Ⅳ 群鸦的盛宴 Chapter0 序章
PROLOGUE
“龙。”莫兰德边说，边从地上抓起一只干瘪的苹果，在双手之间丢来丢去。
Dragons,” said Mollander. He snatched a withered apple off the ground and tossed it hand to hand.
“扔啊。”外号“斯芬克斯”的拉蕾萨催促。他从箭囊里抽出一支箭，搭上弓弦。
“Throw the apple,” urged Alleras the Sphinx. He slipped an arrow from his quiver and nocked it to his bowstring.
“我想看龙。”鲁尼在他们当中年纪最小，又矮又胖，尚有两岁才成年。“哪怕一眼都好。”
“I should like to see a dragon.” Roone was the youngest of them, a chunky boy still two years shy of manhood. “I should like that very much.”
我想萝希搂着我睡觉，佩特心想。他坐在板凳上不安地挪动。到明天早上，女孩就是他的人了。我要带她远离旧镇，穿越狭海，去自由贸易城邦。那里没有学士，没有人会抓他。
And I should like to sleep with Rosey’s arms around me, Pate thought. He shifted restlessly on the bench. By the morrow the girl could well be his. I will take her far from Oldtown, across the narrow sea to one of the Free Cities. There were no maesters there, no one to accuse him.
艾玛的笑声从头顶的窄窗中传出，夹杂着恩客低沉的嗓门—她乃“羽笔酒樽”最年长的女招待，年过四十，却是体态丰盈，风韵犹存。萝希是她女儿，芳龄十五，刚刚有了月事。艾玛早已宣布，萝希的初夜需花费一枚金龙。佩特费尽心机，才存下九枚银鹿，外加一罐铜星币和零散的铜板，但要叫他存满一枚金币，恐怕比孵出一条真龙更难。
He could hear Emma’s laughter coming through a shuttered window overhead, mingled with the deeper voice of the man she was entertaining. She was the oldest of the serving wenches at the Quill and Tankard, forty if she was a day, but still pretty in a fleshy sort of way. Rosey was her daughter, fifteen and freshly flowered. Emma had decreed that Rosey’s maidenhead would cost a golden dragon. Pate had saved nine silver stags and a pot of copper stars and pennies, for all the good that would do him. He would have stood a better chance of hatching a real dragon than saving up enough coin to make a golden one.
“你生得太迟，看不到龙了，小子。”助理学士阿曼告诉鲁尼。阿曼脖子上挂着一根皮绳，串有白、锡、铅和铜的链条，跟大多数助理学士一样，他似乎也认为学徒们肩膀上长的是芜菁，不是脑袋。“最后一头龙在伊耿三世的朝代就死了。”
“You were born too late for dragons, lad,” Armen the Acolyte told Roone. Armen wore a leather thong about his neck, strung with links of pewter, tin, lead, and copper, and like most acolytes he seemed to believe that novices had turnips growing from their shoulders in place of heads. “The last one perished during the reign of King Aegon the Third.”
“那是维斯特洛的最后一头龙。”莫兰德强调。
“The last dragon in Westeros,” insisted Mollander.
“快扔苹果。”拉蕾萨再度催促。这小子生得标致，人称“斯芬克斯”，深得女招待们的喜爱，连萝希也会偶尔在端酒时趁机碰他胳膊一把，佩特只好咬咬牙，假装没看见。
“Throw the apple,” Alleras urged again. He was a comely youth, their Sphinx. All the serving wenches doted on him. Even Rosey would sometimes touch him on the arm when she brought him wine, and Pate had to gnash his teeth and pretend not to see.
“维斯特洛的最后一头龙就是全世界的最后一头龙，”阿曼固执地说，“大家都知道。”
“The last dragon in Westeros was the last dragon,” said Armen doggedly. “That is well known.”
“苹果，”拉蕾萨说，“除非你想吃了它。”
“The apple,” Alleras said. “Unless you mean to eat it.”
“来了。”莫兰德拖着畸形的脚轻跳一步，转了一圈，胳膊甩出，将苹果抛向蜜酒河上的雾气之中。若非那只脚，他或许能像父亲一样当骑士。他有粗壮的胳膊和宽阔的肩膀，不缺力量，只见苹果飞得又远又急……
“Here.” Dragging his clubfoot, Mollander took a short hop, whirled, and whipped the apple sidearm into the mists that hung above the Honeywine. If not for his foot, he would have been a knight like his father. He had the strength for it in those thick arms and broad shoulders. Far and fast the apple flew …
……却不如后面呼啸而来的那支箭，一码长的金木箭杆上镶着鲜红羽饰。佩特没看到箭射中苹果，但听到了声音。一声轻微的闷响在河面上回荡，紧接着是落水声。
… but not as fast as the arrow that whistled after it, a yard-long shaft of golden wood fletched with scarlet feathers. Pate did not see the arrow catch the apple, but he heard it. A soft chunk echoed back across the river, followed by a splash.
莫兰德打个呼哨。“正中靶子。宝贝儿。”
Mollander whistled. “You cored it. Sweet.”
萝希是我的宝贝儿。佩特爱她淡褐色的眼睛，蓓蕾初绽的乳房，还有她每次见到他时微笑的模样。他爱她脸颊上的酒窝。她时而会光着脚，以感受脚下的草地，这点他也很喜欢。他爱她清新的气味，爱她的秀发鬈曲在耳后的样子，甚至爱她的脚趾头。某天晚上，她把脚伸给他摩挲玩弄，于是他替每个脚趾头都编了一个好玩的故事，逗得她咯咯笑个不停。
Not half as sweet as Rosey. Pate loved her hazel eyes and budding breasts, and the way she smiled every time she saw him. He loved the dimples in her cheeks. Sometimes she went barefoot as she served, to feel the grass beneath her feet. He loved that too. He loved the clean fresh smell of her, the way her hair curled behind her ears. He even loved her toes. One night she’d let him rub her feet and play with them, and he’d made up a funny tale for every toe to keep her giggling.
也许留在狭海这一边更好。他可以用存下的钱买头驴子，和萝希轮流骑着周游维斯特洛。虽然安布罗斯认为他还不配获得银链条，但佩特已懂得如何接骨，如何用水蛭放血退烧了。老百姓们会看重他的。若是再学会剪发和刮胡子，他甚至可以当理发师。那就够了，他告诉自己，只要拥有萝希。萝希是他所有的渴望。
Perhaps he would do better to remain on this side of the narrow sea. He could buy a donkey with the coin he’d saved, and he and Rosey could take turns riding it as they wandered Westeros. Ebrose might not think him worthy of the silver, but Pate knew how to set a bone and leech a fever. The smallfolk would be grateful for his help. If he could learn to cut hair and shave beards, he might even be a barber. That would be enough, he told himself, so long as I had Rosey. Rosey was all that he wanted in the world.
从前并非如此。从前他梦想成为城堡中的学士，为某位慷慨的领主效力，领主会尊重他的谏言，赐他一匹良种白马，以答谢他的服务。他会高高骑在马上，庄严又高贵，一路微笑着俯视经过的平民……
That had not always been so. Once he had dreamed of being a maester in a castle, in service to some open-handed lord who would honor him for his wisdom and bestow a fine white horse on him to thank him for his service. How high he’d ride, how nobly, smiling down at the smallfolk when he passed them on the road …
直到有天晚上，在“羽笔酒樽”的大厅里，喝下两大杯烈性苹果酒之后，佩特夸口说自己不会永远是学徒。“当然了，”“懒人”里奥大声说，“你会是个作猪倌的前学徒，哈哈！”
One night in the Quill and Tankard’s common room, after his second tankard of fearsomely strong cider, Pate had boasted that he would not always be a novice. “Too true,” Lazy Leo had called out. “You’ll be a former novice, herding swine.”
他喝干杯中残渣。火炬照耀着“羽笔酒樽”所在的露台，犹如雾海中的光岛。下游远处，参天塔上的烽火漂浮在夜晚氤氲的水汽中，仿佛一轮朦胧魔幻的橙月，却难以提振他的情绪。
He drained the dregs of his tankard. The torchlit terrace of the Quill and Tankard was an island of light in a sea of mist this morning. Downriver, the distant beacon of the Hightower floated in the damp of night like a hazy orange moon, but the light did little to lift his spirits.
炼金术士应该到了呀？！难道这是个残酷的玩笑？还是那人出了事？这并非头一回好运在佩特身上变霉运了。他曾经沾沾自喜，因为被选中帮年迈的沃格雷夫博士管理乌鸦，但他做梦也没想到，自己还得给博士做饭、打扫清洁，每天早晨帮他穿衣服。人人都说，关于乌鸦的知识，沃格雷夫忘记的比其他学士知道的还多，佩特据此以为自己至少有望获得一个黑铁链条，结果发现沃格雷夫根本没办法传授任何东西。让老人仍顶着博士头衔完全出于礼节。不错，他曾经很伟大，现在却连用长袍遮掩脏污的内衣都做不到，半年前，几个助理学士发现他在图书馆哭泣，因为找不到回房的路。如今葛曼学士代替他执掌铁面具，正是这个葛曼指控佩特偷窃。
The alchemist should have come by now. Had it all been some cruel jape, or had something happened to the man? It would not have been the first time that good fortune had turned sour on Pate. He had once counted himself lucky to be chosen to help old Archmaester Walgrave with the ravens, never dreaming that before long he would also be fetching the man’s meals, sweeping out his chambers, and dressing him every morning. Everyone said that Walgrave had forgotten more of ravencraft than most maesters ever knew, so Pate assumed a black iron link was the least that he could hope for, only to find that Walgrave could not grant him one. The old man remained an archmaester only by courtesy. As great a maester as once he’d been, now his robes concealed soiled smallclothes oft as not, and half a year ago some acolytes found him weeping in the Library, unable to find his way back to his chambers. Maester Gormon sat below the iron mask in Walgrave’s place, the same Gormon who had once accused Pate of theft.
河边的苹果树上，一只夜莺开始歌唱，对于终日听惯了乌鸦的刺耳尖叫和无尽聒噪的佩特而言，真算得上是天籁之音。白鸦们知道他的名字，无论何时，只要看见他，就会彼此嘀咕叫嚷，“佩特，佩特，佩特，”直到他想尖叫。这些大白鸟是沃格雷夫博士的骄傲，沃格雷夫死后想让它们把自己吃掉，佩特怀疑它们也打算吃了他。
In the apple tree beside the water, a nightingale began to sing. It was a sweet sound, a welcome respite from the harsh screams and endless quorking of the ravens he had tended all day long. The white ravens knew his name, and would mutter it to each other whenever they caught sight of him, “Pate, Pate, Pate,” until he wanted to scream. The big white birds were Archmaester Walgrave’s pride. He wanted them to eat him when he died, but Pate half suspected that they meant to eat him too.
或许是烈性苹果酒作祟—其实他来这里并非为了喝酒，是正好遇上拉蕾萨请客，以庆贺获得铜链条，由于罪恶感，他不觉喝多了些—在他耳中，夜莺仿佛在兴奋地高歌：黑铁换黄金，黑铁换黄金，黑铁换黄金。真奇怪，这正是当晚萝希安排他跟陌生人会面时对方说的话。“你是谁？”佩特追问。那人答道，“我是炼金术士，你可以用黑铁来换我的黄金。”他手中出现了一枚金龙，在指节间翻来翻去，淡黄的金币在烛光中闪耀，其中一面是三头龙，另一面是某个死掉的国王。黑铁换黄金，他回想，没有更好的机会了。你要她吗？你爱她吗？“我不是小偷，”他告诉自称炼金术士的人，“我是学城的学徒。”炼金术士点点头，“你再考虑考虑吧，三天后，我会带着金龙币重回此地。”
Perhaps it was the fearsomely strong cider—he had not come here to drink, but Alleras had been buying to celebrate his copper link, and guilt had made him thirsty—but it almost sounded as if the nightingale were trilling gold for iron, gold for iron, gold for iron. Which was passing strange, because that was what the stranger had said the night Rosey brought the two of them together. “Who are you?” Pate had demanded of him, and the man had replied, “An alchemist. I can change iron into gold.” And then the coin was in his hand, dancing across his knuckles, the soft yellow gold shining in the candlelight. On one side was a three-headed dragon, on the other the head of some dead king. Gold for iron, Pate remembered, you won’t do better. Do you want her? Do you love her? “I am no thief,” he had told the man who called himself the alchemist, “I am a novice of the Citadel.” The alchemist had bowed his head, and said, “If you should reconsider, I shall return here three days hence, with my dragon.”
整整三天过去了，佩特回到“羽笔酒樽”，仍然拿不定主意，他没等到炼金术士，反而遇上了莫兰德、阿曼、“斯芬克斯”和鲁尼一行。若不加入庆祝，定会引起怀疑的。
Three days had passed. Pate had returned to the Quill and Tankard, still uncertain what he was, but instead of the alchemist he’d found Mollander and Armen and the Sphinx, with Roone in tow. It would have raised suspicions not to join them.
“羽笔酒樽”从不打烊，六百年来，它始终矗立在蜜酒河中的小岛上，不曾关门歇业。尽管这座高大的木房子向南歪斜，犹如醉酒的学徒，但佩特毫不怀疑它还将继续矗立六百年，售卖葡萄酒、麦酒及烈性苹果酒给过河人、海员、铁匠和歌手，僧侣与王公，学城的学徒与助理学士都是这儿的常客。
The Quill and Tankard never closed. For six hundred years it had been standing on its island in the Honeywine, and never once had its doors been shut to trade. Though the tall, timbered building leaned toward the south the way novices sometimes leaned after a tankard, Pate expected that the inn would go on standing for another six hundred years, selling wine and ale and fearsomely strong cider to rivermen and seamen, smiths and singers, priests and princes, and the novices and acolytes of the Citadel.
“旧镇不是全世界。”莫兰德大声嚷嚷。他是骑士之子，此刻已酩酊大醉。得知父亲死在黑水河之后，他便夜夜买醉。唉，即使身处远离战火的旧镇，有重重高墙保护，五王之战还是影响了所有人……不过贝尼狄克博士坚称根本没有所谓的“五王之战”，因为蓝礼·拜拉席恩早在巴隆·葛雷乔伊自封为王之前就遇害了。
“Oldtown is not the world,” declared Mollander, too loudly. He was a knight’s son, and drunk as drunk could be. Since they brought him word of his father’s death upon the Blackwater, he got drunk most every night. Even in Oldtown, far from the fighting and safe behind its walls, the War of the Five Kings had touched them all … although Archmaester Benedict insisted that there had never been a war of five kings, since Renly Baratheon had been slain before Balon Greyjoy had crowned himself.
“我父亲常说，领主的城堡之外，那才是世界。”莫兰德续道，“在魁尔斯、亚夏或夷地，龙一定是最不起眼的东西。最近水手们的故事说……”
“My father always said the world was bigger than any lord’s castle,” Mollander went on. “Dragons must be the least of the things a man might find in Qarth and Asshai and Yi Ti. These sailors’ stories …”
“……水手们的故事也只是故事，”阿曼打断他，“水手，亲爱的莫兰德，我敢打赌，你随时去码头边，都可以找到那种人，要么自称跟美人鱼睡过觉，要么吹嘘在鱼肚子里呆过一年。”
“… are stories told by sailors,” Armen interrupted. “Sailors, my dear Mollander. Go back down to the docks, and I wager you’ll find sailors who’ll tell you of the mermaids that they bedded, or how they spent a year in the belly of a fish.”
“你怎么知道他们没有？”莫兰德踏着沉重的步伐在草地上找苹果，“除非你亲自钻到鱼肚子里去过。个别水手的故事，没错，你可以付之一笑，但四艘船上操四种不同语言的桨手讲述同一个故事……”
“How do you know they didn’t?” Mollander thumped through the grass, looking for more apples. “You’d need to be down the belly yourself to swear they weren’t. One sailor with a story, aye, a man might laugh at that, but when oarsmen off four different ships tell the same tale in four different tongues …”
“不是同一个故事，”阿曼坚持，“亚夏的龙，魁尔斯的龙，弥林的龙，多斯拉克的龙，解放奴隶的龙……故事的版本不一样。”
“The tales are not the same,” insisted Armen. “Dragons in Asshai, dragons in Qarth, dragons in Meereen, Dothraki dragons, dragons freeing slaves … each telling differs from the last.”
“只有细节不同。”莫兰德喝醉之后变得更加执拗，清醒时他已经够顽固了。“故事里面都有龙，还有一位年轻美丽的女王。”
“Only in details.” Mollander grew more stubborn when he drank, and even when sober he was bullheaded. “All speak of dragons, and a beautiful young queen.”
佩特只关心金龙。他琢磨着炼金术士。这是第三天。他说过会回来的。
The only dragon Pate cared about was made of yellow gold. He wondered what had happened to the alchemist. The third day. He said he’d be here.
“你脚边有一只苹果，”拉蕾萨朝莫兰德喊，“我箭囊里还有两支箭。”
“There’s another apple near your foot,” Alleras called to Mollander, “and I still have two arrows in my quiver.”
“你的箭囊见鬼去吧。”莫兰德抄起掉落的果子。“生虫了。”他抱怨，但还是扔了出去。苹果开始下坠时，被箭只逮个正着，干净利落地劈成两半。其中一半掉在塔顶，然后滚到下面较低的屋檐，弹落至阿曼身边一尺远处。“把蠕虫切成两半，它会变成两条虫子。”助理学士教导他们。
“Fuck your quiver.” Mollander scooped up the windfall. “This one’s wormy,” he complained, but he threw it anyway. The arrow caught the apple as it began to fall and sliced it clean in two. One half landed on a turret roof, tumbled to a lower roof, bounced, and missed Armen by a foot. “If you cut a worm in two, you make two worms,” the acolyte informed them.
“苹果也能这样就好了，天底下便没人会饿肚子。”拉蕾萨带着惯常的微笑说。“斯芬克斯”总是面带微笑，仿佛知道什么隐秘的玩笑，这让他看起来有点不怀好意，尤其是他还长着尖下巴、尖鼻子、尖额头和一头乌黑浓密的短鬈发。
“If only it worked that way with apples, no one would ever need go hungry,” said Alleras with one of his soft smiles. The Sphinx was always smiling, as if he knew some secret jape. It gave him a wicked look that went well with his pointed chin, widow’s peak, and dense mat of close-cropped jet-black curls.
拉蕾萨将成为学士。他在学城才待一年，却已铸就了颈链的三个链条。阿曼的链条虽多，但每一个都要花费一年工夫，然而最终，他也会成为学士。鲁尼和莫兰德仍是光脖子的学徒，可鲁尼还小，而莫兰德喜好饮酒胜于阅读。
Alleras would make a maester. He had only been at the Citadel for a year, yet already he had forged three links of his maester’s chain. Armen might have more, but each of his had taken him a year to earn. Still, he would make a maester too. Roone and Mollander remained pink-necked novices, but Roone was very young and Mollander preferred drinking to reading.
至于佩特……
Pate, though …
他在学城已有五年，从西境过来时不过十三岁，岁月匆匆，脖子却仍跟初来乍到时一样光溜溜的。他两度相信自己作好了准备。第一次是在维林博士面前展示天文知识，结果教他明白了维林这“酸醋”的外号果真名不虚传；佩特整整花了两年时间才鼓起勇气再作尝试。这回他信托于慈祥的老安布罗斯博士，老人素来言行温和，但事实证明，安布罗斯的叹息和维林的嘲讽一样令人痛苦。
He had been five years at the Citadel, arriving when he was no more than three-and-ten, yet his neck remained as pink as it had been on the day he first arrived from the westerlands. Twice had he believed himself ready. The first time he had gone before Archmaester Vaellyn to demonstrate his knowledge of the heavens. Instead he learned how Vinegar Vaellyn had earned that name. It took Pate two years to summon up the courage to try again. This time he submitted himself to kindly old Archmaester Ebrose, renowned for his soft voice and gentle hands, but Ebrose’s sighs had somehow proved just as painful as Vaellyn’s barbs.
“最后一只苹果，”拉蕾萨承诺，“然后我就告诉你们，我对这些龙的看法。”
“One last apple,” promised Alleras, “and I will tell you what I suspect about these dragons.”
“你会晓得什么我不晓得的？”莫兰德咕哝。他发现树枝上有只苹果，便跳起来将它摘下，再扔出去。拉蕾萨将弓弦拉至耳边，优雅地跟踪目标的飞行轨迹。苹果刚要下坠，箭离弦而出。
“What could you know that I don’t?” grumbled Mollander. He spied an apple on a branch, jumped up, pulled it down, and threw. Alleras drew his bowstring back to his ear, turning gracefully to follow the target in flight. He loosed his shaft just as the apple began to fall.
“你的最后一箭老是失手。”鲁尼说。
“You always miss your last shot,” said Roone.
话音未落，苹果便完好无损地掉进河中。
The apple splashed down into the river, untouched.
“看到没？”鲁尼说。
“See?” said Roone.
“你拿大满贯那天，就是无法再进步的时候。”说罢拉蕾萨卸下弓弦，将长弓轻巧地塞入皮套之中。这把弓由金心木雕成，那是产自盛夏群岛的稀有木材。佩特碰过这把弓，但拉不动。“斯芬克斯”看起来弱不禁风，实际上那双细长的胳膊很有力量，他思忖。此时拉蕾萨一边将腿跨过板凳，一边伸手去取酒杯。“龙有三个头。”他拖着柔和的多恩腔调宣布。
“The day you make them all is the day you stop improving.” Alleras unstrung his longbow and eased it into its leather case. The bow was carved from goldenheart, a rare and fabled wood from the Summer Isles. Pate had tried to bend it once, and failed. The Sphinx looks slight, but there’s strength in those slim arms, he reflected, as Alleras threw a leg across the bench and reached for his wine cup. “The dragon has three heads,” he announced in his soft Dornish drawl.
“这是个谜题吗？”鲁尼想知道，“传说中的斯芬克斯是出谜题者。”
“Is this a riddle?” Roone wanted to know. “Sphinxes always speak in riddles in the tales.”
“这不是谜题。”拉蕾萨呷了口葡萄酒。其他人喝的都是“羽笔酒樽”闻名天下的烈性苹果酒，他却喜欢来自他母亲家乡的奇特的甜葡萄酒，即使在旧镇，这种红酒也价格不菲。
“No riddle.” Alleras sipped his wine. The rest of them were quaffing tankards of the fearsomely strong cider that the Quill and Tankard was renowned for, but he preferred the strange, sweet wines of his mother’s country. Even in Oldtown such wines did not come cheap.
“懒人”里奥给拉蕾萨取了“斯芬克斯”的绰号。传说斯芬克斯是个四不像：人面，狮身，鹰翼。拉蕾萨正是如此：他父亲是多恩人，母亲却为黑皮肤的盛夏群岛人，他自己的皮肤如柚木般黝黑，跟学城大门两侧的绿色大理石斯芬克斯像相同，拉蕾萨的眼睛是玛瑙色。
It had been Lazy Leo who dubbed Alleras “the Sphinx.” A sphinx is a bit of this, a bit of that: a human face, the body of a lion, the wings of a hawk. Alleras was the same: his father was a Dornishman, his mother a black-skinned Summer Islander. His own skin was dark as teak. And like the green marble sphinxes that flanked the Citadel’s main gate, Alleras had eyes of onyx.
“从来没有一条龙会长三个脑袋，除了盾牌和旗帜上画的纹章，”助理学士阿曼坚称，“那充其量只是图案而已。况且，坦格利安家的人死光了。”
“No dragon has ever had three heads except on shields and banners,” Armen the Acolyte said firmly. “That was a heraldic charge, no more. Furthermore, the Targaryens are all dead.”
“没有死光，”拉蕾萨道，“乞丐王的妹妹还活着。”
“Not all,” said Alleras. “The Beggar King had a sister.”
“她不是脑袋在墙上撞碎了吗？”鲁尼说。
“I thought her head was smashed against a wall,” said Roone.
“不对，”拉蕾萨说，“你说的是雷加王子之子伊耿，他被兰尼斯特狮子手下的勇士杀害。我讲的是雷加的妹妹，龙石岛陷落前出生在那里，名曰丹妮莉丝。”
“No,” said Alleras. “It was Prince Rhaegar’s young son Aegon whose head was dashed against the wall by the Lion of Lannister’s brave men. We speak of Rhaegar’s sister, born on Dragonstone before its fall. The one they called Daenerys.”
“‘风暴降生’！我想起来了。”莫兰德高举酒杯，剩余的苹果酒飞溅出来。“为她干杯！”他一饮而尽，“砰”的一声将空杯子砸在桌上，打了个嗝，用手背抹抹嘴。“萝希在哪儿？让我们为合法的女王再喝一轮，怎么样？”
“The Stormborn. I recall her now.” Mollander lifted his tankard high, sloshing the cider that remained. “Here’s to her!” He gulped, slammed his empty tankard down, belched, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Where’s Rosey? Our rightful queen deserves another round of cider, wouldn’t you say?”
助理学士阿曼面色惊恐：“小声点，蠢货，这种事开不得玩笑。隔墙有耳啊，到处都有八爪蜘蛛的眼线。”
Armen the Acolyte looked alarmed. “Lower your voice, fool. You should not even jape about such things. You never know who could be listening. The Spider has ears everywhere.”
“噢，尿裤子了，阿曼？行了，我只是建议咱们多喝杯酒，又不是要起兵造反。”
“Ah, don’t piss your breeches, Armen. I was proposing a drink, not a rebellion.”
有人咯咯窃笑，接着，一个轻柔狡猾的声音从佩特身后传来。“我就知道你是个叛徒，青蛙。”“懒人”里奥由摇晃的古旧木板桥走过来。他一身绿金条纹的绸缎衣服，黑丝披肩由一朵玉雕玫瑰别住，衣襟前染满酒渍，由颜色判断，是深红色的酒。一缕浅金头发悬垂下来，遮住了一只眼睛。
Pate heard a chuckle. A soft, sly voice called out from behind him. “I always knew you were a traitor, Hopfrog.” Lazy Leo was slouching by the foot of the old plank bridge, draped in satin striped in green and gold, with a black silk half cape pinned to his shoulder by a rose of jade. The wine he’d dribbled down his front had been a robust red, judging from the color of the spots. A lock of his ash-blond hair fell down across one eye.
莫兰德看到他就怒发冲冠。“操你奶奶的。滚一边去。这里不欢迎你。”拉蕾萨伸出一只手按住他胳膊，让他冷静，阿曼则皱起眉头，“里奥大人，据我所知，您不是被学城禁足，还要待上……”
Mollander bristled at the sight of him. “Bugger that. Go away. You are not welcome here.” Alleras laid a hand upon his arm to calm him, whilst Armen frowned. “Leo. My lord. I had understood that you were still confined to the Citadel for …”
“……三天。”“懒人”里奥耸耸肩，“佩雷斯坦说世界已有四万年历史，莫拉斯却说有五十万年。总而言之，三天算什么？”露台中有十几张空桌，里奥偏偏坐到他们这桌。“请我喝杯青亭岛的金色葡萄酒，青蛙，或许我不会把你的祝酒词禀告老爸。我在‘多变轮盘’那里牌运不佳，又把最后一枚银鹿花在了晚餐上。李子酱乳猪，塞了栗子跟白松菇，喏，人总得吃饭哪。对啦，你们这帮小子都吃些什么？”
“… three more days.” Lazy Leo shrugged. “Perestan says the world is forty thousand years old. Mollos says five hundred thousand. What are three days, I ask you?” Though there were a dozen empty tables on the terrace, Leo sat himself at theirs. “Buy me a cup of Arbor gold, Hopfrog, and perhaps I won’t inform my father of your toast. The tiles turned against me at the Checkered Hazard, and I wasted my last stag on supper. Suckling pig in plum sauce, stuffed with chestnuts and white truffles. A man must eat. What did you lads have?”
“羊肉，”莫兰德咕哝。听起来他不太满意。“我们分食一块煮羊肉。”
“Mutton,” muttered Mollander. He sounded none too pleased about it. “We shared a haunch of boiled mutton.”
“那肯定管饱。”里奥转向拉蕾萨。“怎么着？豪门之子应该慷慨点儿，斯芬克斯。我知道你获得了铜链条，请我喝一杯以表庆贺怎么样？”
“I’m certain it was filling.” Leo turned to Alleras. “A lord’s son should be open-handed, Sphinx. I understand you won your copper link. I’ll drink to that.”
拉蕾萨回以微笑。“我只请朋友喝酒。而且我并非豪门之子，我说过，我母亲是生意人。”
Alleras smiled back at him. “I only buy for friends. And I am no lord’s son, I’ve told you that. My mother was a trader.”
里奥淡褐色的眼睛里闪烁着酒意和恶毒。“你母亲是只盛夏群岛的猴子，哼，反正只要两腿间有个洞，多恩人就会上。噢，别生气啊，你的皮肤或许跟榛果壳一样，但至少会洗澡，不像我们的雀斑猪倌。”他朝佩特挥挥手。
Leo’s eyes were hazel, bright with wine and malice. “Your mother was a monkey from the Summer Isles. The Dornish will fuck anything with a hole between its legs. Meaning no offense. You may be brown as a nut, but at least you bathe. Unlike our spotted pig boy.” He waved a hand toward Pate.