評論
打印
Bronn came trotting out of the mists, already armored and ahorse, wearing his battered halfhelm. "Do you know what's happened?" Tyrion asked him.
波隆從霧中跑來，已然全副武裝，騎在馬上，戴著那頂飽經擊打的半罩頭盔。“發生什么事了？”提利昂問。
The Stark boy stole a march on us, Bronn said. "He crept down the kingsroad in the night, and now his host is less than a mile north of here, forming up in battle array."
“史塔克那小鬼搶先一步，”波隆道，“他趁夜色沿國王大道南下，就在我們北方不到一里，全軍成戰斗陣形。”
Hurry, the trumpets called, hurry hurry hurry.
快啊，號角仿佛在喊，快啊，快啊，快啊。
See that the clansmen are ready to ride. Tyrion ducked back inside his tent. "Where are my clothes?" he barked at Shae. "There. No, the leather, damn it. Yes. Bring me my boots."
“叫原住民準備出動。”提利昂縮回帳篷。“我的衣服上哪兒去了？”他朝雪伊叫道。“就那件，不對，是那件皮衣，該死，對對，把我靴子拿來。”
By the time he was dressed, his squire had laid out his armor, such that it was. Tyrion owned a fine suit of heavy plate, expertly crafted to fit his misshapen body. Alas, it was safe at Casterly Rock, and he was not. He had to make do with oddments assembled from Lord Lefford's wagons: mail hauberk and coif, a dead knight's gorget, lobstered greaves and gauntlets and pointed steel boots. Some of it was ornate, some plain; not a bit of it matched, or fit as it should. His breastplate was meant for a bigger man; for his oversize head, they found a huge bucket-shaped greathelm topped with a foot-long triangular spike.
等他穿好衣服，侍從已把他的盔甲排好。這身盔甲實在不起眼。提利昂本有一套上好的重鎧，特別精心打造，適合他畸形的身體，只可惜而今好端端放在凱巖城，與他相隔千里。他只好將就一下，在萊佛德伯爵的輜重車輛上東拼西湊：鎖甲和頭套，一名戰死騎士的護喉，圓盤護膝，鐵手套和尖角鋼靴。其中某幾件有裝飾，有的則樣式普通，通通都不成套，頗不合身。他的胸甲原本是要給個子更大的人穿的；為了對付他那顆不合比例的大頭，他們找來一個水桶狀的大盔，頂端有根一尺長的三角尖刺。
Shae helped Pod with the buckles and clasps. "If I die, weep for me," Tyrion told the whore.
雪伊協助波德為他扣上扣環和系帶。“如果我死了，記得要為我掉眼淚。”提利昂告訴妓女。
How will you know? You'll be dead.
“你人都死了，怎么會知道？”
I'll know.
“我就是知道。”
