grrm.astormofswords-第118部分

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nter　of　the　channel；　into　the　rising　sun。
　〃Now；〃　her　uncle　urged。　Beside　him；　her　brother　Edmure…Lord　Edmure　now　in　truth；　and　how　long　would　that　take　to　grow　used　to？　nocked　an　arrow　to　his　bowstring。　His　squire　held　a　brand　to　its　point。　Edmure　waited　until　the　flame　caught；　then　lifted　the　great　bow；　drew　the　string　to　his　ear；　and　let　fly。　With　a　deep　thrum；　the　arrow　sped　upward。　Catelyn　followed　its　flight　with　her　eyes　and　heart；　until　it　plunged　into　the　water　with　a　soft　hiss；　well　astern　of　Lord　Hoster's　boat。
　Edmure　cursed　softly。　〃The　wind；〃　he　said；　pulling　a　second　arrow。　〃Again。〃　The　brand　kissed　the　oil…soaked　rag　behind　the　arrowhead；　the　flames　went　licking　up；　Edmure　lifted；　pulled；　and　released。　High　and　far　the　arrow　flew。　Too　far。　It　vanished　in　the　river　a　dozen　yards　beyond　the　boat；　its　fire　winking　out　in　an　instant。　A　flush　was　creeping　up　Edmure's　neck；　red　as　his　beard。　〃Once　more；〃　he　manded；　taking　a　third　arrow　from　the　quiver。　He　is　as　tight　as　his　bowstring；　Catelyn　thought。
　Ser　Brynden　must　have　seen　the　same　thing。　〃Let　me；　my　lord；〃　he　offered。
　〃I　can　do　it；〃　Edmure　insisted。　He　let　them　light　the　arrow；　jerked　the　bow　up；　took　a　deep　breath；　drew　back　the　arrow。　For　a　long　moment　he　seemed　to　hesitate　while　the　fire　crept　up　the　shaft；　crackling。　Finally　he　released。　The　arrow　flashed　up　and　up；　and　finally　curved　down　again；　falling；　falling　。　。　。　and　hissing　past　the　billowing　sail。
　A　narrow　miss；　no　more　than　a　handspan；　and　yet　a　miss。　〃The　Others　take　it！〃　her　brother　swore。　The　boat　was　almost　out　of　range；　drifting　in　and　out　among　the　river　mists。　Wordless；　Edmure　thrust　the　bow　at　his　uncle。
　〃Swiftly；〃　Ser　Brynden　said；　He　nocked　an　arrow；　held　it　steady　for　the　brand；　drew　and　released　before　Catelyn　was　quite　sure　that　the　fire　had　caught　。　。　。　but　as　the　shot　rose；　she　saw　the　flames　trailing　through　the　air；　a　pale　orange　pennon。　The　boat　had　vanished　in　the　mists。　Falling；　the　flaming　arrow　was　swallowed　up　as　well　。　。　。　but　only　for　a　heartbeat。　Then；　sudden　as　hope；　they　saw　the　red　bloom　flower。　The　sails　took　fire；　and　the　fog　glowed　pink　and　orange。　For　a　moment　Catelyn　saw　the　outline　of　the　boat　clearly；　wreathed　in　leaping　flames。
　Watch　for　me；　little　cat；　she　could　hear　him　whisper。
　Catelyn　reached　out　blindly；　groping　for　her　brother's　hand；　but　Edmure　had　moved　away；　to　stand　alone　on　the　highest　point　of　the　battlements。　Her　uncle　Brynden　took　her　hand　instead；　twining　his　strong　fingers　through　hers。　Together　they　watched　the　little　fire　grow　smaller　as　the　burning　boat　receded　in　the　distance。
　And　then　it　was　gone　。　。　。　drifting　downriver　still；　perhaps；　or　broken　up　and　sinking。　The　weight　of　his　armor　would　carry　Lord　Hoster　down　to　rest　in　the　soft　mud　of　the　riverbed；　in　the　watery　halls　where　the　Tullys　held　eternal　court；　with　schools　of　fish　their　last　attendants。
　No　sooner　had　the　burning　boat　vanished　from　their　sight　than　Edmure　walked　off。　Catelyn　would　have　liked　to　embrace　him；　if　only　for　a　moment；　to　sit　for　an　hour　or　a　night　or　the　turn　of　a　moon　to　speak　of　the　dead　and　mourn。　Yet　she　knew　as　well　as　he　that　this　was　not　the　time；　he　was　Lord　of　Riverrun　now；　and　his　knights　were　falling　in　around　him；　munnuring　condolences　and　promises　of　fealty；　walling　him　off　from　something　as　small　as　a　sister's　grief。　Edmure　listened；　hearing　none　of　the　words。
　〃It　is　no　disgrace　to　miss　your　shot；〃　her　uncle　told　her　quietly。　〃Edmure　should　hear　that。　The　day　my　own　lord　father　went　downriver；　Hoster　missed　as　well。〃
　〃With　his　first　shaft。〃　Catelyn　had　been　too　young　to　remember；　but　Lord　Hoster　had　often　told　the　tale。　〃His　second　found　the　sail。〃　She　sighed。　Edmure　was　not　as　strong　as　he　seemed。　Their　father's　death　had　been　a　mercy　when　it　came　at　last；　but　even　so　her　brother　had　taken　it　hard。
　Last　night　in　his　cups　he　had　broken　down　and　wept；　full　of　regrets　for　things　undone　and　words　unsaid。　He　ought　never　to　have　ridden　off　to　fight　his　battle　on　the　fords；　he　told　her　tearfully；　he　should　have　stayed　at　their　father's　bedside。　〃I　should　have　been　with　him；　as　you　were；〃　he　said。　〃Did　he　speak　of　me　at　the　end？　Tell　me　true；　Cat。　Did　he　ask　for　me？〃
　Lord　Hoster's　last　word　had　been　〃Tansy；〃　but　Catelyn　could　not　bring　herself　to　tell　him　that。　〃He　whispered　your　name；〃　she　lied；　and　her　brother　had　nodded　gratefully　and　kissed　her　hand。　If　he　had　not　tried　to　drown　his　grief　and　guilt；　he　might　have　been　able　to　bend　a　bow；　she　thought　to　herself；　sighing；　but　that　was　something　else　she　dare　not　say。
　The　Blackfish　escorted　her　down　from　the　battlements　to　where　Robb　stood　among　his　bannermen；　his　young　queen　at　his　side。　When　he　saw　her；　her　son　took　her　silently　in　his　arms。
　〃Lord　Hoster　looked　as　noble　as　a　king；　my　lady；〃　murmured　Jeyne。　〃Would　that　I　had　been　given　the　chance　to　know　him。〃
　〃And　I　to　know　him　better；〃　added　Robb。
　〃He　would　have　wished　that　too；〃　said　Catelyn。　〃There　were　too　many　leagues　between　Riverrun　and　Winterfell。〃　And　too　many　mountains　and　rivers　and　armies　between　Riverrun　and　the　Eyrie；　it　would　seem。　Lysa　had　made　no　reply　to　her　letter。
　And　from　King's　Landing　came　only　silence　as　well。　By　now　she　had　hoped　that　Brienne　and　Ser　Cleos　would　have　reached　the　city　with　their　captive。　It　might　even　be　that　Brienne　was　on　her　way　back；　and　the　girls　with　her。　Ser　Gleos　swore　he　would　make　the　Imp　send　a　raven　once　the　trade　was　made。　He　swore　it！　Ravens　did　not　always　win　through。　Some　bowman　could　have　brought　the　bird　down　and　roasted　him　for　supper。　The　letter　that　would　have　set　her　heart　at　ease　might　even　now　be　lying　by　the　ashes　of　some　campfire　beside　a　pile　of　raven　bones。
　Others　were　waiting　to　offer　Robb　their　consolations；　so　Catelyn　stood　aside　patiently　while　Lord　Jason　Mallister；　the　Greatjon；　and　Ser　Rolph　Spicer　spoke　to　him　each　in　turn。　But　when　Lothar　Frey　approached；　she　gave　his　sleeve　a　tug。　Robb　turned；　and　waited　to　hear　what　Lothar　would　say。
　〃Your　Grace。〃　A　plump　man　in　his　middle　thirties；　Lothar　Frey　had　close…set　eyes；　a　pointed　beard；　and　dark　hair　that　fell　to　his　shoulders　in　ringlets。　A　leg　twisted　at　birth　had　earned　him　the　name　Lame　Lothar。　He　had　served　as　his　father's　steward　for　the　past　dozen　years。　〃We　are　loath　to　intrude　upon　your　grief；　but　perhaps　you　might　grant　us　audience　tonight？〃
　〃It　would　be　my　pleasure；〃　said　Robb。　〃It　was　never　my　wish　to　sow　enmity　between　us。〃
　〃Nor　mine　to　be　the　cause　of　it；〃　said　Queen　Jeyne。
　Lothar　Frey　smiled。　〃I　understand；　as　does　my　lord　father。　He　instructed　me　to　say　that　he　was　young　once；　and　well　remembers　what　it　is　like　to　lose　one's　heart　to　beauty。〃
　Catelyn　doubted　very　much　that　Lord　Walder　had　said　any　such　thing；　or　that　he　had　ever　lost　his　heart　to　beauty。　The　Lord　of　the　Crossing　had　outlived　seven　wives　and　was　now　wed　to　his　eighth；　but　he　spoke　of　them　only　as　bedwarmers　and　brood　mares。　Still；　the　words　were　fairly　spoken；　and　she　could　scarce　object　to　the　pliment。　Nor　did　Robb。　〃Your　father　is　most　gracious；〃　he　said。　〃I　shall　look　forward　to　our　talk。〃
　Lothar　bowed；　kissed　the　queen's　hand；　and　withdrew。　By　then　a　dozen　others　had　gathered　for　a　word。　Robb　spoke　with　them　each；　giving　a　thanks　here；　a　smile　there；　as　needed。　Only　when　the　last　of　them　was　done　did　he　turn　back　to　Catelyn。　〃There　is　something　we　must　speak　of。　Will　you　walk　with　me？〃
　〃As　you　mand；　Your　Grace。〃
　〃That　wasn't　a　mand；　Mother。〃
　〃It　will　be　my　pleasure；　then。〃　Her　son　had　treated　her　kindly　enough　since　returning　to　Riverrun；　yet　he　seldom　sought　her　out。　If　he　was　more　fortable　with　his　young　queen；　she　could　scarcely　blame　him。　leyne　makes　him　smile；　and　I　have　nothing　to　share　with　him　but　grief。　He　seemed　to　enjoy　the　pany　of　his　bride's　brothers；　as　well；　young　Rollam　his　squire　and　Ser　Raynald　his　standard…bearer。　They　are　standing　in　the　boots　of　those　he's　lost；　Catelyn　realized　when　she　watched　them　together。　Rollam　has　taken　Bran's　place；　and　Raynald　is　part　Theon　and　part　Jon　Snow　Only　with　the　Westerlings　did　she　see　Robb　smile；　or　hear　him　laugh　like　the　boy　he　was。　To　the　others　he　was　always　the　King　in　the　North；　head　bowed　beneath　the　weight　o