give him sons. I will be a better wife than the real Arya could have been, he’ll see.”
作为臭佬，他学会的第一件事就是：不该说的不说，否则生不如死。“你就是艾丽娅，女士。史塔克家的艾丽娅，艾德大人的女儿，临冬城的继承人。”她的名字，她需要知道她的名字。“捣蛋鬼艾丽娅，马脸艾丽娅。” “捣蛋鬼艾丽娅，马脸艾丽娅。”
Talk like that will get you killed, or worse. That lesson he had learned as Reek. “You are the real Arya, my lady. Arya of House Stark, Lord Eddard’s daughter, heir to Winterfell.” Her name, she had to know her name. “Arya Underfoot. Your sister used to call you Arya Horseface.”
“是我起的那个名字。她确实长了一张马脸。我的不是，我很漂亮。”她的眼泪最终还是流了下来。“我虽然不像珊莎那么美丽，但是他们都说我很漂亮。拉姆西大人认为我漂亮吗？”
“It was me made up that name. Her face was long and horsey. Mine isn’t. I was pretty.” Tears spilled from her eyes at last. “I was never beautiful like Sansa, but they all said I was pretty. Does Lord Ramsay think I am pretty?”
“是的。”他扯谎道。“他这么和我说过。”
“Yes,” he lied. “He’s told me so.”
“他知道我是谁，我真正的身份。当他打量我的时候我感觉的到。他看起来很气愤，以至于笑的时候都是如此。但那不是我的错。他们说他以伤害别人为乐。”
“He knows who I am, though. Who I really am. I see it when he looks at me. He looks so angry, even when he smiles, but it’s not my fault. They say he likes to hurt people.”
“我的好女士不应该听到这么多…谎言。”
“My lady should not listen to such … lies.”
“他们说他折磨你，你的手和…”
“They say that he hurt you. Your hands, and …”
他的嘴巴开始发干，“我…我罪有应得。我惹他生气，你不应该惹他生气。拉姆西大人是一个温柔的人，非常善良。取悦他，他就会对你很好。做一个好妻子。”
His mouth was dry. “I … I deserved it. I made him angry. You must not make him angry. Lord Ramsay is a … a sweet man, and kindly. Please him, and he will be good to you. Be a good wife.”
“帮帮我吧。”她抓住他。“求求你，我曾看你在这个院子里练剑。你是如此的英俊。”她握紧他的胳膊。“如果我们能逃走，我可以做你的妻子，或者你的盐妾…随便什么，只要你喜欢。你是我的男人了。”
“Help me.” She clutched at him. “Please. I used to watch you in the yard, playing with your swords. You were so handsome.” She squeezed his arm. “If we ran away, I could be your wife, or your … your whore … whatever you wanted. You could be my man.”
“席恩推开她的胳膊。“我不是…不是任何人的男人。”一个男人可以帮助她。“只要…只要做艾丽娅，做他的妻子，取悦他，或者…取悦他，不要说起自己身份的事情。”珍妮，她的名字是珍妮，这个名字对他来说几乎和痛苦同义。音乐更加响亮和急迫。“时间到了，收起眼泪吧。”棕色的眼睛。他们应该是灰色的。一些人会发现，一些人会记得。“很好，现在保持微笑吧。”珍妮，她的名字是珍妮，这个名字对他来说几乎和痛苦同义。音乐更加响亮和急迫。“时间到了，收起眼泪吧。”棕色的眼睛。他们应该是灰色的。一些人会发现，一些人会记得。“很好，现在保持微笑吧。”
Theon wrenched his arm away from her. “I’m no … I’m no one’s man.” A man would help her. “Just … just be Arya, be his wife. Please him, or … just please him, and stop this talk about being someone else.” Jeyne, her name is Jeyne, it rhymes with pain. The music was growing more insistent. “It is time. Wipe those tears from your eyes.” Brown eyes. They should be grey. Someone will see. Someone will remember. “Good. Now smile.”
女孩试着笑了一下。她的嘴唇颤抖惨白，他能看到她的牙齿。洁白漂亮的牙齿，他想，但是如果她惹他生气，那这些牙齿可能就不再漂亮了。他推开门，四根蜡烛中的三根被吹灭了，他把她领进宾客等候的殿堂，婚礼的迷雾中。
The girl tried. Her lips, trembling, twitched up and froze, and he could see her teeth. Pretty white teeth, he thought, but if she angers him, they will not be pretty long. When he pushed the door open, three of the four candles fluttered out. He led the bride into the mist, where the wedding guests were waiting.
“为什么是我？”当Lady Dustin告诉他要他去做证婚人的时候她问。
“Why me?” he had asked when Lady Dustin told him he must give the bride away.
“她的父亲，母亲和所有兄弟都已不在人世。她的叔叔也不知所踪。”
“Her father is dead and all her brothers. Her mother perished at the Twins. Her uncles are lost or dead or captive.”
“她还有一个兄弟。”她还有三个兄弟，他差点对她说。“琼恩。雪诺在长城当差。”
“She has a brother still.” She has three brothers still, he might have said. “Jon Snow is with the Night’s Watch.”
“私生子，守长城。这可不是一个好的选择。你是他父亲大人的养子，和她最亲近的人。所以你是最适合做她的证婚人的。”
“A half-brother, bastard-born, and bound to the Wall. You were her father’s ward, the nearest thing she has to living kin. It is only fitting that you give her hand in marriage.”
她最亲近的人。席恩。格雷乔伊曾和艾丽娅。史塔克一起长大。如果席恩把波顿找来冒名顶替的女孩认作艾丽娅，那他会被认为是个骗子。前来效忠的北境领主们没有理由质疑她的合法性。勇敢强壮的Whoresbane Umber，喜欢吵架的Ryswells，Hornwood men 和Cerywn cousins，肥胖的鳗鱼大人…他们中不止一个了解真正的艾丽娅。如果有怀疑，可以肯定的是他们会把疑虑留在自己的心里。
The nearest thing she has to living kin. Theon Greyjoy had grown up with Arya Stark. Theon would have known an imposter. If he was seen to accept Bolton’s feigned girl as Arya, the northern lords who had gathered to bear witness to the match would have no grounds to question her legitimacy. Stout and Slate, Whoresbane Umber, the quarrelsome Ryswells, Hornwood men and Cerywn cousins, fat Lord Wyman Manderly … not one of them had known Ned Stark’s daughters half so well as he. And if a few entertained private doubts, surely they would be wise enough to keep those misgivings to themselves.
他们让我来圆谎，把我的脸面放在他们的谎言之上。让我在这场闹剧中扮演自己的角色，这就是卢斯。波顿又把我打扮的像一个贵族的原因。当冒牌艾丽娅和私生子拉姆西真正完婚，当这场闹剧真正结束，波顿大人将会不再需要变色龙席恩。“帮助我们，当击败史坦尼斯之后我们将会讨论一下如何帮你坐上你父亲的王位的问题。”波顿大人用他一如既往的轻声细语的欺骗和谎言如是说，席恩从来没有相信过他说过的每一个字。他会如此做因为他别无选择，但是以后…那时他会把我还给拉姆斯，他想，他会再切掉我的几根手指，然后再把我变成臭佬。除非老天保佑，史坦尼斯攻陷临冬城，把他们都杀光，当然也会包括我，但那对我来说是最好的结果。
They are using me to cloak their deception, putting mine own face on their lie. That was why Roose Bolton had clothed him as a lord again, to play his part in this mummer’s farce. Once that was done, once their false Arya had been wedded and bedded, Bolton would have no more use for Theon Turncloak. “Serve us in this, and when Stannis is defeated we will discuss how best to restore you to your father’s seat,” his lordship had said in that soft voice of his, a voice made for lies and whispers. Theon never believed a word of it. He would dance this dance for them because he had no choice, but afterward … He will give me back to Ramsay then, he thought, and Ramsay will take a few more fingers and turn me into Reek once more. Unless the gods were good, and Stannis Baratheon descended on Winterfell and put all of them to the sword, himself included. That was the best he could hope for.
非常奇怪的是，神木林里很暖和。在它之外，临冬城已经是冰雪封城。小路上布满危险的黑冰；残破的花园中结满白霜，惨白的月光倾泻之上。城墙上的每一个角落都堆满了积雪，有一些甚至高过门梁。积雪之下是灰烬和残骸，到处都是破碎的尸骨。城垛上像长矛一样的冰挂使之看起来像一个留着花白胡子的老人。但是在神木林里，土地没有冻结，水塘里冒着热气，就像婴儿温暖的呼吸。
It was warmer in the godswood, strange to say. Beyond its confines, a hard white frost gripped Winterfell. The paths were treacherous with black ice, and hoarfrost sparkled in the moonlight on the broken panes of the Glass Gardens. Drifts of dirty snow had piled up against the walls, filling every nook and corner. Some were so high they hid the doors behind them. Under the snow lay grey ash and cinders, and here and there a blackened beam or a pile of bones adorned with scraps of skin and hair. Icicles long as lances hung from the battlements and fringed the towers like an old man’s stiff white whiskers. But inside the godswood, the ground remained unfrozen, and steam rose off the hot pools, as warm as baby’s breath.
新娘的礼服由白色和灰色构成，就像真正的艾丽娅结婚时会穿的那样。席恩穿着黑色和金色的礼服，他的斗篷由一枚波顿特意为他打造的海怪别针别在身上。但是在这之下，他的头发稀疏苍白，他的身体像老人般虚弱无力。最终还是史塔克，他想。手挽着手，在齐膝高的淡淡的雾气的笼罩下他和新娘穿过一扇拱形石门。鼓声振动着新娘的心弦，号角声高亢甜美。在树顶，一弯新月挂在黑暗的天空上，在雾气中朦朦胧胧，就像躲在面纱后面的眼睛。
The bride was garbed in white and grey, the colors the true Arya would have worn had she lived long enough to wed. Theon wore black and gold, his cloak pinned to his shoulder by a crude iron kraken that a smith in Barrowton had hammered together for him. But under the hood, his hair was white and thin, and his flesh had an old man’s greyish undertone. A Stark at last, he thought. Arm in arm, the bride and he passed through an arched stone door, as wisps of fog stirred round their legs. The drum was as tremulous as a maiden’s heart, the pipes high and sweet and beckoning. Up above the treetops, a crescent moon was floating in a dark sky, half-obscured by mist, like an eye peering through a veil of silk.
席恩和这片神木林并不陌生。他还是一个孩子的时候曾在这祈祷，在岩石间奔跑，嬉闹；把他的小宝贝藏在老橡树洞里；用自制的弓箭捕猎松鼠。时光飞逝，长大一些之后，他会在和史塔克家的男孩们共同习武之后来这里的温水池中擦拭伤口。当需要时他总能在这些栗子树，榆树和士兵树之中他总能找到一个秘密的地方来独处。他的初吻就在这里，第一次也是在这里，就在不远处的一棵灰绿色的士兵树下。
Theon Greyjoy was no stranger to this godswood. He had played here as a boy, skipping stones across the cold black pool beneath the weirwood, hiding his treasures in the bole of an ancient oak, stalking squirrels with a bow he made himself. Later, older, he had soaked his bruises in the hot springs after many a session in the yard with Robb and Jory and Jon Snow. In amongst these chestnuts and elms and soldier pines he had found secret places where he could hide when he wanted to be alone. The first time he had ever kissed a girl had been here. Later, a different girl had made a man of him upon a ragged quilt in the shade of that tall grey-green sentinel.
他并不认为神木林喜欢这些，这里灰白神秘，充满温暖的雾气和星星点点的光亮，随时随地都会听到不知来自何处的呓语。在树下，温暖的泉水冒着热气。水蒸气从地面飘向天空，用它们温热的呼吸温暖着这片树林。从窗外看去就像一张灰色的窗帘冉冉升起。
He had never seen the godswood like this, though—grey and ghostly, filled with warm mists and floating lights and whispered voices that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. Beneath the trees, the hot springs steamed. Warm vapors rose from the earth, shrouding the trees in their moist breath, creeping up the walls to draw grey curtains across the watching windows.
这里有很多小径，堆满乱石长满苔藓曲曲折折，燃烧后的残骸和沉积的落叶被树根紧紧缠绕在一起。他把新娘独自留在那。珍妮，她的名字叫珍妮，痛苦的同义词。他不能想这些，如果这个名字从他的嘴里说出，那会是一根手指或者一个耳朵的代价。他走的很慢，每一步都看着脚下。他失去的脚趾让他无法走快，但是他不能摔倒。在拉姆斯大人的婚礼上摔倒的话，大人会剥下犯错的那只脚的皮。
There was a path of sorts, a meandering footpath of cracked stones overgrown with moss, half-buried beneath blown dirt and fallen leaves and made treacherous by thick brown roots pushing up from underneath. He led the bride along it. Jeyne, her name is Jeyne, it rhymes with pain. He must not think that, though. Should that name pass his lips, it might cost him a finger or an ear. He walked slowly, watching every step. His missing toes made him hobble when he hurried, and it would not do to stumble. Mar Lord Ramsay’s wedding with a misstep, and Lord Ramsay might rectify such clumsiness by flaying the offending foot.
雾很浓，视线无法看的很远；在他们前面站着高大的影子和模糊的光亮。烛光在树间曲折的小路上朦胧闪烁。苍白的火光漂浮在灰白的雾气中。感觉就像某个地下世界，一个没有时间概念的世界，就好像灵魂在进入他们罪有应得的地狱前徘徊和漫步的地方。我们都死了吗？史坦尼斯在我们睡着的时候把我们统统杀光了？战斗是刚刚开始，还是已经结束？
The mists were so thick that only the nearest trees were visible; beyond them stood tall shadows and faint lights. Candles flickered beside the wandering path and back amongst the trees, pale fireflies floating in a warm grey soup. It felt like some strange underworld, some timeless place between the worlds, where the damned wandered mournfully for a time before finding their way down to whatever hell their sins had earned them. Are we all dead, then? Did Stannis come and kill us in our sleep? Is the battle yet to come, or has it been fought and lost?
到处都是燃烧着的火炬，在参加婚礼的客人面前熊熊燃烧。迷雾扭曲了火光，让这些人看起来如此狂野，扭曲。Lord Stout变成了一直猎狗，Lord Locke则是一直秃鹫，Whoresbane Umber就像一只石像鬼，大瓦德是狐狸，小瓦德则像是一只公牛，没有鼻环的公牛。卢斯。波顿就好像带着一张灰白色的面具，眼睛像两片灰色的冰块。
Here and there a torch burned hungrily, casting its ruddy glow over the faces of the wedding guests. The way the mists threw back the shifting light made their features seem bestial, half-human, twisted. Lord Stout became a mastiff, old Lord Locke a vulture, Whoresbane Umber a gargoyle, Big Walder Frey a fox, Little Walder a red bull, lacking only a ring for his nose. Roose Bolton’s own face was a pale grey mask, with two chips of dirty ice where his eyes should be.
在他们头顶的树上落满了乌鸦，这些鸟儿羽毛蓬松，缩成一团，注视着树下这出华丽的大戏。学士塔被付之一炬时鲁温学士的乌鸦都盘旋在天空。这里是它们的家。席恩努力去想拥有一个家会是一种什么样的感觉，但是毫无头绪。
Above their heads the trees were full of ravens, their feathers fluffed as they hunched on bare brown branches, staring down at the pageantry below. Maester Luwin’s birds. Luwin was dead, and his maester’s tower had been put to the torch, yet the ravens lingered. This is their home. Theon wondered what that would be like, to have a home.
这时迷雾分开了，就像一个演员拉开幕布来上演一出新剧目一样。心树出现在他们面前，它蜿蜒古怪的枝叶四处蔓延，落叶沉积在它那长在棕红色泥土中的白色躯干上。乌鸦们拥挤的聚集在这里，交头接耳仿佛对谋杀犯的斥责。拉姆斯。波顿站在他们之下，他穿着柔软的灰色皮制长筒靴，黑天鹅绒外套，里边穿着点缀着暗红色宝石的粉色丝绸衬衣。他的脸上洋溢着微笑。“看看谁来了？”他的嘴唇潮湿，衣领以上的颈部潮红。“是谁来到了旧神面前？”
Then the mists parted, like the curtain opening at a mummer show to reveal some new tableau. The heart tree appeared in front of them, its bony limbs spread wide. Fallen leaves lay about the wide white trunk in drifts of red and brown. The ravens were the thickest here, muttering to one another in the murderers’ secret tongue. Ramsay Bolton stood beneath them, clad in high boots of soft grey leather and a black velvet doublet slashed with pink silk and glittering with garnet teardrops. A smile danced across his face. “Who comes?” His lips were moist, his neck red above his collar. “Who comes before the god?”
席恩答道：“史塔克家的艾莉娅为了她的婚礼来到这里。她是一个如花似玉的成熟女人，血统纯正的贵族，她来到旧神面前祈求祝福。是谁要来迎娶她？”
Theon answered. “Arya of House Stark comes here to be wed. A woman grown and flowered, trueborn and noble, she comes to beg the blessings of the gods. Who comes to claim her?”
“我，”拉姆西。波顿大声宣布。“波顿家的拉姆西，Hornwood的城主，恐怖堡的继承人。我要迎娶她。谁来把她送给我？”
“Me,” said Ramsay. “Ramsay of House Bolton, Lord of the Hornwood, heir to the Dreadfort. I claim her. Who gives her?”
“格雷乔伊家的席恩，史塔克大人的养子。”他转向新娘。“艾莉娅女士，你会嫁个这个男人吗？”
“Theon of House Greyjoy, who was her father’s ward.” He turned to the bride. “Lady Arya, will you take this man?”
她和他目光相接。棕色的眼睛，不是灰色。难道他们都是瞎子吗？她很久都没有说话，但是她的眼睛在祈求。你还有机会，他想。告诉他们，立刻告诉他们。在他们所有人面前大声说出你的名字，告诉他们你不是艾莉娅。史塔克，让所有北方人都知道你是如何演出这场闹剧的。当然，这意味着宣判她和他的死刑，但是拉姆西所做的最坏的事情也不过是立刻杀了他们，北方的旧神会把那当成两件小小的礼物。
She raised her eyes to his. Brown eyes, not grey. Are all of them so blind? For a long moment she did not speak, but those eyes were begging. This is your chance, he thought. Tell them. Tell them now. Shout out your name before them all, tell them that you are not Arya Stark, let all the north hear how you were made to play this part. It would mean her death, of course, and his own as well, but Ramsay in his wroth might kill them quickly. The old gods of the north might grant them that small boon.
“我愿意嫁个这个男人。”新娘低声答道。
“I take this man,” the bride said in a whisper.
穿越迷雾，在他们周围点亮着点点火光，成百上千的蜡烛就像星星一样闪烁。席恩后退，拉姆西手牵着手跪在心树前，低下头。鱼梁木血红的双眼开始望向他们，它那红色的嘴巴大张着，似乎在笑一样。在树枝上，一直乌鸦飞过。
All around them lights glimmered through the mists, a hundred candles pale as shrouded stars. Theon stepped back, and Ramsay and his bride joined hands and knelt before the heart tree, bowing their heads in token of submission. The weirwood’s carved red eyes stared down at them, its great red mouth open as if to laugh. In the branches overhead a raven quorked.
在一阵安静的祈祷之后，他们重新站起。拉姆斯解下了席恩系在新娘身上的披风，沉重的白色羊毛披风，上边绣着史塔克家的冰原狼纹章。拉姆斯系着一个粉红色的披风，上面点缀着红色的石榴石，鲜红的就像他通常所做的那些暴行一样。在披风后面绣着一个被剥皮的人，残忍又可怕。
After a moment of silent prayer, the man and woman rose again. Ramsay undid the cloak that Theon had slipped about his bride’s shoulders moments before, the heavy white wool cloak bordered in grey fur, emblazoned with the direwolf of House Stark. In its place he fastened a pink cloak, spattered with red garnets like those upon his doublet. On its back was the flayed man of the Dreadfort done in stiff red leather, grim and grisly.
很快，一切都完成了。北方的婚礼总是很简单快速。甚至不需要牧师，但是无论如何这对他来说都是一种仁慈。拉姆斯。波顿拉起他的新娘，然后和她一起穿过迷雾。波顿大人和他的妻子瓦坦（弗雷家的那个胖子）跟在后边，其他人也都走了。乐队再次开始演奏，歌手阿贝尔开始和他的两个女同伴一起演唱《两颗跳动如一的心》。
Quick as that, it was done. Weddings went more quickly in the north. It came of not having priests, Theon supposed, but whatever the reason it seemed to him a mercy. Ramsay Bolton scooped his wife up in his arms and strode through the mists with her. Lord Bolton and his Lady Walda followed, then the rest. The musicians began to play again, and the bard Abel began to sing “Two Hearts That Beat as One.” Two of his women joined their voices to his own to make a sweet harmony.
席恩不知道如果他此刻祈祷，旧神是否会倾听？它们不是他的神，从来不是。他是铁种，PYKE的儿子，他所信仰的神是铁群岛的淹神…但是临冬城离海很远。他活这么大就从没被哪个神灵眷顾过。他不知道他是谁，或者是其他什么东西，他为什么还活着，他为什么会出生？
Theon found himself wondering if he should say a prayer. Will the old gods hear me if I do? They were not his gods, had never been his gods. He was ironborn, a son of Pyke, his god was the Drowned God of the islands … but Winterfell was long leagues from the sea. It had been a lifetime since any god had heard him. He did not know who he was, or what he was, why he was still alive, why he had ever been born.
“席恩。”一声低语呼唤着他。
“Theon,” a voice seemed to whisper.
他抬起头，“谁在那？”他所能看到的只是树，和笼罩在树林中的迷雾。这只是树叶摩挲的声音，充满憎恨和寒冷，旧神的声音。或者是鬼魂的。他攻下临冬城的时候，死了多少人？他失去临冬城的时候，又死了多少？那天席恩。格雷乔伊死去了，重生成了臭佬，臭佬，意味着尖叫。
His head snapped up. “Who said that?” All he could see were the trees and the fog that covered them. The voice had been as faint as rustling leaves, as cold as hate. A god’s voice, or a ghost’s. How many died the day that he took Winterfell? How many more the day he lost it? The day that Theon Greyjoy died, to be reborn as Reek. Reek, Reek, it rhymes with shriek.
他不想再呆在这了。
Suddenly he did not want to be here.
曾有一次神木林外的寒风像饿狼一样袭击他。他尽可能的低下头然后躲进大厅，点燃蜡烛和火把。冰雪钻进他的靴子里，狂风挂掉了他的兜帽，就好像饥饿的幽灵用冰冷的手指抓住了他，并且凝视他的双眼一样。
Once outside the godswood the cold descended on him like a ravening wolf and caught him in its teeth. He lowered his head into the wind and made for the Great Hall, hastening after the long line of candles and torches. Ice crunched beneath his boots, and a sudden gust pushed back his hood, as if a ghost had plucked at him with frozen fingers, hungry to gaze upon his face.
临冬城对席恩。格雷乔伊来说充满了鬼魂。
Winterfell was full of ghosts for Theon Greyjoy.
这已经不是那座自他在年轻时居住和生活过的城堡了。这座城堡伤痕累累，凋零破碎，现在已经是乌鸦和尸体的乐园。外围城墙依然耸立，花岗岩不会被焚毁，但是它所保护的塔楼和房子们却已然不在。一些倒塌，残骸或多或少的被火烧光。那些种在花园里本应该为城堡提供给养的蔬菜和水果都已经死去。到处都是帐篷，支在厚厚的雪上。卢斯。波顿在这高墙内自称主人，还有他的弗雷朋友们；他们成百上千的拥挤在这座废墟里，他们睡再地窖中和被抛弃一个世纪之久的露顶的残塔上。
This was not the castle he remembered from the summer of his youth. This place was scarred and broken, more ruin than redoubt, a haunt of crows and corpses. The great double curtain wall still stood, for granite does not yield easily to fire, but most of the towers and keeps within were roofless. A few had collapsed. The thatch and timber had been consumed by fire, in whole or in part, and under the shattered panes of the Glass Garden the fruits and vegetables that would have fed the castle during the winter were dead and black and frozen. Tents filled the yard, half-buried in the snow. Roose Bolton had brought his host inside the walls, along with his friends the Freys; thousands huddled amongst the ruins, crowding every court, sleeping in cellar vaults and under topless towers, and in buildings abandoned for centuries.
炊烟从重建的厨房和营房中升起。城垛和垛口都堆满了积雪挂满了冰挂。所有的颜色都从临冬城身上褪去，仅仅留下灰色和白色。史塔克家族的颜色。席恩不知道这是好事还是坏事。甚至天空都是灰色的。灰色灰色灰色…整个世界都是灰色，你看到的所有东西都是灰色。除了新娘的眼睛，她的眼睛是棕色。大大的棕色眼睛充满恐惧。她向他求救是不明智的。她可能会认为我会召唤一匹飞马带她逃离这里，就像她和珊莎曾经喜欢过的那些英雄的故事一样？他甚至连自己都帮不了，臭佬，意味着驯服。
Plumes of grey smoke snaked up from the rebuilt kitchens and reroofed barracks keep. The battlements and crenellations were crowned with snow and hung with icicles. All the color had been leached from Winterfell until only grey and white remained. The Stark colors. Theon did not know whether he ought to find that ominous or reassuring. Even the sky was grey. Grey and grey and greyer. The whole world grey, everywhere you look, everything grey except the eyes of the bride. The eyes of the bride were brown. Big and brown and full of fear. It was not right that she should look to him for rescue. What had she been thinking, that he would whistle up a winged horse and fly her out of here, like some hero in the stories she and Sansa used to love? He could not even help himself. Reek, Reek, it rhymes with meek.
在院子四周，挂满了被吊死的人，苍白肿胀的脸孔挂满白霜。当波顿的先锋来到这里时临冬城住满了游民。敢于反抗的人都被立刻吊死，剩下的人都被派去做苦力。波顿大人告诉他们，干的好了，他会给他们宽容。石头和木材在狼林里遍地可寻。结实的大门首先被造好，来代替被烧毁的那个。然后倒塌的长厅也被重建。当所有工作都结束之后，波顿大人把剩下的苦工也都吊死了。他实现了他的诺言，很宽容的没有剥他们的皮。
All about the yard, dead men hung half-frozen at the end of hempen ropes, swollen faces white with hoarfrost. Winterfell had been crawling with squatters when Bolton’s van had reached the castle. More than two dozen had been driven at spearpoint from the nests they had made amongst the castle’s half-ruined keeps and towers. The boldest and most truculent had been hanged, the rest put to work. Serve well, Lord Bolton told them, and he would be merciful. Stone and timber were plentiful with the wolfswood so close at hand. Stout new gates had gone up first, to replace those that had been burned. Then the collapsed roof of the Great Hall had been cleared away and a new one raised hurriedly in its stead. When the work was done, Lord Bolton hanged the workers. True to his word, he showed them mercy and did not flay a one.
这之后，波顿大人剩下的部队陆续到来。他们在临冬城的城墙上升起托曼的宝冠雄鹿旗和兰尼斯特家的狮子旗，凛冽的北风吹打着这些旗子。在这这下是恐怖堡的剥皮人们。席恩和Barbrey Dustin一道而来。Lady Dustin坚持要在结婚前照顾艾莉娅。但是现在时间已过，她现在已经属于拉姆斯。她如是说。拉姆斯因为这个婚姻成为了临冬城主，如果珍妮不惹他生气的话。 他没有理由伤害她。艾莉娅，她的名字是艾莉娅。
By that time, the rest of Bolton’s army had arrived. They raised King Tommen’s stag and lion above the walls of Winterfell as the wind came howling from the north, and below it the flayed man of the Dreadfort. Theon arrived in Barbrey Dustin’s train, with her ladyship herself, her Barrowton levies, and the bride-to-be. Lady Dustin had insisted that she should have custody of Lady Arya until such time as she was wed, but now that time was done. She belongs to Ramsay now. She said the words. By this marriage Ramsay would be Lord of Winterfell. So long as Jeyne took care not to anger him, he should have no cause to harm her. Arya. Her name is Arya.
尽管带着皮手套，席恩的手还是开始感到疼痛。他的手总是伤的最严重，特别是那些已经不在的手指。那段女人们都渴望他的爱抚的日子究竟是不是真的？我曾自立为临冬城亲王。他想，从那以后发生了所有这些。他曾经认为人们会歌颂他数百年并且他英勇的传说会世代相传。但是如果现在任何人谈起他，都会是变色龙席恩，他的传说只会是他的背叛。这里永远都不是我的家。我是这里的人质。史塔克大人没有残酷的对待我，但是他那把巨剑寒冰总会横在他们之间。他对我很好，但是从不温暖。他知道总有一天他会杀了我。
Even inside fur-lined gloves, Theon’s hands had begun to throb with pain. It was often his hands that hurt the worst, especially his missing fingers. Had there truly been a time when women yearned for his touch? I made myself the Prince of Winterfell, he thought, and from that came all of this. He had thought that men would sing of him for a hundred years and tell tales of his daring. But if anyone spoke of him now, it was as Theon Turncloak, and the tales they told were of his treachery. This was never my home. I was a hostage here. Lord Stark had not treated him cruelly, but the long steel shadow of his greatsword had always been between them. He was kind to me, but never warm. He knew that one day he might need to put me to death.