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Squatting beside the dead man he had named Jafer Flowers, Sir Jaremy grasped his head by the scalp. The hair came out between his fingers, brittle as straw. The knight cursed and shoved at the face with the heel of his hand. A great gash in the side of the corpse's neck opened like a mouth, crusted with dried blood. Only a few ropes of pale tendon still attached the head to the neck. "This was done with an axe."
杰瑞米爵士在杰佛·佛花身旁蹲下，揪著頭皮抓起頭顱。發束從他指間落下，松脆有如稻草。騎士罵了一聲，伸手把臉部翻過。尸體另一側的脖頸部位有道深深的傷口，好似一張大嘴，其中積滿了干涸的血塊。頭脖之間僅余幾條肌腱相連。“他是給斧頭砍死的。”
Aye, muttered Dywen, the old forester. "Belike the axe that Othor carried, m'lord."
“沒錯，”老林務官戴文喃喃道，“大人，俺說就是奧瑟平日慣用的那把斧頭。”
Jon could feel his breakfast churning in his belly, but he pressed his lips together and made himself look at the second body. Othor had been a big ugly man, and he made a big ugly corpse. No axe was in evidence. Jon remembered Othor; he had been the one bellowing the bawdy song as the rangers rode out. His singing days were done. His flesh was blanched white as milk, everywhere but his hands. His hands were black like Jafer's. Blossoms of hard cracked blood decorated the mortal wounds that covered him like a rash, breast and groin and throat. Yet his eyes were still open. They stared up at the sky, blue as sapphires.
瓊恩只覺早餐在胃里翻涌，但他強自抿緊嘴唇，逼自己朝第二具尸體望去。奧瑟生前是個高大丑陋的人，死后尸體也是又大又丑。但四下卻沒有斧頭的蹤影。瓊恩還記得奧瑟；他就是那個出發前高唱低俗小調的家伙。看來他唱歌的日子是完了。他全身的肉發白地像牛奶，而他的雙手和杰佛一樣完全漆黑。傷口如疹子般覆蓋全身，從下體到胸部再到咽喉無一幸免，上面裝飾著一朵朵干裂的的血花。他的眼睛依舊睜開，藍寶石般的珠子直瞪天空。
Sir Jaremy stood. "The wildlings have axes too."
杰瑞米爵士站起身。“野人也是有斧頭的。”
