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He glimpsed the bull moose of the Hornwoods, the Karstark sunburst, Lord Cerwyn's battle-axe, and the mailed fist of the Glovers... and the twin towers of Frey, blue on grey. So much for his father's certainty that Lord Walder would not bestir himself. The white of House Stark was seen everywhere, the grey direwolves seeming to run and leap as the banners swirled and streamed from the high staffs. Where is the boy? Tyrion wondered.
他瞥見霍伍德家族的駝鹿旗幟、卡史塔克家族的日芒旗、賽文伯爵的戰斧旗、葛洛佛家族的盔甲鐵拳……其間更有佛雷家族的灰底藍色雙塔旗，前幾天父親還信誓旦旦地說瓦德大人不會出兵。史塔克家族的白色旗幟四處可見，旌旗在風中飄蕩，翻飛于長竿之上，灰色的冰原狼仿佛也在旗幟上奔躍。那小鬼在哪里？提利昂納悶。
A warhorn blew. Haroooooooooooooooooooooooo, it cried, its voice as long and low and chilling as a cold wind from the north. The Lannister trumpets answered, da-DA da-DA da-DAAAAAAAAA, brazen and defiant, yet it seemed to Tyrion that they sounded somehow smaller, more anxious. He could feel a fluttering in his bowels, a queasy liquid feeling; he hoped he was not going to die sick.
軍號響起，嗚嗚嗚嗚嗚嗚嗚嗚嗚嗚嗚嗚嗚嗚嗚嗚嗚嗚嗚嗚嗚嗚嗚，低沉而悠長，有如來自北方的冷風，令人不寒而栗。蘭尼斯特的喇叭隨即回應，嘟——嘟、嘟——嘟、嘟——嘟嘟嘟嘟嘟嘟嘟嘟嘟嘟，宏亮而不馴，只是提利昂的心中卻覺得比較小聲，且有些不安。他的五臟六腑一陣翻攪，涌起一股惡心，眩然欲嘔；他暗暗希望自己可別因反胃而死。
As the horns died away, a hissing filled the air; a vast flight of arrows arched up from his right, where the archers stood flanking the road. The northerners broke into a run, shouting as they came, but the Lannister arrows fell on them like hail, hundreds of arrows, thousands, and shouts turned to screams as men stumbled and went down. By then a second flight was in the air, and the archers were fitting a third arrow to their bowstrings.
當號聲漸息，嘶嘶聲填滿了空缺。在他右邊，道路兩側的弓箭手灑出一陣箭雨，北方人開步快跑，邊跑邊吼。蘭尼斯特的弓箭如冰雹一般朝他們身上招呼，百枝，千枝，剎那間不可勝數。不少人中箭倒地，吶喊轉為哀嚎。這時第二波攻擊已從空中落下，弓箭手們紛紛將第三枝箭搭上弓弦。
