評(píng)論
打印
mounted archers in leather jerkins, a swarming mass of undisciplined freeriders and sellswords, fieldhands on plow horses armed with scythes and their fathers' rusted swords, half-trained boys from the stews of Lannisport... and Tyrion and his mountain clansmen.
僅穿皮甲的弓騎兵、大批毫無紀(jì)律的自由騎手和流浪武士，騎著犁馬、手持鐮刀和祖父輩遺留的生銹刀劍的莊稼漢，蘭尼斯港小巷中找來、并未完成訓(xùn)練的男孩……以及提利昂和他的高山氏族。
Crow food, Bronn muttered beside him, giving voice to what Tyrion had left unsaid. He could only nod. Had his lord father taken leave of his senses? No pikes, too few bowmen, a bare handful of knights, the ill-armed and unarmored, commanded by an unthinking brute who led with his rage... how could his father expect this travesty of a battle to hold his left?
“等著喂烏鴉吧。”波隆在他身邊低聲呢喃，說出了提利昂沒說的話，他不由得點(diǎn)頭同意。父親大人難道失卻了理智？左翼不僅沒有矛兵，弓箭手很少，騎士更是稀罕，盡是些裝備低劣、未加防護(hù)的人，況且還是由一個(gè)行事不經(jīng)大腦、全憑意氣用事的殘暴粗漢所率領(lǐng)……如此可笑的一支軍隊(duì)，父親竟期望他們守住左翼？
He had no time to think about it. The drums were so near that the beat crept under his skin and set his hands to twitching. Bronn drew his longsword, and suddenly the enemy was there before them, boiling over the tops of the hills, advancing with measured tread behind a wall of shields and pikes.
他沒有時(shí)間仔細(xì)思考，鼓聲愈來愈近，咚咚咚咚，潛進(jìn)他的皮膚之下，令他雙手抽搐。波隆拔出長(zhǎng)劍，剎那間，敵人已出現(xiàn)在前方，從丘陵頂端漫山遍野地冒出來，他們躲在盾牌和長(zhǎng)矛構(gòu)成的壁壘之后，整齊劃一地邁步前進(jìn)。
Gods be damned, look at them all, Tyrion thought, though he knew his father had more men on the field. Their captains led them on armored warhorses, standard-bearers riding alongside with their banners.
諸神該死，瞧瞧他們有多少人，提利昂心想，不過他明白父親的總兵力比較多。敵軍的首領(lǐng)們騎著披甲戰(zhàn)馬，領(lǐng)導(dǎo)士兵前進(jìn)，掌旗官舉起家族旗幟與之并肩而行。
