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“你在说前十遍的时候我就听见啦,乌鸦。别人会以为你我之间没什么信任可言呢。”他怨言到。“男孩是第一批,好的。曼蒙斯打算走远路。你得确保东海望指望着他们要来。我会确保没有人争斗,也不会在你那该死的门那里拥挤。我们会漂漂亮亮秩序井然的,像鸭子那样排着队过去。而我就是那鸭妈妈。哈!”托蒙德把琼恩送出了他的帐篷。
Outside the day was bright and cloudless. The sun had returned to the sky after a fortnight’s absence, and to the south the Wall rose blue-white and glittering. There was a saying Jon had heard from the older men at Castle Black: the Wall has more moods than Mad King Aerys, they’d say, or sometimes, the Wall has more moods than a woman. On cloudy days it looked to be white rock. On moonless nights it was as black as coal. In snowstorms it seemed carved of snow. But on days like this, there was no mistaking it for anything but ice. On days like this the Wall shimmered bright as a septon’s crystal, every crack and crevasse limned by sunlight, as frozen rainbows danced and died behind translucent ripples. On days like this the Wall was beautiful.
帐篷外面的天晴朗无云。太阳在消失了两周之后重新回来了,并且把长城的南面照得散发出淡蓝的闪光。琼恩在黑城堡的时候曾经听那边的老人说长城比疯王更有情绪,他们有时候又说长城比女人更有情绪。在阴天它看起来像块白色的石头。在无月的夜晚它又像海边的礁石一样黑。在暴风雪中他又像是雪雕,但是在像今天这样的日子里你就绝不会把它错认成冰以外的任何东西。在像这样的日子里长城会散发出像septon水晶的光芒。每一道裂缝和破口都被阳光够勾画了出来,像冻结了的彩虹在舞蹈并且死在了清澈的微波之后。在像这样的日子里长城是美丽的。
Tormund’s eldest son stood near the horses, talking with Leathers. Tall Toregg, he was called amongst the free folk. Though he barely had an inch on Leathers, he overtopped his father by a foot. Hareth, the strapping Mole’s Town boy called Horse, huddled near the fire, his back to the other two. He and Leathers were the only men Jon had brought with him to the parley; any more might have been seen as a sign of fear, and twenty men would have been of no more use than two if Tormund had been intent on blood. Ghost was the only protection Jon needed; the direwolf could sniff out foes, even those who hid their enmity behind smiles.
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