grrm.astormofswords-第267部分

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　Jon　said　there　could　be　honor　in　a　lie；　if　it　were　told　for　the　right　reason。　Sam　said；　〃If　we　do　not　choose　a　Lord　mander　tonight；　King　Stannis　means　to　name　Cotter　Pyke。　He　said　as　much　to　Maester　Aemon　this　morning；　after　all　of　you　had　left。〃
　〃I　see。〃　Ser　Denys　rose。　〃I　must　think　on　this。　Thank　you；　Samwell。　And　give　my　thanks　to　Maester　Aemon　as　well。〃
　Sam　was　trembling　by　the　time　he　left　the　Lance。　What　have　I　done？　he　thought。　What　have　I　said？　If　they　caught　him　in　his　lie；　they　would　。　。　。　what？　Send　me　to　the　Wall？　Rip　my　entrails　out？　Turn　me　into　a　wight？　Suddenly　it　all　seemed　absurd。　How　could　he　be　so　frightened　of　Cotter　Pyke　and　Ser　Denys　Mallister；　when　he　had　seen　a　raven　eating　Small　Paul's　face？
　Pyke　was　not　pleased　by　his　return。　〃You　again？　Make　it　quick；　you　are　starting　to　annoy　me。〃
　〃I　only　need　a　moment　more；〃　Sam　promised。　〃You　won't　withdraw　for　Ser　Denys；　you　said；　but　you　might　for　someone　else。〃
　〃Who　is　it　this　time；　Slayer？　You？〃
　〃No。　A　fighter。　Donal　Noye　gave　him　the　Wall　when　the　wildlings　came；　and　he　was　the　Old　Bear's　squire。　The　only　thing　is；　he's　bastard…born。〃
　Cotter　Pyke　laughed。　〃Bloody　hell。　That　would　shove　a　spear　up　Mallister's　arse；　wouldn't　it？　Might　be　worth　it　just　for　that。　How　bad　could　the　boy　be？〃　He　snorted。　〃I'd　be　better；　though。　I'm　what's　needed；　any　fool　can　see　that。〃
　〃Any　fool；〃　Sam　agreed；　〃even　me。　But　。　。　。　well；　I　shouldn't　be　telling　you；　but　。　。　。　King　Stannis　means　to　force　Ser　Denys　on　us；　if　we　do　not　choose　a　man　tonight。　I　heard　him　tell　Maester　Aemon　that；　after　the　rest　of　you　were　sent　away。〃
　
　CHAPTER　79
　JON
　
　Iron　Emmett　was　a　long；　lanky　young　ranger　whose　endurance；　strength；　and　swordsmanship　were　the　pride　of　Eastwatch。　Jon　always　came　away　from　their　sessions　stiff　and　sore；　and　woke　the　next　day　covered　with　bruises；　which　was　just　the　way　he　wanted　it。　He　would　never　get　any　better　going　up　against　the　likes　of　Satin　and　Horse；　or　even　Grenn。
　Most　days　he　gave　as　good　as　he　got；　Jon　liked　to　think；　but　not　today。　He　had　hardly　slept　last　night；　and　after　an　hour　of　restless　tossing　he　had　given　up　even　the　attempt；　dressed；　and　walked　the　top　of　the　Wall　till　the　sun　came　up；　wrestling　with　Stannis　Baratheon's　offer。　The　lack　of　sleep　was　catching　up　with　him　now；　and　Emmett　was　hammering　him　mercilessly　across　the　yard；　driving　him　back　on　his　heels　with　one　long　looping　cut　after　another；　and　slamming　him　with　his　shield　from　time　to　time　for　good　measure。　Jon's　arm　had　gone　numb　from　the　shock　of　impact；　and　the　edgeless　practice　sword　seemed　to　be　growing　heavier　with　every　passing　moment。
　He　was　almost　ready　to　lower　his　blade　and　call　a　halt　when　Emmett　feinted　low　and　came　in　over　his　shield　with　a　savage　forehand　slash　that　caught　Jon　on　the　temple。　He　staggered；　his　helm　and　head　both　ringing　from　the　force　of　the　blow。　For　half　a　heartbeat　the　world　beyond　his　eyeslit　was　a　blur。
　And　then　the　years　were　gone；　and　he　was　back　at　Winterfell　once　more；　wearing　a　quilted　leather　coat　in　place　of　mail　and　plate。　His　sword　was　made　of　wood；　and　it　was　Robb　who　stood　facing　him；　not　iron　Emmett。
　Every　morning　they　had　trained　together；　since　they　were　big　enough　to　walk；　Snow　and　Stark；　spinning　and　slashing　about　the　wards　of　Winterfell；　shouting　and　laughing；　sometimes　crying　when　there　was　no　one　else　to　see。　They　were　not　little　boys　when　they　fought；　but　knights　and　mighty　heroes。　〃I'm　Prince　Aemon　the　Dragonknight；〃　Jon　would　call　out；　and　Robb　would　shout　back；　〃Well；　I'm　Florian　the　Fool。〃　Or　Robb　would　say；　〃I'm　the　Young　Dragon；〃　and　Jon　would　reply；　〃I'm　Ser　Ryam　Redwyne。〃
　That　morning　he　called　it　first。　〃I'm　Lord　of　Winterfell！〃　he　cried；　as　he　had　a　hundred　times　before。　only　this　time；　this　time；　Robb　had　answered；　〃You　can't　be　Lord　of　Winterfell；　you're　bastard…born。　My　lady　mother　says　you　can't　ever　be　the　Lord　of　Winterfell。〃
　I　thought　I　had　forgotten　that。　Jon　could　taste　blood　in　his　mouth；　from　the　blow　he'd　taken。
　In　the　end　Halder　and　Horse　had　to　pull　him　away　from　Iron　Emmett；　one　man　on　either　arm。　The　ranger　sat　on　the　ground　dazed；　his　shield　half　in　splinters；　the　visor　of　his　helm　knocked　askew；　and　his　sword　six　yards　away。　〃Jon；　enough；〃　Halder　was　shouting；　〃he's　down；　you　disarmed　him。　Enough！〃
　No。　Not　enough。　Never　enough。　Jon　let　his　sword　drop。　〃I'm　sorry；〃　he　muttered。　〃Emmett；　are　you　hurt？〃
　Iron　Emmett　pulled　his　battered　helm　off。　〃Was　there　some　part　of　yield　you　could　not　prehend；　Lord　Snow？〃　It　was　said　amiably；　though。　Emmett　was　an　amiable　man；　and　he　loved　the　song　of　swords。　〃Warrior　defend　me；〃　he　groaned；　〃now　I　know　how　Qhorin　Halfhand　must　have　felt。〃
　That　was　too　much。　Jon　wrenched　free　of　his　friends　and　retreated　to　the　armory；　alone。　His　ears　were　still　ringing　from　the　blow　Emmett　had　dealt　him。　He　sat　on　the　bench　and　buried　his　head　in　his　hands。　Why　am　I　so　angry？　he　asked　himself；　but　it　was　a　stupid　question。　Lord　of　Winterfell。　I　could　be　the　Lord　of　Winterfell。　My　father's　heir。
　It　was　not　Lord　Eddard's　face　he　saw　floating　before　him；　though；　it　was　Lady　Catelyn's。　With　her　deep　blue　eyes　and　hard　cold　mouth；　she　looked　a　bit　like　Stannis。　Iron；　he　thought；　but　brittle。　She　was　looking　at　him　the　way　she　used　to　look　at　him　at　Winterfell；　whenever　he　had　bested　Robb　at　swords　or　sums　or　most　anything。　Who　are　you？　that　look　had　always　seemed　to　say。　This　is　not　your　place。　Why　are　you　here？
　His　friends　were　still　out　in　the　practice　yard；　but　Jon　was　in　no　fit　state　to　face　them。　He　left　the　armory　by　the　back；　descending　a　steep　flight　of　stone　steps　to　the　wormways；　the　tunnels　that　linked　the　castle's　keeps　and　towers　below　the　earth。　It　was　short　walk　to　the　bathhouse；　where　he　took　a　cold　plunge　to　wash　the　sweat　off　and　soaked　in　a　hot　stone　tub。　The　warmth　took　some　of　the　ache　from　his　muscles　and　made　him　think　of　Winterfell's　muddy　pools；　steaming　and　bubbling　in　the　godswood。　Winterfell；　he　thought。　Theon　left　it　burned　and　broken；　but　I　could　restore　it。　Surely　his　father　would　have　wanted　that；　and　Robb　as　well。　They　would　never　have　wanted　the　castle　left　in　ruins。
　You　can't　be　the　Lord　of　Winterfell；　you're　bastard…born；　he　heard　Robb　say　again。　And　the　stone　kings　were　growling　at　him　with　granite　tongues。　You　do　not　belong　here。　This　is　not　your　place。　When　Jon　closed　his　eyes　he　saw　the　heart　tree；　with　its　pale　limbs；　red　leaves；　and　solemn　face。　The　weirwood　was　the　heart　of　Winterfell；　Lord　Eddard　always　said　。　。　。　but　to　save　the　castle　Jon　would　have　to　tear　that　heart　up　by　its　ancient　roots；　and　feed　it　to　the　red　woman's　hungry　fire　god。　I　have　no　right；　he　thought。　Winterfell　belongs　to　the　old　gods。
　The　sound　of　voices　echoing　off　the　vaulted　ceiling　brought　him　back　to　Castle　Black。　〃I　don't　know；〃　a　man　was　saying；　in　a　voice　thick　with　doubts。　〃Maybe　if　I　knew　the　man　better　。　。　。　Lord　Stannis　didn't　have　much　good　to　say　of　him；　I'll　tell　you　that。〃
　〃When　has　Stannis　Baratheon　ever　had　much　good　to　say　of　anyone？〃　Ser　Alliser's　flinty　voice　was　unmistakable。　〃If　we　let　Stannis　choose　our　Lord　mander；　we　bee　his　bannermen　in　all　but　name。　Tywin　Lannister　is　not　like　to　forget　that；　and　you　know　it　will　be　Lord　Tywin　who　wins　in　the　end。　He's　already　beaten　Stannis　once；　on　the　Blackwater。〃　
　〃Lord　Tywin　favors　Slynt；〃　said　Bowen　Marsh；　in　a　fretful；　anxious　voice。　〃I　can　show　you　his　letter；　Othell。　'Our　faithful　friend　and　servant'　he　called　him。〃　Jon　Snow　sat　up　suddenly；　and　the　three　men　froze　at　the　sound　of　the　slosh。　〃My　lords；〃　he　said　with　cold　courtesy。
　〃What　are　you　doing　here；　bastard？〃　Thorne　asked。
　〃Bathing。　But　don't　let　me　spoil　your　plotting。〃　Jon　climbed　from　the　water；　dried；　dressed；　and　left　them　to　conspire。
　Outside；　he　found　he　had　no　idea　where　he　was　going。　He　walked　past　the　shell　of　the　Lord　mander's　Tower；　where　once　he'd　saved　the　Old　Bear　from　a　dead　man；　past　the　spot　where　Ygritte　had　died　with　that　sad　smile　on　her　face；　past　the　King's　Tower　where　he　and　Satin　and　Deaf　Dick　Follard　had　waited　for　the　Magnar　and　his　Thenns；　past　the　heaped　and　charred　remains　of　the　great　wooden　stair。　The　inner　gate　was　open；　so　Jon　went