grrm.astormofswords-第254部分
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e way； but none of the cuts so much as touched him。 And then the Tickler leapt over a bench quick as a snake； and slashed at the back of the Hound's neck with the edge of his short sword。
They're killing him。 Arya had no more cups； but there was something better to throw。 She drew the dagger they'd robbed off the dying archer and tried to fling it at the Tickler the way he'd done。 It wasn't the same as throwing a rock or a crabapple； though。 The knife wobbled； and hit him in the arm hilt first。 He never even felt it。 He was too intent on Clegane。
As he stabbed； Clegane twisted violently aside； winning himself half a heartbeat's respite。 Blood ran down his face and from the gash in his neck。 Both of the Mountain's men came after him hard； Polliver hacking at his head and shoulders while the Tickler darted in to stab at back and belly。 The heavy stone flagon was still on the table。 Arya grabbed it with two hands； but as she lifted it someone grabbed her arm。 The flagon slipped from her fingers and crashed to the floor。 Wrenched around； she found herself nose to nose with the squire。 You stupid； you forgot all about him。 His big white pimple had burst； she saw。
〃Are you the puppy's puppy？〃 He had his sword in his right hand and her arm in his left； but her own hands were free； so she jerked his knife from its sheath and sheathed it again in his belly； twisting。 He wasn't wearing mail or even boiled leather； so it went right in； the same way Needle had when she killed the stableboy at King's Landing。 The squire's eyes got big and he let go of her arm。 Arya spun to the door and wrenched the Tickler's knife from the wall。
Polliver and the Tickler had driven the Hound into a corner behind a bench； and one of them had given him an ugly red gash on his upper thigh to go with his other wounds。 Sandor was leaning against the wall； bleeding and breathing noisily。 He looked as though he could barely stand； let alone fight。 〃Throw down the sword； and we'll take you back to Harrenhal；〃 Polliver told him。
〃So Gregor can finish me himself？〃
The Tickler said； 〃Maybe he'll give you to me。〃
〃If you want me； e get me。〃 Sandor pushed away from the wall and stood in a half…crouch behind the bench； his sword held across his body。
〃You think we won't？〃 said Polliver。 〃You're drunk。〃
〃Might be；〃 said the Hound； 〃but you're dead。〃 His foot lashed out and caught the bench； driving it hard into Polliver's shins。 Somehow the bearded man kept his feet； but the Hound ducked under his wild slash and brought his own sword up in a vicious backhand cut。 Blood spattered on the ceiling and walls。 The blade caught in the middle of Polliver's face； and when the Hound wrenched it loose half his head came with it。
The Tickler backed away。 Arya could smell his fear。 The shortsword in his hand suddenly seemed almost a toy against the long blade the Hound was holding； and he wasn't armored either。 He moved swiftly； light on his feet； never taking his eyes off Sandor Clegane。 it was the easiest thing in the world for Arya to step up behind him and stab him。
〃Is there gold hidden in the village？〃 she shouted as she drove the blade up through his back。 〃Is there silver？ Gems？〃 She stabbed twice more。 〃Is there food？ Where is Lord Beric？〃 She was on top of him by then； still stabbing。 〃Where did he go？ How many men were with him？ How many knights？ How many bowmen？ How many； how many； how many； how many； how many； how many？ is there gold in the village？〃
Her hands were red and sticky when Sandor dragged her off him。 〃Enough；〃 was all he said。 He was bleeding like a butchered pig himself； and dragging one leg when he walked。
〃There's one more；〃 Arya reminded him。
The squire had pulled the knife out of his belly and was trying to stop the blood with his hands。 When the Hound yanked him upright； he screamed and started to blubber like a baby。 〃Mercy；〃 he wept； 〃please。 Don't kill me。 Mother have mercy。〃
〃Do I look like your bloody mother？〃 The Hound looked like nothing human。 〃You killed this one too；〃 he told Arya。 〃Pricked him in his bowels； that's the end of him。 He'll be a long time dying； though。〃
The boy didn't seemed to hear him。 〃I came for the girls；〃 he whimpered。 〃 。 。 。 make me a man； Polly said 。 。 。 oh； gods； please； take me to a castle 。 。 。 a maester； take me to a maester； my father's got gold 。 。 。 it was only for the girls 。 。 。 mercy； ser。〃
The Hound gave him a crack across the face that made him scream again。 〃Don't call me ser。〃 He turned back to Arya。 〃This one is yours； she…wolf。 You do it。〃
She knew what he meant。 Arya went to Polliver and knelt in his blood long enough to undo his swordbelt。 Hanging beside his dagger was a slimmer blade； too long to be a dirk； too short to be a man's sword 。 。 。 but it felt just right in her hand。
〃You remember where the heart is？〃 the Hound asked。
She nodded。 The squire rolled his eyes。 〃Mercy。〃
Needle slipped between his ribs and gave it to him。
〃Good。〃 Sandor's voice was thick with pain。 〃If these three were whoring here； Gregor must hold the ford as well as Harrenhal。 More of his pets could ride up any moment； and we've killed enough of the bloody buggers for one day。〃
〃Where will we go？〃 she asked。
〃Saltpans。〃 He put a big hand on her shoulder to keep from falling。 〃Get some wine； she…wolf。 And take whatever coin they have as well； we'll need it。 If there's ships at Saltpans； we can reach the Vale by sea。〃 His mouth twitched at her； as more blood ran down from where his ear had been。 〃Maybe Lady Lysa will marry you to her little Robert。 There's a match I'd like to see。〃 He started to laugh； then groaned instead。
When the time came to leave； he needed Arya's help to get back up on Stranger。 He had tied a strip of cloth about his neck and another around his thigh； and taken the squire's cloak off its peg by the door。 The cloak was green； with a green arrow on a white bend； but when the Hound wadded it up and pressed it to his ear it soon turned red。 Arya was afraid he would collapse the moment they set out； but somehow he stayed in the saddle。
They could not risk meeting whoever held the ruby ford； so instead of following the kingsroad they angled south by east； through weedy fields； woods； and marshes。 It was hours before they reached the banks of the Trident。 The river had returned meekly to its accustomed channel； Arya saw； all its wet brown rage vanished with the rains。 It's tired too； she thought。
Close by the water's edge； they found some willows rising from a jumble of weathered rocks。 Together the rocks and trees formed a sort of natural fort where they could hide from both river and trail。 〃Here will do；〃 the Hound said。 〃Water the horses and gather some deadwood for a fire。〃 When he dismounted； he had to catch himself on a tree limb to keep from falling。
〃Won't the smoke be seen？〃
〃Anyone wants to find us； all they need to do is follow my blood。 Water and wood。 But bring me that wineskin first。〃
When he got the fire going； Sandor propped up his helm in the flames； emptied half the wineskin into it； and collapsed back against a jut of moss…covered stone as if he never meant to rise again。 He made Arya wash out the squire's cloak and cut it into strips。 Those went into his helm as well。 〃If I had more wine； I'd drink till I was dead to the world。 Maybe I ought to send you back to that bloody inn for another skin or three。〃
〃No；〃 Arya said。 He wouldn't； would he？ If he does； I'll just leave him and ride off。
Sandor laughed at the fear on her face。 〃A jest； wolf girl。 A bloody jest。 Find me a stick； about so long and not too big around。 And wash the mud off it。 I hate the taste of mud。〃
He didn't like the first two sticks she brought him。 By the time she found one that suited him； the flames had scorched his dog's snout black all the way to the eyes。 Inside the wine was boiling madly。 〃Get the cup from my bedroll and dip it half full；〃 he told her。 〃Be careful。 You knock the damn thing over； I will send you back for more。 Take the wine and pour it on my wounds。 Think you can do that？〃 Arya nodded。 〃Then what are you waiting for？〃 he growled。
Her knuckles brushed the steel the first time she filled the cup； burning her s
