介绍:
PROLOGUE
序曲
“We should start back,” Gared urged as the woods began to grow dark around them. “The wildlings are dead.”
“既然野人已经死了，”眼看周围的树林逐渐黯淡，盖瑞不禁催促，“咱们回头吧。”
“Do the dead frighten you?” Ser Waymar Royce asked with just the hint of a smile.
“死人吓着你了吗？”威玛·罗伊斯爵士带着轻浅的笑意问。
Gared did not rise to the bait. He was an old man, past fifty, and he had seen the lordlings come and go. “Dead is dead,” he said. “We have no business with the dead.”
盖瑞并未中激将之计，年过五十的他也算得上是个老人，这辈子看过太多贵族子弟来来去去。“死了就是死了，”他说，“咱们何必追寻死人。”
“Are they dead?” Royce asked softly. “What proof have we?”
“你能确定他们真死了？”罗伊斯轻声问，“证据何在？”
“Will saw them,” Gared said. “If he says they are dead, that’s proof enough for me.”
“威尔看到了，”盖瑞道，“我相信他说的话。”
Will had known they would drag him into the quarrel sooner or later. He wished it had been later rather than sooner. “My mother told me that dead men sing no songs,” he put in.
威尔料到他们早晚会把自己卷入这场争执，只是没想到这么快。“我娘说过，死人没戏可唱。”他插嘴道。
“My wet nurse said the same thing, Will,” Royce replied. “Never believe anything you hear at a woman’s tit. There are things to be learned even from the dead.” His voice echoed, too loud in the twilit forest.
“威尔，我奶妈也说过这话，”罗伊斯回答：“千万别相信你在女人怀里听到的东西。就算人是死了，也能让我们了解很多东西。”他的余音在暮色昏暝的森林里回荡，似乎吵闹了点。
“We have a long ride before us,” Gared pointed out. “Eight days, maybe nine. And night is falling.”
“回去的路还长着呢，”盖瑞指出，“少不了走个八九天，况且天色渐渐暗下来了。
Ser Waymar Royce glanced at the sky with disinterest. “It does that every day about this time. Are you unmanned by the dark, Gared?”
威玛·罗伊斯爵士意兴阑珊地扫视天际。“每天这时候不都如此？盖瑞，你该不会怕黑吧？”
Will could see the tightness around Gared’s mouth, the barely suppressed anger in his eyes under the thick black hood of his cloak. Gared had spent forty years in the Night’s Watch, man and boy, and he was not accustomed to being made light of. Yet it was more than that. Under the wounded pride, Will could sense something else in the older man. You could taste it; a nervous tension that came perilous close to fear.
威尔看见盖瑞紧抿的嘴唇，以及他厚重黑斗篷下强自遏抑的怒火。盖瑞当了四十年的守夜人②，这种资历可不是随便让人寻开心的。但盖瑞不仅是愤怒，在他受伤的自尊底下，威尔隐约察觉到某种潜藏的不安，一种近似于畏惧的紧张情绪。
Will shared his unease. He had been four years on the Wall. The first time he had been sent beyond, all the old stories had come rushing back, and his bowels had turned to water. He had laughed about it afterward. He was a veteran of a hundred rangings by now, and the endless dark wilderness that the southron called the haunted forest had no more terrors for him.
威尔深有同感。他戍守长城不过四年，当初首次越墙北进，所有的传说故事突然都涌上心头，把他吓得四肢发软，事后想起难免莞尔。如今他已是拥有百余次巡逻经验的老手，眼前这片南方人称作鬼影森林的广袤黑荒，他早已无所畏惧。
Until tonight. Something was different tonight. There was an edge to this darkness that made his hackles rise. Nine days they had been riding, north and northwest and then north again, farther and farther from the Wall, hard on the track of a band of wildling raiders. Each day had been worse than the day that had come before it. Today was the worst of all. A cold wind was blowing out of the north, and it made the trees rustle like living things. All day, Will had felt as though something were watching him, something cold and implacable that loved him not. Gared had felt it too. Will wanted nothing so much as to ride hellbent for the safety of the Wall, but that was not a feeling to share with your commander.
然而今晚是个例外，迥异往昔，四方暗幕中有种莫可名状、让他汗毛竖立的惊悚。他们轻骑北出长城，中途转向西北，随即又向北，九天来昼夜加急、不断推进，紧咬一队土匪的足迹。环境日益恶化，今天已降到谷底。阴森北风吹得树影幢幢，宛如狰狞活物，威尔整天都觉得自己受到一种冰冷且对他毫无好感的莫名之物监视，盖瑞也感觉出了。此刻威尔心中只想掉转马头，没命似地逃回长城。但这却是万万不能在长官面前说出的念头。
Especially not a commander like this one.
尤其是这样的长官。
Ser Waymar Royce was the youngest son of an ancient house with too many heirs. He was a handsome youth of eighteen, grey-eyed and graceful and slender as a knife. Mounted on his huge black destrier, the knight towered above Will and Gared on their smaller garrons. He wore black leather boots, black woolen pants, black moleskin gloves, and a fine supple coat of gleaming black ringmail over layers of black wool and boiled leather. Ser Waymar had been a Sworn Brother of the Night’s Watch for less than half a year, but no one could say he had not prepared for his vocation. At least insofar as his wardrobe was concerned.
威玛·罗伊斯爵士出身贵族世家，在儿孙满堂的家里排行老幺。他是个俊美的十八岁青年，有双灰色眸子，举止优雅，瘦得像把尖刀。骑在他那匹健壮的黑色战马上，比骑着矮小犁马的威尔和盖瑞高出许多。他穿着黑色皮靴，黑色羊毛裤，戴着黑色鼹鼠皮手套，黑色羊毛衫外套硬皮甲，又罩了一件闪闪发光的黑色环甲。威玛爵士宣誓成为守夜人尚不满半年，但他绝非空手而来，最起码行头一件不少。
His cloak was his crowning glory; sable, thick and black and soft as sin. “Bet he killed them all himself, he did,” Gared told the barracks over wine, “twisted their little heads off, our mighty warrior.” They had all shared the laugh.
而他身上最耀眼的行头，自然便是那件既厚实、又柔软惊人的黑色貂皮斗篷。“我敢打赌，那堆黑貂一定是他亲手杀的，”盖瑞在军营里喝酒时对兄弟们说：“我们伟大的战士哦，把它们的小头一颗颗扭断啦。”当时便引得众人哄笑一团。
It is hard to take orders from a man you laughed at in your cups, Will reflected as he sat shivering atop his garron. Gared must have felt the same.
假如你的长官是大伙儿饮酒作乐时的嘲笑对象，你怎么去尊敬他呢？威尔骑在马上，不禁如此思量。想必盖瑞也深有同感。
“Mormont said as we should track them, and we did,” Gared said. “They’re dead. They shan’t trouble us no more. There’s hard riding before us. I don’t like this weather. If it snows, we could be a fortnight getting back, and snow’s the best we can hope for. Ever seen an ice storm, my lord?”
“莫尔蒙叫我们追查野人行踪，我们照办了，”盖瑞道：“现在他们死去，再也不会来骚扰我们。而眼前还有好长一段路等着我们。我实在不喜欢这种天气，要是下雪，我们得花两个星期才能回去。其实下雪还算不上什么，大人，您可见过冰风暴肆虐的景象？”
The lordling seemed not to hear him. He studied the deepening twilight in that half-bored, half-distracted way he had. Will had ridden with the knight long enough to understand that it was best not to interrupt him when he looked like that. “Tell me again what you saw, Will. All the details. Leave nothing out.”
小少爷似乎没听见这番话。他用他特有的那种缺乏兴趣、漫不经心的方式审视着渐暗的暮色。威尔跟随他已有些时日，知道这种时候最好不要打断他。“威尔，再跟我说一遍你看到了些什么。仔细讲来，别漏掉任何细节。”
Will had been a hunter before he joined the Night’s Watch. Well, a poacher in truth. Mallister freeriders had caught him red-handed in the Mallisters’ own woods, skinning one of the Mallisters’ own bucks, and it had been a choice of putting on the black or losing a hand. No one could move through the woods as silent as Will, and it had not taken the black brothers long to discover his talent.
在成为守夜人以前，威尔原本靠打猎为生。说难听点，其实就是偷猎者。当年他在梅利斯特家族的森林里偷猎公鹿，正忙着剥鹿皮，弄得一手血腥的时候，被受雇于梅利斯特家的自由骑手逮个正着。他若不选择加入黑衫军，就只有单手被砍一途。威尔潜行的本事是一等一的，在森林里无声潜行等闲难及，黑衫军的弟兄们果然很快也就发现了他的长处。
“The camp is two miles farther on, over that ridge, hard beside a stream,” Will said. “I got close as I dared. There’s eight of them, men and women both. No children I could see. They put up a lean-to against the rock. The snow’s pretty well covered it now, but I could still make it out. No fire burning, but the firepit was still plain as day. No one moving. I watched a long time. No living man ever lay so still.”
“营地在两里之外，翻过山脊，紧邻着一条溪。”威尔答道，“我已经靠得很近了。总共有八个人，男女都有，但没看见小孩。他们背靠着大石头，虽然雪几乎把营地整个盖住，但我还是分辨得出来。没有营火，只有火堆的余烬比较明显。他们一动不动，我仔细看了好长时间，活人绝不会躺得这么安静。”
“Did you see any blood?”
“你发现血迹了吗？”
“Well, no,” Will admitted.
“嗯，没有。”威尔坦承。
“Did you see any weapons?”
“你看见任何武器了吗？”
“Some swords, a few bows. One man had an axe. Heavy-looking, double-bladed, a cruel piece of iron. It was on the ground beside him, right by his hand.”
“几支剑、两三把弓，还有个家伙带了一柄斧头。铁打的双刃斧，似乎挺沉的，摆在他右手边的地上。”
“Did you make note of the position of the bodies?”
“你记得他们躺着的相对位置吗？”
Will shrugged. “A couple are sitting up against the rock. Most of them on the ground. Fallen, like.”
威尔耸耸肩。“两三个靠着石头，大部分躺在地上，像是被打死的。”
“Or sleeping,” Royce suggested.
“也可能在睡觉。”罗伊斯提出异议。
“Fallen,” Will insisted. “There’s one woman up an ironwood, half-hid in the branches. A far-eyes.” He smiled thinly. “I took care she never saw me. When I got closer, I saw that she wasn’t moving neither.” Despite himself, he shivered.
“肯定是被打死的，”威尔坚持己见，“因为有个女的爬在铁树上，藏在枝头，应该是个斥候。”他浅浅一笑。“我很小心，没让她见着。但等我靠近，却发现她根本毫无动静。”说到这儿他不禁一阵颤抖。
“You have a chill?” Royce asked.
“你受寒了？”罗伊斯问。
“Some,” Will muttered. “The wind, my lord.”
“有点罢，”威尔喃喃道，“大人，是风的关系啊。”
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